The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.
http://www.fukufics.com/fic/

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 7: Meet Interesting People.

I stepped onto the launch platform near the bow of the HFV Garuda. The heels of my Ritual plate locked into the stirrups of the launcher. I suppose that was one reason for the ridiculous shape, though there were far better reasons.

My stance was bladed with my left foot a half pace in front of the right. Indicator lights on either side of me turned to amber then shifted to blue as the launcher locked onto my boots. Leaning forward and locking my leg armor, I spread my wings to where they just filled the long passage. The walls were deliberately smooth and lacking in protuberances.

To my left a fleet rating raised her hand, I replied with a thumbs up. The rating looked to her other side and got a thumbs up from VioletBlood who was in the other tube.

The lights turned green.

Ahead of me was what looked like a fifty foot long one-person corridor that opened to the burning sky of dusk. A light ward flickered at the very edge. The tracks ran down and out to the sunset-light.

"Launching, Legionary Flight 3, first set." The fleet officer in the observation spot above us came. "In four, three, two," as she counted down the lights started to flash green and blue.

Looking a bit nervous, Octavia stood a few paces behind me, clearly on the right side of the orange and black hazard stripes.

I nudged my Zephyr; I felt myself pulling forward as my wings and armor strained a bit against the shuttle, but I kept them in check.

"Launch!" The lights turned blue and were gone in a blur as the catapult triggered and I shot down the tube. Pressed against the rear of my armor by the acceleration, I put power into my air spirits and my boots came off the shuttle as I launched out into the sky.

The catapult shuttle reached the pneumatic resistors, quickly slowed, and pulled back, resetting the catapult as the system was reenergized and was soon ready to fling two more Ritual Plate into the sky.

But that was all vanishing behind me. Stretching out my wings, I took a moment to enjoy the air over my feathers as I rechecked my telemetry and communications. VioletBlood formed up on my wing.

GreyDawn and Octavia launched momentarily after us and soon took position behind us at a slightly lower altitude.

The twin-hulled eight hundred and fortyfoot long mass of our mothership, the HFV Garuda rapidly shrank to a blurry grey dot.

"Diamond Flight 3 has launched," I said over the squadron command channel which was limited to Flight and squadron leaders.

On airships where every pound of weight had to be justified, Ritual Plate catapults had a few things going for them. First, given the relatively light weight of a pilot and her armor, a system that could accelerate that payload did not have to be terribly heavy.

Second, while Ritual Plate was more than capable of simply jumping out of any open hatch on an airship and flying from there, that was suboptimal. It would mean the pilot would have to spend critical moments accelerating to something close to cruise speed, and in the case of a mass launch would leave a lot of pilots clustered near their airship.

The system was a bit too large to keep on the smallest airship class, the Venture Scout, and the next smallest the Kolibri Patrol could only have one. A Mellona medium carrier could launch 2 Flights at once, and a Nova fleet carrier could launch 2 squadrons, one port, one starboard. But the advantage was that the catapults were an enhancement, not a requirement.

"How kind of you to make it," Prefect Centurion Magnus Quirinus dryly noted. "Form up on the Second Umbra Flight with Primus Mercy Gabinus."

My Flight had finished a patrol and had just taken off our Ritual Plate before the alert came off. Still we had gotten launched before the Umbra Medium VTOLs had gotten loaded with their Legionary payload.

"Okay, girls," Quirinus stated, setting her comms so she could talk to all twelve of her squadron. "Things have fallen apart down on the surface and once again it's up to the Imperial Legion to clean up the mess."

Annotated maps updated on my display. "The Household Fleet has so kindly offered to secure the skies and even loan us one of their squadrons. Our first job is to make sure those Legionaries make it to the ground.

"That means escorting the Umbra mediums as they made their drops and clearing out their landing zones," she continued.

There were several ways to get Legionnaires from a troopship up the air to a point on the ground. We were going with the standard.

The most direct was to land the airship. This method had several flaws. The least of which was that an airship needed a rather large space that it could land upon, and would need to retract the ventral tail-fins. The bigger flaw was that a troopship was a large slow target, and one on the ground it became a large, immobile target. This tactic was viable if the troopship was landing at an established base or some other secure location.

A slightly less risky tactic was to take advantage of the fact that Legionaries could fly. However, the further from the landing zone the troopship was the longer of a flight a relatively slow Legionary would be in the air. Such mass paratrooper style drops were once more common. They would have the Legionaries deploy to a somewhat more secured or isolated landing zone, collect on the ground and then march to their target.

The establishment of Long Range Insertion doctrine and various VTOLs reduced that to a vestigial tactic. Though one, that in the right situation, had merit.

I looked over the map. One upside of the long time we had spent waiting during the ceasefire negotiations was that there had been plenty of over flights. So, I had personal experience with the terrain around the resort where the negotiations had taken place, and the nearby city.

I moved my RP Flight over to Second Umbra Flight which had just launched. The seventy foot long VTOLs flew out of the aft amidships port and starboard launch bays with a slight lumber as their stub wings suddenly got more lift. Unlike RP, VTOLs were too large to get catapults.

Primus Mercy Gabinus and her three pilots were already forming up around their launch ships.

"Primus Centurion Gabinus, how do you want to do this?" I asked her on a private channel, deferring to her seniority. There were several ways to conduct an escort.

Thankful for thaumaturgical based communications, and hoping that they were as secure as the boffins assured, I digested the landing operations plan.

The most common method to deploy Legionaries was using various VTOLs as dropships. There were several types of VTOL from the Spatha Light that could deploy a reinforced Contubernium of ten Legionaries, to a half-Century of forty Legionaries via an Umbra Medium VTOL, to two Centuries totaling 160 Legionaries on Gladius or Pugio Heavy VTOLs.

Which VTOL used depended on the type of Landing, the size of the Landing, what phase of the Landing Operation and what VTOL assets were available to conduct the Drop.

For this operation we had Umbra Mediums, and a smattering of Spatha Lights.

"I'm talking with the Umbra Pilots and with this level of escort we can have the luxury of dedicating a flight to each dropship. I'll take lead Umbra, you can take the wing."

"Confirm." That formation did have the downside of less defensive depth. One could have one flight watch both dropships while another ranged out further, but we have more Fleet Ritual Plate for that role.

Even after deciding on VTOLs, there were still several ways to get one's Legionaries from the dropship to the ground.

The most exotic was to teleport. However that was a very rare talent, one that made Ritual Plate Pilots look common. In the entire Imperial Legions there were maybe a few Cohorts of Broadcast Recon. Being able to do multiple teleports, at least six miles, four times in one day, twice in rapid succession and with reasonable precision and carrying a full kit...

Made for a very useful capability for scouting, securing a beachhead, evacuation, the delivery of small but extremely critical cargo, and, obviously, stealth assault. Unfortunately, our Task Force was fresh out of Broadcast Recon. At least we still had plenty of Jammers, in case the enemy had teleport capable assets.

More mundane options were to drop from the VTOL in midair using wings, as a type of paratrooper. High altitude or low altitude or deployment were both options. Alternatively, the VTOL can go for a hover, either close to the ground or higher up and deploy that way. Or the VTOL could simply land.

I switched to the Flight channel and addressed my three subordinates. "You heard the Prefect. We'll be part of a two flight group minding a pair of dropships. The trailing one in the formation is our bird; there's over forty of the Imperatrix's finest in there and it's our job to keep them from dying pointlessly before they even hit the ground."

There was a whole trade-off between deploying forces in good order at a location, and unloading equipment, vehicles, or troops at a specific spot, versus exposure of the VTOL to risk.

Much depended on how secure various landing zones were.

Looking over the plans, it seemed that one pair of Umbra mediums was going to land by the resort, deploy their Century and then take on our diplomatic team, and maybe the Alecto one.

Meanwhile the other Umbra Flight, the one I was assigned to escort would go on a low flight and deploy that Century via airdrop between the resort and the city.

That put the Umbra at less risk, but would scatter out their Legionaries over a larger front. Which could be good or bad.

Keeping an eye on my Gorgon rig intake and the crying feed from the rest of my flight, I linked my Flight channel with that of the dropship pilots. "This is Primus DiamondDust. Aft over-flight is clear."

"We are entering the drop corridor," the Primus Ventus Centurion in charge of the two dropships said in the easy southern Vanis drawl most VTOL pilots seemed to adopt.

"Diamond, contact front!" Gabinus cut in. "We'll take the escort duties."

Hashed symbols popped up as Mercy Gabinus' data popped up on my display. As her flight was escorting the leading Umbra they spotted the probable targets first.

There were a few ways to play this, her flight could go ahead leaving mine advance and spread out to watch both dropships but that would leave the leading Umbra a bit exposed until then, both flights could continue to guard the dropships, or her Flight could spread to watch the rear Umbra while mine raced off to check out the targets.

Every option had risks and tradeoffs, but at least this showed Mercy trusted my Flight and was not some bloodthirster eager to abandon escort duties to go and kill something. I suppose one factor was that my flight had 2 Polyxo advanced suits and Gabinus had none.

"Got it! Flight to me!" I accelerated and adjusted my Gorgon rig intake. I made sure VioletBlood was also trained, and capable at taking in the extra data.

Given the intention of the Gorgon Rig was to be a supplemental reconnaissance suite that was something of a Svalinna light, and thus was intended to send more telemetry back to Flight Ops, and was quite expensive, it was a bit odd to have more than one Gorgon in a Flight.

I disagreed with that assessment and would preferr the Gorgon Rig to be more common. Yes the standard scrying systems were good, but more capability to get targeting info was always a good thing.

"Confirm your camo systems," I ordered as I checked the emissions from my Flight. "I don't want anyone getting tagged because the enemy saw how pretty your flight armor is."

A few miles down-slope of the landing zone was a winding road that connected the resort to the small city of Ortov to the north.

My eyes blinked at the signals. Lovely. "VioletBlood, GreyDawn, confirm?" I asked.

VioletBlood gave her assent, and GreyDawn pointed out that there were some more feeds on lines running parallel. I made a note to ensure next time she had a Gorgon rig as well. Damn the expense.

I'd pay for them myself. That would probably help with the custom fitting.

I switched to the command channel. "Prefect Quirinus, Flight Ops, I've got eyes on a multi-Century strength mixed force vectoring into LZ Two." I read off the coordinates. "They look like irregulars, but they do have vehicle mounts."

"We have received," came the crisp voice of the Operations officer who was part of the team on HFV Garuda coordinating the Landing.

"What have we got? I don't want to strafe some Gendarmerie the Queen Vualia sent to help us."

There was a slight chuckle from Quirinus. "And if they're Luxon regulars evacuating their own people?"

"Odd route," I remarked as we raced ahead of the Umbra VTOLs. Whoever this group was they were going to run into our forces not long after they hit the ground.

"Whoever they are, you're clear to attack if they make a hostile move to our forces," Quirinus stated.

I gave a thin smile. That was quite the latitude in force authorization from my direct superior.

As we closed in, the telemetry resolved into more detail.

And behind me, each Umbra released five Contubernium of Legionaries. The troops jumped and used their own wings to arrest their fall, though their heavy equipment, mostly a handful of Marius Mules, dropped by parachute.

Every two Contuberniums shared a Marius strider-style cargo mule. They were often called “ the box beetle” or “the Walkin’ Coffin” among other nicknames.

If used as a cargo mule, the Marius freed up seventy pounds of gear for each Legionary. It can also be configured with a water tank with a hundred-thirty gallon capacity. Without flight capability, the Marius has some limits in field use, though it can cover broken terrain at speed. They can be used as a stretcher bearer and in all sorts of utility and cargo roles.

The Mule can also be used as a weapons platform. Either supporting a pintle mount for a Minerva tri-barrel rotary cannon, or a launcher box holding eight Vel missiles.

I hissed as a few images flickered as I got a clearer sight of those vehicles and the troops around them. "Transmitting more info. I'm detecting Alecto crew served weapons, tube arcana, and... Luxon dual-purpose guns on those trucks, possibly Hathors."

Given the Mules were very rugged, and unmanned multi-legged cargo walker golems, they could be mounted with extreme low altitude parachutes and survive being pushed out of the back of an Umbra. As they were being done right now.

I gave a sigh of relief as it looked like the forty odd Legionaries managed to get out of their dropships and onto the ground. They started taking formation, but I would have to leave their direct support to Mercy and her Flight.

"Diamond Flight, we have confirmation," the cool voice of Flight Ops stated. "Alecto, Luxon, and Vualia deny having forces at that location. Weapons free. Weapons free."

I switched to my Flight channel. "You heard Command. Strafe spread. Dash speed. VioletBlood, Octavia target those trucks, they look soft-skinned and are probably our biggest threat. GreyDawn, support Octavia and harrow their infantry."

Trusting VioletBlood to the ground targeting, I expanded my scrying. The four of us accelerated. This was a juicy target but that made it a potential trap. And to my disquiet we were now the forward-most Ritual Plate Flight .

In a couple beats the irregulars came into range. First with the longer range Pilum Projectors. "Hold unless they detect us." I noted.

About half of the mass of troops were mounted on what looked like regular logging trucks. Another group was on the running boards of the Luxon technicals. It looked like those guns were not energized.

And then they were in Falx Projector range. "Fire," I ordered.

This was the moment. As much as I had GreyDawn watching Octavia, it was VioletBlood who had yet to fire a shot in anger.

My concerns were abated as massive purple blasts from her Pilum projector streaked down and blew apart two of the Luxon anti-air vehicles.

Shrapnel scythed through the air and limbs parted as the power systems of the Luxon guns detonated. And the luckless irregulars on the running boards died.

I gave that a bare notice as I opened up with my own Falx. Compared to the Pilum projector, the purple-orange bundles of arcane energy I launched were puny. But there were a lot of them and they spread out as I raked my gauntlets over the crowd.

Behind us, GreyDawn's firing swept through the enemy, her own anti-infantry weapons fire living up to its name. Octavia took out one of the Luxon anti-air vehicles.

And just like that we had passed over the enemy.

There were several schools of thought for Ritual Plate in a ground attack role. Of primary consideration were: how fast and at what altitude? Increasing those factors, in general, decreased the risk to a pilot, but decreased both targeting accuracy and time on target.

There was more to it than that, and a lot of it depended on the situation, the nature of the targets, their support, and one's own support. For example, what anti-air assets did the target have?

Right now, I was worried about those Luxon guns. I was not sure the exact model, but they were probably a variant of their Hathor dual-purpose arcane cannons. Their main weapon consisted of a cooling-finned, steel sheath over a crystalline barrel fed by arcane accumulators.

In the anti-air role, they had a good rate of fire but a somewhat anemic charge for their weight and power requirements. And while their traverse was fast enough, their elevation controls were a bit lacking. Still, an organized, and alert Hathor battery could at least keep Ritual Plate from simply hovering just out of small arms range and bombarding ground troops.

However, for an indirect anti-ground role they had a rather good power, an impressive rate of fire, but a not great barrel life. And in honesty that was where the Hathor really shined. Being able to quickly retarget and have a powerful charge made it useful as a quick-firing bit of light field artillery.

Such guns needed a rather heavy support train, which was why House BlackSky generally preferred more conventional barrels for their ground vehicles, and focused on arcane munitions.

"Nice shooting, Everyone good?" I asked with some support towards VioletBlood and Octavia as we spiraled up and flipped over.

I made sure to get their affirmations before going to the next part. I angled so that we were once again on a vector that would cross the enemy. The key was to keep hitting them from different angles and to not let up.

"Great! The milk run is over and even House-less scum will be ready for us now!" I said with false cheer.

Blinking my display I could see that the enemy column had stopped and tried to dig in. I also caught some backscatter and pings from a targeting array.

"I'm reading one, no two, active Hathor guns!" VioletBlood cried.

"Better us than the Legionaries on the ground," I stated as we raced in. At the moment we were out of their range, but they were also out of Pilum range. "On my mark...."

I waited for the trill in my ear of active targeting to hit. And streamers of green energy burst out.

"Dive!" I cried as the four of us dropped to just above the trees and went in a broad arc. Fortunately, my Flight was skilled enough to keep up.

I pushed my Zephyr as hard as they could go in a straight descent, but the trigonometry was brutal. The Hathor guns fired above us and tried to track down.

"Any time now," I murmured just as VioletBlood and GreyDawn blew the remaining enemy anti-air guns apart.

And then we were among them. My first couple targets were light bursts of Falx fire over clusters of the enemy.

Rifle fire shot up, some of it full or tracers as they ineffectively fired into the night.

But then a couple of irregulars shouldered Alecton man-portable Boudica anti-air launchers. VioletBlood snap maneuvered, her thrust suddenly vectoring to the side as she twisted and launched her own wide stream of Falx fire. One warhead blew up prematurely and sent a cone of shrapnel that blasted just to the side of her wards, causing the arcane shields to light up.

The other came up aft of her but was blown apart when I rolled and launched a high power Pilum bolt that utterly vaporized the enemy missile while it was yards from my wingwoman. The backwash from the heavy anti-armor shot probably cooked her wards more than the missile going off.

Meanwhile Octavia blasted their crews apart before they could reload their missile tubes.

"Keep in formation!" I cried to one of my green pilots. I could just tell she was burning with rage and wanted to make the fight personal. After all, her Flight Leader became an Ace with just a sword.

"What was that!" VioletBlood cried as we raced out of range.

"Mind your targets. Just because we took out their big weapons doesn't mean they're without claws," I admonished as we turned and came back for a third sweep.

This time we were able to go at a higher altitude and slowed a bit. Concentrated Falx fire from all four of us broke the force and they splintered in all directions.

Most of the rabble leaving their wounded behind. I gave a snort in derision as we pulled back to Landing Zone Two.

"Century Two this is Diamond Flight. We just scratched an enemy formation to your North. We took out their vehicle-mounted guns. Estimate two to three centuries of casualties but expect some of their runners, about half a century, to hit your lines," I transmitted to their command channel.

"This is Centurion Claudia. Good shooting Diamond Flight. Can you give us some targeting? My mortar Contuberniums is ready to fire and my grenadiers are in position."

"Giving data now," I quickly told GreyDawn to take Octavia have her act in a spotter role. Maybe that would state her bloodlust somewhat.

I also put in a tiny wince.

An Infantry Century was Commanded by a Centurion assisted by an Optio as a 2nd and Tesserarius as 3rd. It consisted of ten Contuberniums with the Centurion and her staff sometimes as supernumeraries or more-often part of their own individual Contubernium. Six were Infantry Contubernium, five standard hoof-sloggers, one a veteran group. Preferably, the first Evocatus Contubernium consisted of veterans on their second twenty year term.

Rounding out the Century was a Medicae Contubernium, a Mortar Contubernium, and a pair of Grenadier Contuberniums. The Mortar Contubernium consists of two to two mortar tubes that can be kept as a battery or split into two separate teams. They provided indirect fire support at the century level.

And honestly giving them targeting data via Ritual Plate was overkill.

The small mortar battery started firing, adjusting their aim based on what GreyDawn and Octavia were telling them. I noticed Centurion Claudia was not targeting the enemy troops who were closest to her line.

Darkness came quickly this far down South, not that it made much of a difference given our natural night vision, but the psychological effect was still there.

Especially when you were broken by an air attack and were still being attacked from behind.

In a way, the evocation grenadiers were worse.

A Grenadier Contubernium had two to four arcane grenadiers with the rest providing security and carrying ammunition. They were arcanists of mild to moderate power who could empower their grenades with greater power, used kinetomacy skills to help lob the shells with greater accuracy, and other talents that allowed them to use their weapons to great effect.

Evocation grenadiers were devastating in ground combat. From the amount of fire it seemed that this century had a higher number of grenadiers.

They used the Model 45 grenade launcher. A beast of dulled, but engraved, brass fittings and steel that looked like the oversized pump shotgun it basically was. The Model 45 has a deceptively long range, especially in talented hands.

Grenadiers could be used with the line Legionaries giving direct, sometimes indirect, heavy fire support. Such as in this case where they threaded with the standard infantry providing another layer of fire support.

Line legionaries also opened up with their battle rifles and their squad support weapons, but it was more of a mopping up operation after the evocation grenadiers sprung their ambush.

I wondered if Claudia had used her sharpshooters as well. Administratively, sharpshooters were put in the Grenadier Contuberniums. Though the sniper and observer pairs were typically detached and worked directly under the Centurion.

"Targets north of LZ 2 neutralized," I stated over the command channel. I glanced to confirm the power, weapons, and systems status of my Flight. "Flight 3 is nominal." I then read off our power and weapons figures. I included that my capacitor earrings were still at full.

"Understood. Move to patrol over the resort we're taking out most of our negotiation team in three," Quirinus said. "We've got an escort party lined up.

As I had us fly back up to the resort, I pondered my squadron commander's words. Some of our people were... staying? And they had not all left?

Granted that little ground attack had not taken too long, but air mobility was House BlackSky's focus. It was what the Legions and the Fleet trained to do, why would it take so long to load a bunch of negotiators and diplomats onto a transport and get them out?

Were the other factions worried that House BlackSky would abandon them?

I suppose I could understand that worry.

This was Luxon and Vualia's war, with Alecto's help.

At least I had gotten a good strafing run to get my baroness wingwoman blooded. And Octavia's experience had shown through; all in all, not too bad.

And a straightforward attack like that did not expose the performance differences between the two types of suits in my Flight.

A chime came in my ear as Flight Ops cut into the command channel. "Attention. Attention. Luxon Ritual Plate in squadron strength and Scarab transport are on approach to LZ 1." She then read off the vector.

I tensed. Lovely. Luxon had a fair bit of heavy air units that were spirit-inhabited golems. Which made for good bombers and heavy attack craft. However, they maintained a strong Air Corps of House Elena-derived Ritual Plate.

The presence of the Scarab, a major piece of kit, all but eliminated the chance that these were "irregular" forces who are "unaffiliated" with House Luxon. Not that a squadron of Ritual Plate was inexpensive in terms of skilled upkeep, but at least you could store an RP suit just about anywhere.

"This Luxon force is authorized. Repeat. Authorized." The cool voice of Fight Ops stressed. "They are there to evacuate the Luxon delegation."

Seeing the new returns from my Gorgon rig matched up the declared vector, my tension eased a bit. No wonder our people were holding back. These negotiations were in Vualia territory, and Luxon was the obvious aggressor and occupier in this conflict.

Not that being a belligerent, imperialistic invader came with much stigma in this world. All the Diyu Great Houses were aggressive and bellicose, if only to ensure their continued survival.

Still, it was entirely sensible to wait until the Luxon delegation was out of the conflict zone. And it was reassuring that they had cleared their travel path with BlackSkyvian Flight Ops.

I suppose no one wanted to have a VTOL full of diplomats get shot down.

Well... I'm guessing the colorfully armed irregulars, whoever they were, would like that.

"Everyone stay on alert," Quirinus reminded us, talking to her Flight leaders. "These might not be the same Luxon fliers that Flight Ops was told about, and even if they are, we've only got their word they're peaceable."

"Understood." I sighed. The Prefect Centurion was not wrong. I then relayed my orders to my Flight.

It did not take long for the Luxon formation to arrive. My disquiet grew as the imagery came in and I got a clear view of the approaching Ritual Plate. Well as clear as I could make out from the dark grey and sky-dark blues their camouflage systems cast the suits in.

"Are those Anupet multi-roles?" VioletBlood asked as we maneuvered to a higher altitude.

"That is my guess," I noted. The Anupet was House Luxon's answer to the Polyxo Advanced multi-role we were currently wearing. With a smaller Ritual Plate force, House Luxon wanted more flexibility and was willing to spend to have their elite get a parity, at least on an arcane and technical level, with BlackSkyvian hardware.

In the Anupet's favor, House Luxon used fixed wing craft for their strike and bomber roles. Thus the Luxon suit only had to be able to swap between ground support and air superiority. That simplified that model's logistical infrastructure, and their pilot training.

"Watch your weapons systems everyone; let them make the hostile move," I said as my Flight took a place that would give us an over watch of the Luxon landing.

In the center of the Luxon squadron was a rounded, almost bulbous, form of the Scarab transport. With twin pairs of adjustable-sweep wings, propulsion pods in the nose and end of the fuselage and a long twin boom tail, the VTOL looked more like a dragonfly than a beetle.

It was also at least fifty percent larger than an Umbra.

Which made sense, House Luxon's doctrine more centered on local mobility from garrison posts. Which emphasized shorter range but larger air transports and a larger amount of mechanized infantry. Something that dovetailed nicely with their Janissaries.

Two Flights of Anupets escorted the Scarab down as it landed a respectable distance from the Umbra Flight that was already loitering on the grounds around the resort complex.

The remaining Luxon RP Flight kept their altitude and pointedly turned off their camouflage systems. A quartet of sleek black Ritual Plate with gold trim and purple engravings stopped to a hover and stared up at us.

Their helmets had upright vaguely canine "ears" that integrated with their horns forming their scrying systems. There were longer ones that could clip on that were their analog to Gorgon Rigs, but oddly enough none of this flight had any of those.

And instead of the matte death mask look preferred by BlackSkyvian faceplates their masks had an almost lupine cast to them especially with how the breathing systems were built into something rather snout-like.

More disquieting than revealing themselves, the four Luxon pilots had stopped to regard my Flight.

In Ritual Plate combat, in aerial mage combat, in air combat period, mobility was vital. When you stopped moving you made yourself that much more of a target.

I did not have the time to deal with whatever mind game this was. But it made them easier to keep track of and...

"Prefect." I said on the command channel. "Our Luxon guests are landing."

"Yes, Countess, I see them." Quirinus commented.

"I don't know what game they're playing but one of their Flights decided to get all showy and put all their attention on me."

"You don't say," my squadron commander drawled. She obviously was watching the tactical situation.

"With their attention on my Flight, I suspect another Flight, one further out, could get an excellent target lock on the Anupets, and the rest of their squadron. Provided our negotiation partners had less than pure interests."

Quirinus laughed. "See how far the jackals follow you."

"Understood," I stated and after relaying my orders started to leisurely corkscrew down in altitude.

This would just so happen to take us past LZ 1 near the resort, and the rest of the Luxon assets. And our descent was slow enough that it could not be provocative.

The bright and shiny Luxon Flight kept their hover but did start to slowly drop to keep their relative position

Which suited me just fine.

The Scarab's wings had folded back a bit as it settled down. Its hull was mostly a grey that shifted between glossy and matt with golden tracery and crimson trim.

The side doors and rear ramp had opened and....

Well...

"That is a lot of Janissaries," VioletBlood noted.

I had to agree it was maybe a good platoon worth of Luxon heavy infantry.

And they were in a neat line formation against the more distributed group of Imperial Legionaries.

They wore a grey-green armor of heavy torso sections and thigh armor over a semi-rigid bodysuit that nearly covered their entire bodies. Their helmets were full-visored and adorned with light enhancing and heat detecting systems.

Meanwhile Legion Lorica was a segmented composite that was very strong but was built for flexibility and to allow for wings. Weight was also an issue. As armor and kit that were too heavy to fly were useless for a BlackSkyvian Legionary.

On the other hand, the Janissary kit cared little for that requirement.

Their weapons were a bit bulkier, which was saying a lot as the Legionaries carried Mark 36 battle rifles. The Mark 36 was a solid piece of simplified engineering that had a collapsing wood and brass stock and was relatively compact, but it was still an infantry weapon designed to be carried by a demoness and fired a rather powerful cartridge.

Luxon Janissaries did not have to worry about flight. And thus they had thicker and heavier armor, and when compared to the generally slight and feminine forms of Legionaries were bulky and muscular.

And almost all male. And nearly to a man taller than our Legionaries and thickly muscled and maybe twice their mass. And unlike our troops they had not engaged their camouflage systems.

Unusually for a Great House, Luxon made use of humans as front line combatants.

"So, those are human soldiers," Octavia noted.

"The idea has merit," I said. From my past lives I knew humans were perfectly lethal and capable soldiers. And when armed with modern weapons they were just as lethal as a demon.

"Really?"

"Why not?" I asked. "Yes they're weaker than us, at least pound for pound. They can't heal as quick as us, and their senses aren't as good. But a lot of that can be mitigated by medics, and their helmet sensors. And besides you don't need demonic powers to run a set of anti-aircraft guns or drive a tank. And they can pull a rifle trigger just as well as we can."

"But they can't fly," Octavia countered.

"That is a mobility hit, especially in urban combat, and for air deployment," I allowed as I continued to keep an eye on the Luxon, both on the ground and in the air.

"But that frees them up," GreyDawn noted. "If they did not have to worry about their soldiers having gear light enough to fly with, then they can carry more weight. Have heavier armor, more kit, more weapons."

"Right. But even with strength enhancements Janissaries would be limited in how far they could march. And since humans can already drive vehicles... Hence mechanized infantry."

"Don't look down on them just because they're human," GreyDwan warned Octavia and VioletBlood. "They're some of the most motivated troops Luxon has. They have every reason to perform their best."

House Luxon was in many ways the most artistic, cultured, creative, and indulgent of the Great Houses. Even by Diyu standards, they were decadent and socially stratified. And while they were expansionist, they did value their oaths, especially to those who gave service to the House. For long and despite their population and size, they had been the "Sick Woman of Diyu" but after a series of reforms their star had risen, which was a contributing factor to their invasion of House Vualia.

Being a human in house Luxon was to functionally be a serf, under the... protection of one noble family or another. Unless... you joined the Janissaries, then you and your family would be under the authority, and aegis, of High Lady Luxon herself.

It was also a way for any Luxon, Lady, citizen, or serf to escape debt. And, technically, a cruel mistress. All they had to do was make it to a Janissary recruiting post and declare their intention to serve and their mistress had to let them and their immediate family go.

The cynic in me approved of how this was a way High Lady Luxon could ensure her subordinates were not too cruel with their serfs, and when they were she would be able to take them as her own personal force.

"I also heard they make good pilots," VioletBlood said.

"I didn't think Janissaries were turned?" Octavia asked.

"I mean driving things like their Scarabs and bombers."

"There are demonic Janissaries," GreyDawn stated.

"And not just their officers?"

"Yeah, some demons will enlist in; those with bad debts. Kinda beats the alternatives there," GreyDawn admitted.

In a significant way, the Janissaries were a relief valve for Luxon's lowest classes: both human and demon. No matter how bad things could get, one always had that option. Which, given how I had ended up in the military in my second life, was a bit cynical even for me.

Yes, the greater your debt, the longer your term of service in the Janissaries would be, but the points off their debt would be adjusted for acts of valor and skill. One could even retire from the service with a nest egg, a pocket full of connections, and the permit to start a business.

And naturally the most physically and martially capable got the heavy infantry posts, which accrued the most "points" of Janissary service. But one did not need to be very large to be part of a vehicle crew, and that came with plenty of "glory". Not to mention the vast number of support posts.

Even if you died in the service, not at all unlikely, your family would be taken care of. It was not much, but a cleared debt, barracks housing and access to the mess, primary education, and opportunities for paid work on base was better than most Luxon serfs got. And they would be given first slots into joining the Janissaries on their own.

It was not much, but it was a way for social advancement and respectability. Which showed that Luxon might be ruthless, but even they understood that the lowest had to have some hope and some measure of recourse and self determination.

"Those Ritual Plate might be Janissaries?" Octavia asked.

"Sure, they might have even been born human. Maybe got wounded in battle. House Luxon isn't gonna waste talent by letting you die."
That was one thing, if you got mortally wounded as a Janissary, and an officer was around, and she wanted a new daughter.... that was that. It was part of the deal when you signed up.

Things were more flexible if your wounds merely crippled you. And it gave the wounded Janissary more time to find a patron, if they so wished. Even being medically discharged was not the end of service, as there were plenty of rear echelon and depot positions that could be filled.

Still in a society as stratified as House Luxon, the Janissaries were an option, one of the few, of advancement for the lowest. It was also an exploit as the Janissaries were seen as High Lady Luxon's boys. And were among her more favored and loyal troops. I had to admire the patronage system she had set up and maintained by honoring her commitments to them. I could also take issue with how she exploited a system that enabled her to purchase loyalty on the cheap.

"Thing is we're in Ritual Plate, so odds are good you won't even know if the Luxon ground forces shooting up at you are human or not," I said.

In a way, it was fascinating to see the divergence in ways to do "shock infantry". House Luxon went with a heavy mechanized infantryman with weighty armor, kit, and direct support by armored personnel carriers, infantry fighting vehicles, or landers.

For the most part, Luxon Janissaries were a force that was deployed a somewhat short distance from a garrison, ship, or base and had a heavy logistical footprint. Luxon weapons were powerful but maintenance, and parts, heavy.

Meanwhile, House BlackSky went with a paratrooper doctrine of a very high mobility infantry unit with flight capability, air transport, and extensive air support.

There was some crossover. Janissaries were often deployed via Scarabs, such as this case but they would perform best with vehicular support. And House BlackSky had Storm Legions which consisted of eight Vestal Scout tanks, four Lavin battle tanks and forty-eight Triarii infantry fighting vehicles. That gave a full cohort of mechanized infantry, plus two Cohorts that could be moved on Umbra medium VTOLs.

A BlackSkyvian legion, a Storm Legion could be deployed entirely via air. Though that would require a fair number of Gladius and Pugio Heavy VTOLs.

"And there go the Luxon diplomats," VioletBlood noted, watching the group of figures leave the resort complex and head to the line of Janissaries. They then talked with their officer. She wore the same style of heavy-armored uniform, save there were slots for her tail and wings, and her helmet had ports for her horns.

"Yeah, no one else wears that much gold," Octavia noted. "Huh, is it smart for the officers to look that way? Kinda make it obvious who the important targets are."

"They hide their wings, horns, and tail, in battle," GreyDawn stated. "In combat they look like just a big female Janissary, unless you get close enough to smell them, and even that's hard with those masks."

"Good sign for us then. Means they don't think this is a fight, at least with us," I stated.

"Could be why that flight sent a message," GreyDawn indicated the Anupet Ritual Plate who made their presence very well known and were standing guard over the Janissaries. "From their perspective it's got to feel like the sky is glaring at them and the spirits above are angry and not on their side."

"We are House BlackSky. That's how it's supposed to be," VioletBlood stated with the absolute confidence of a green troop.

I thought back to the demi-cohort sized formation we had shattered, well slaughtered. Anupet were good Ritual Plate, in many ways superior to the Elena models they were derived from. But still a squadron of them versus two Squadrons of Household Fleet and Imperial Legion? Not to mention three more squadrons from our Light Carrier.

"More reason for them to behave," I stated and sipped some water. I was perfectly happy to watch a rival House bundle up their diplomats.

"Everyone take a drink," I then ordered. Hydration was vital and easy to lose track of.

The Luxon delegation passed a few comments with the BlackSkyvian negotiators before they boarded onto the waiting Scarab.

The Janissaries then tromped aboard and under the watchful eyes of the Anupet squadron the transport's wings extended and the craft took off.

The Flight that had been eying us bowed their heads, engaged their camouflage and took the trailing position of their escort.

"The jackals seem to like you," VioletBlood noted.

"Lovely," I stated. "Let's get to a higher altitude. Don't think that with the Luxon delegation heading home that things are getting easier for us."

++++++

My frustration grew. More than enough time had passed for us to evacuate all our people. And indeed the bulk of our negotiation team, and even the Alecton delegation, had been pulled out.

But instead of withdrawing Legionaries, our Umbra Mediums were depositing heavy equipment. The Garuda's Nyx stealth scout, two Nymph utility transports, and our single Arachne artillery system had all had to be ferried to the ground.

The Arachne system consisted of one self propelled golem walker with a 4.9 in, 124 mm diameter, 44 caliber barrel. The golem had to ground itself before firing, but its multi-legged design gave it fair speed and good mobility over questionable terrain.

Each artillery piece was accompanied by a quartet of Marius Mules to carry shells, supplies for the six crew, and at least one was equipped with a Minerva rotary cannon or a Vel Missile launcher. There was a wheeled version of the Arachne that could be towed behind a Nymph which would also serve as an ammo transport.

Normally, the Arachne was deployed in a Tormenta of 4 guns which gave at least some salvo fire capability and allowed for the consolidation of Mules for defense and to get a resupply chain going. The Arachne were designed to fire a few rounds then get upright and scoot to a new location. An Arachne Battery consisted of three Tormenta and with the right arcane ammunition and artillery spotters could take out a good range of targets.

However...

"What good is just one Arachne?" VioletBlood asked. We were in a somewhat reserve position providing some air security over the Landing Zones.

I shrugged. "Well, it gave a bit of extra firepower. And more than that, they brought some more Mules."

"Yeah, that's more useful for moving stuff around," VioletBlood admitted.

"More than that. They're adding yet more anti-air platforms to the defenses the two Centuries were putting around the Resort," I countered.

VioletBlood made a noncommittal noise.

The nice thing about sticking an eight shot launcher on a Mule was the relatively small combat walker could be put in various positions separated from their scrying targeting systems, and if the Mule was killed by counter-fire then at least no lives would be lost.

"Look at it this way, between the Harmonia Squadrons the Fleet has put up, us, and the Vel missile umbrella there's three layers of anti air protection for our Legionaries." I explained. "Any assaulting squadron will have to burn through a lot of defenses."

"Don't discount the HFV Vajra," VioletBlood countered.

I had to agree. The Vajra only carried eighteen torpedoes, but a good fraction of them were interceptors and warding variants designed for fleet and ground defense both taking out large enemy air assaults and fast-mover munitions. "Good point. We've got four layers."

One of our Nymphs had a Vel missile system, the other had a Minerva rotary cannon in the cramped one-person turret in front. Cramped described the Nymph rather well. In both tracked and wheeled variants, it was a light thin-skinned vehicle that could carry about three tons or cargo or twelve Legionaries. Its armor, such as it was, and warding were good against small arms, shell fragments, arcane splash-over, and some heavier machine gun fire.

But the Nymph was not intended as a front line combatant, it was more of a utility vehicle that could move supplies and troops in rear to front roles. It was also light enough, and small enough that an Umbra could just barely fit two of them.

Which made it a go-to vehicle for formations that only had Medium and smaller VTOLs.

As a logistics utility vehicle, the little Nymph did that job well enough. Intentions were nice and all, but unless Legionaries landed with an Armor Cohort then their ground vehicular options would be limited to Nymphs and Mules. At least Nymphs were fast enough to not be complete death traps.

"What I don't get is why they brought down the Nymphs and that Nyx?" I asked.

VioletBlood made a thoughtful noise.

The Nyx was based on the Nymph but was a more expensive design. It had a far more advanced camouflage system that bordered on true Veiling and a suite of sensors and scrying systems. With a viewing cupola in the back, it made for a rather handy low-profile scouting vehicle.

It did not have quite the same storage capacity as the Nymph, but it could still work as a deployment of forward scouts or a stealthy resupply vehicle.

"Well," she said after a moment, "We've got spare drop capacity and time, and they're not doing anything positive up on the Garuda so why not bring them down?"

I sighed. Right, up on the airship they were just ballast, down here they were another tool for the Legionnaires to use. "I suppose, and worst case we can just scuttle them when we evacuate."

That our command had decided to bring an indirect fire platform, various supply vehicles, a scouting vehicle, and more supplies did give more options and support for the Legionaries who had landed.

But... it also implied an intention to stay and worse..

"Maybe Task Force 403 will be making a landing? They've got a whole Cohort of Legionaries," VioletBlood voiced the same worry I had.

"That would really expand things."

"Do you think there's enough enemies to justify that?" she asked.

I sighed at the eagerness in her voice. She had just helped me kill over a hundred irregulars and now she wanted more? I would have to make sure my Bloody Baroness of a wingwoman did not get out of control.

"While this area is a mess of factions and enemies, we don't even know why that group was marching up to attack us nor how many allies they have."

VioletBlood made a chagrined noise.

Fortunately, I was her superior both in military rank and social status now. Plus she somehow thought I was more bloodthirsty than she was.

I gave a noncommittal response then checked in with the rest of my Flight.

A couple minutes later my squadron commander's voice cut in. "Tauria, status?" Prefect Centurion Magnus Quirinus.

"LZ overwatch, and reserve. Systems green," I replied.

"Morale good?"

"Sure, our baroness is ready to get a few more scalps, and Octavia is in awe of her noble comrade's blood lust."

"Do tell." From Quirinus' tone she was familiar with the challenges of having to hold back eager, war-crazy subordinates. She did have experience training Cadets: who even by Legionary Flier standards were motivated and eager to fight.

"Good," she stated. "Scouting Pilots have found something ominous to the north east. Sending you the coordinates now. Vajra has already got a firing solution, but we want some close-in recon. I trust you understand the risks and you won't do any showboating?" she rhetorically asked.

"Of course," I agreed. It was nice to have a superior who was sensible.

Switching channels, I ordered my flight to take off in the heading.

"It's that bad?" I asked my commander.

"Yeah, maybe that's why the brass horns have decided to keep us around playing diplomats," the irritation dripped off her words.

"Maybe this is us showing BlackSkyvian diplomacy?" I lightly offered. We did have a reputation for bellicosity and swift reprisals.

Quirinus gave a bitter laugh. "Well, I'll let you know when Task Force 403 starts bombarding the city."

"I appreciate that," I stated with a suppressed sigh. Even my sensible superiors were battle maniacs. I suppose this was what happened when members of an empathic species made war.

Still, compared to spotting for a Destroyer, a Medium Air Trinity was a whole other level of power.

The HFV Vajra was a Mace Class destroyer with eighteen Fujiwara Aerial torpedoes. The Fujiwara was the big gun of the Fleet and for a ground target to warrant such attention was not a good sign.

Ritual Plate in ground attack configuration could take out some rather impressive targets, especially if deployed in squadrons. And even harder targets could have a Telephe Strike thrown at them. Torpedoes tended to be reserved for the largest targets or the most well defended or both.

I looked over the preliminary intel. "Oh. I see. "

"The Luxon delegation assured us that neither that Horus artillery battery nor that mechanized infantry formation is theirs. I suppose it's good they're still talking to us," she added, darkly.

"That's practically a full on Mechanized Infantry Battalion. A small one yes, but if we kill that and a heavy artillery battery someone is going to be upset," I pointed out.

"You are probably right, Tauria." My commander sighed.

"No complaints on my end, just pointing it out," I assured.

"I'm vectoring Mercy's Flight to provide backup for you and to help cover some scouting nonsense the Legionnaires have been ordered to do. RavenSnow's lot are doing some other busy work with a recovery op."

"Appreciate it," I stated. "Whose are they then? That's a lot of kit for irregulars, unless they just raided a depot. I don't think Luxon would let us bombard their forces as part of some plot, too wasteful. And they don't seem to be Alecton equipment. And Vualia wouldn't let us bombard their own troops on their territory."

"Assuming that those are still House Vualia forces," Quirinus stated. "Good luck. Get there within thirty. Out,"

Lovely. Maybe this was some sort of civil war in House Vualia and we had been drafted to clean up. I switched to my Flight channel. "Okay girls, we've got another job, this time Fleet's going to do all the heavy lifting."

I sent them the intel package.

"That's a lot of guns," Octavia noted.

"Luxon doctrine is fifteen guns to the battery. The imagery is fragmentary but I would not be surprised if they have plenty of support vehicles. The Horus is a big self-propelled gun and those Crocodile IFVs are thirsty beasts," I agreed.

"We can expect Hathor anti-air guns and defending Ritual Plate, then?" GreyDawn asked.

"Scouting Pilots did not get close enough to confirm," I said.

"That many asses in the field..." GreyDawn countered. She did not need to continue. Concentrating your forces, invited well... the exact kind of attack we were conducting.

"If these were Luxon regulars, sure," I merrily agreed. "But I have been assured that the Luxon delegation, our dear partners in peace, have disavowed this formation. Which could explain a lack of air support."

"There has been relatively few enemy Ritual Plate," VioletBlood noted.

That was true, there had been some fights against a few pilots in second-hand Alecto models that still bore defaced Vualia livery. Prefect RavenSnow's squadron took them out, giving them heavy casualties; their survivors fleeting back to Ortov.

I was suspicious that someone might be holding back their Ritual Plate forces. That little city was going to be a mess. Ritual Plate's small footprint made it trivial to hide them in urban environments and ambushes were common.

Thankfully our target was many miles to the east of Ortov.

"Ma'am, is command's theory that irregulars managed to get a battery of Luxon self propelled artillery and a mechanized battalion of IFVs?" GreyDawn asked.

I double-checked the intelligence. "It's entirely possible these are last generation Horus artillery pieces and the Crocodile has been in service for a long time. These might even date to before the invasion, back when Vualia bought military hardware from Luxon and Alecto."

GreyDawn made a noncommittal noise.

I had to admit it was a weak argument. My guess was that someone had been getting support from both Luxon and Vualia. And then when their perfidy was exposed both sides hung them out to dry. Course, this then left a rather heavily armed war lady with nothing to lose. And if she, her equipment, and a lot of people had to be taken care of? Well.. that was how it went.

War was such a waste.

My flight flew past Ortov, fortunately at a wide enough berth to avoid any enemy fire. Though the city's airspace seemed reasonably peaceful. Aside from some minor VTOL activity.

"We're approaching the area, I want you to stay out of range of any air defenses and keep on the lookout for enemy Ritual Plate," I ordered. "We're just here to confirm the target composition and location."

I got pings of affirmation.

"VioletBlood and I will use our Gorgon rigs to get targeting info. GreyDawn you and Octavia will be further back and higher; your job is to watch out for enemy air assets."

I updated our vector to an oblique to the target to maintain range.

And there they were.

The enemy formation was on the far side of a hill and had spread out in some farmland adjacent to a roadway and were just at the edge of some woods

It was not a great place to be but it put them within range of shelling Ortov.

We were many miles away and without my gorgon rig the vehicles would just be specks, but with the enhanced scrying capability it was just possible to make out their formation.

That was a battery of Mark 3 Horus artillery pieces. In Luxon doctrine, the self-propelled guns were heavily armored and used metal-sheathed crystalline barrels as energy projectors. One spare was clipped to each side of their hulls and even at this distance the heat vents on their back decks shimmered.

They were powerful rather long ranged beasts, but were resource intensive to keep fielded. I wondered who they had been firing at.

Corralled in with them were boxy supply vehicles and fuel browsers. While House BlackSky used compact, if energetic fuel cells, house Luxon preferred to use an alchemical slurry that was more efficient for the greater power requirements of arcane energy based weapon platforms.

"Amateur act?" VioletBlood asked as she added to our composite data feed. "Fuel tankers too close in, Crocodiles too far out, Hathors clustered together. And way to many dismounted troops. Are they going to occupy this area or take a lunch break?"

I swept my attention over the block and wedge-style troop carriers with their slab-like turrets with stubby guns. It was hard to make out details but... "Those... they're not Janissaries."

That was... reassuring. I had no objection to killing the enemy, but if given a choice between irregulars or maybe traitors, and some serf-soldiers working to get some scrap of status and security for their families...

I knew which one I would prefer.

"Yeah, all have wings and tails, no one's big enough." VioletBlood confirmed. "Luxon regular army?"

"Wrong uniforms, and those vehicles are old." I exhaled. Maybe these were just some very well-supplied irregulars. "And I'm only seeing a few Hathor anti air guns and..."

I stared.

VioletBlood's disbelief joined mine.

"That's two flights of Alecton Archer Ritual Plate, waiting on the ground."

"Maybe they're waiting for maintenance?"

"Maybe," I allowed. The Archer was Alecto's budget export model. Ostensibly, a Multi-role, it was really just an armed trainer. That said, it was inexpensive, by Ritual Plate standards, and capable enough, as long as your enemies did not have Ritual Plate of their own, or not very many.

"GreyDawn?" I asked.

"Confirm. We're detecting about a Squadron of Archers. They're rather close in at a low altitude. I'd say they're worried about Luxon RP sneaking in via the tree-line. Most of their attention is to the north.

"Shame," I noted. "You alert me the second their attention comes our way."

At our distance, with our tiny size and low visibility we would be hard to detect, especially if the enemy was not even looking in our direction.

I switched to a command channel and dialed into Fleet Ops. "Diamond Flight Actual with targeting information for HFV Vajra." As much as I was irked by my last name being shortened that way.. still... as callsigns went Diamond was far better than Pixie.

"We got you, Diamond," the cool voice I had thought of as Flight Ops said as she switched channels.

"This is Vajra," a clipped woman's voice stated. "Go ahead, Diamond."

"Relaying package." As the targeting location went over the thaumaturgical link I then verbally confirmed the coordinates. I did not want to have the bombardment fail because someone transposed a few numbers.

There was a low whistle. "Really? Clumped up like that."

"Yes, I can see why you were skeptical of the scouting report, but I've got eyes on them right now." I kept my voice calm.

"Hold your hat, Diamond; we're updating the targeting package now. You're gonna get a great view."

I kept in a shiver. Missileers and artillerists could get a detached view about the nature of their jobs and the carnage they released. This Telum Centurion sounded much the same, relishing the chance to erase a significant enemy force. Better that than directing her fire on civilian infrastructure.

For my part, I had to agree with her. But that was out of self interest, I would much rather have a large munition dropped on my enemies from miles away than have to fight them myself.

However the crew on the Vajra were over three hundred miles away. Which was close in terms of airship combat, intermediate in terms of Ritual Plate combat, but far in terms of ground combat.

"Wait, updating?"

The Telum Centurion gave a chuckling purr. "We launched three torpedoes twenty minutes ago."

That was why my squadron commander had given me a time limit. These madwomen had already launched a bombardment. Granted, they had preliminary intel and approval from Luxon.

"When are they going to impact?"

"Five minutes. In two hundred, eighty-five seconds at... mark. Requesting live access to your Gorgon rig."

"Setting up a link now." Ah, of course, these maniacs wanted a front row seat. They even had a tactical excuse as the feed from our Gorgon rigs would give them moment to moment targeting information.

To be fair, sending a live link back to Flight Ops, or an airship vectoring in Torpedoes or other assets was the designed role of the Gorgon Rig. And why it was made as a supplement to the normal scrying systems.

Keeping abreast on the live feed did involve more work as a pilot had to keep their Gorgon rig focused on the targets.

I then switched to the Flight channel. "VioletBlood, arrange to have your scrying data routed to the Vajra, they want a live feed for their targeting. Everyone else look alive, we've got a bombardment incoming.

"I'm putting up a clock. this will knock off a hornet's nest and we may have to fight some enemy RP or pick off survivors."

I then reactivated the Vajra channel. I sipped some water and watched the timer went down. Given the distance and the flight time that meant these were subsonic Torpedoes.

"What's the load-out? A Gae Bulg and a Lorg Mor? What else?" I asked the Destroyer officer. Those models of Fujiwara were ground attack variants that exchanged a decrease in range for an increase in payload. The Gae Bulg was an anti-personnel model while the Lorg Mor was anti-armor.

"And a Surtalogi," she added.

"All three?" I inquired. I could understand the AP and the AT weapons but the Surtalogi, or Surtr's fire, was basically a 1,400 lb fuel-air warhead. It was really good at creating a firestorm and longer-duration pressure waves. Fuel-air bombs were good at taking out soft targets and tunnel systems. For a destroyer with a fairly small Torpedo magazine it was a bit to have one in the magazine, unless the Vajra was carrying a sampler just in case.

"Correct Diamond. That's why we wanted you up there giving us telemetry. We have to make the most of this. Thanks for having your wingwoman add hers. Not many Flights go with two Gorgon Rigs."

"Glad to be a help," I demurred. Personally, I wanted more Flights to have at least two. I knew the counter arguments: the normal scrying system was good for combat use and even long range spotting; the Gorgon Rig was an expensive custom-fitted bit of kit; the Gorgon Rig was intended to be a broader reconnaissance platform with the intention of feeding live intel back to Flight Ops; the Gorgon Rig requires a lot of pilot skill in multi tasking to use to its fullest.

To all of those, I would say that the Ritual Plate was already very expensive and had a lot of custom-fit components. And it did not matter what the intention of the design, or how hard it was to use to its fullest. It was a scrying suite improvement that would give us an edge in battle.

Though I could understand the cost aspect. In my second life most of the Empire's aerial mages used the Type 13 Standard Computation Orb, which was a single core model that was functional enough. I was cursed with that one-off quad-core Type 95. Meanwhile my 203rd aerial mages used the production dual core Type 97.

Thus I could understand limiting the more expensive kit to a given unit. But that was the point, the whole of the 203rd had Type 97s.

And yes a supplementary sensor system was not the same as a computation orb in scope, but I thought this was a foolish attempt at cost savings.

Tension rose as the timer clicked down.

I managed to keep it under control. These were ground vehicles; even if they started running right now, they could not get far. And as long as my Flight survived, we could simply update the target point.

The smart thing would be to disperse themselves. Split up and go in many directions. But that was a survival tactic against a Torpedo bombardment. Against Ritual Plate, splitting up your defenses might be counter productive.

There was also a chance that the Gae Bulg, Lorg Mor, or Surtalogi might be intercepted. They were only traveling at three-quarters the speed of sound and were going a fair distance.

The Fujiwara Torpedo used air spirits as well. However instead of using Zephyr spirits for propulsion they used Notus spirits for guidance. In reality, the Notus stayed back on the launching airship and guided the massive missile in via thaumaturgical links between the spirits' sanctum and the control and scrying systems in the nosecone.

After the Torpedo was expended Telum Ritualista could then bond the Notus with a fresh Torpedo. That procedure took a bit of time, but was more on the scale of minutes than hours.

If the link was jammed, a very difficult proposal but possible, there was a more primitive analog guidance system but accuracy and control markedly decreased.

Key to this was that a Notus spirit was not expended with every Torpedo launch. On the contrary, like a Zephyr, a Notus could gain power and experience with each use. From a human resources, well spiritual resources standpoint, I appreciated giving air spirits fulfilling work and allowing them to grow in skill.

Though that did mean that the Telum Centurions and their supporting Ritualista gunners, bonded with spirits who liked lobbing high speed explosives at people.

"Sky is still clear, no one seems to be aware about our little launch," the Telum Centurion tried to sound reassuring.

We had faster Torpedoes, ones that traveled well above supersonic, but they had a much shorter range. Which was part of why the Hasta Torpedo bomber was so useful.

The two-tone chime of a Torpedo bombardment went off in my ears.

And then the entire enemy artillery and troop position was consumed in fire and overlapping explosions. The Gae Bulg and Lorg Mor were devastating weapons that both used sub-munitions. Meanwhile the Surtalogi had a big tank of a flammable alchemical medium with a charge that would spread the fuel out to a stoichiometric mix with the surrounding air before igniting it.

An ugly column of grey smoke came up from the conflagrations which itself lit up the night. Secondary explosions were massive as munitions, arcane storage, and fuels cooked off. Technically some of those would be tertiary explosions as the fuel browsers had blown a fraction of a second after the strike.

House BlackSky's reputation for bellicosity was not unwarranted.

The Gae Bulg carried over a hundred and fifty Sentis sub-munitions. Each of which had about five pounds of explosives per barbed sub-munition. Particularly experienced Notus spirits could conduct the terminal guidance of the various sub-munitions as they launched.

By contrast, the Lorg Mor only had thirty-six hardened Plumbata penetrators. These sub-munitions had explosive backs that helped them pierce through warding and armor.

And with the feed from two Gorgon Rigs, those happy, eager to please, air spirits would be delighted to show off and aim those Plumbata penetrators to individual vehicles and those Sentis sub-munitions to the largest concentrations of people.

And immediately after those two, the Surtalogi detonated about three-quarters of a ton of alchemically-treated explosive fuel that had been dispersed, too fast to see, into a cloud over the target area. The ignition of that much explosives spread out into that much area created a massive conflagrating wump.

It was a comprehensive and multi-layered attack. Part of me wanted to ask why they didn't just lob a few Galatine high explosive Torpedoes. Though, it probably would have taken six of those to do the job. And the Vajra did not have that big of a magazine.

"Battle damage assessment?" Telum Centurion asked.

"You can see my damn feed!" I shouted back, my self control momentarily slipping. That was the point of this link. I winced; I knew I had to be as enthusiastic as they were. "You better reward those spirits for some great shooting! That's a clean sweep on Horus and Hathor artillery pieces."

"I'm reading at least three-quarters of Crocodiles here destroyed, the rest seem to be mission kills." VioletBlood paused. "Infantry casualties are... high. We may have to wait for the fires to die down to see who survived. At least some were in the outer perimeter."

"Ritual Plate status?" I asked the other two in my Flight.

"Archer suits on the ground are gone," GreyDawn flatly said. "Half of those on overwatch are buzzing about in a panic looking for where this came from. The other half went to the ground to try to find... survivors."

A noble effort, but a waste of air power resources. Unless someone of real high value was commanding that formation "I think we've worn out our welcome," I stated.

"Good shooting Vajra," I transmitted as I shut down my Gorgon link with the Destroyer.

"Good scouting, Diamond Flight," she replied as I adjusted our vector.

I upped our speed as we dashed back. Even with some support from Mercy Flight we were far out to the North east from the rest of our forces.

"Good work everyone," I said over the Flight channel. "I know it's not as glamorous as getting our own claws wet but we helped take out an artillery battery and a mechanized infantry battalion with no losses to our side. I call that a win."

I was not actually sure about that. Yes, we took no losses, but was that a wise use of resources? The massive cost of three Fujiwara torpedoes aside, the Vjra only had eighteen total. Fifteen now. And only a fraction of those would be ground support variants.

I had us adjust our vector as we started to go around Ortov.

There was then a harsh chime over the command channel, that was the tone used for Search and Rescue. "All Flights. All Flights, we have a Spatha down. I repeat we have a Spatha down. Coordinates are as follows."

Updating my map display I swore. That was right in the south side of Ortov in a pretty populated area of the city.

"Why in DarkStar's name is a lone light VTOL in a hostile urban area?" I murmured under my breath. I swallowed my worry.

There was a covenant between VTOL Pilots and Ritual Plate Pilots. We escorted them on combat drops whenever possible. And if we were downed, they would come to try to rescue us. Pilot recovery was a key duty of the Spatha Light VTOLs every Ritual Plate carrier had.
"This is Diamond Actual, my fight is Passing by Ortov," I transmitted. "What happened?"

"A Spatha was doing a recovery operation; their escorting Fleet RP got jumped by enemy Ritual Plate," Flight Ops said. I could hear a tiny bit of strain in her normally cool voice. "They saw them off but took losses and then ground fire tagged the VTOL. We have footage of survivors on the ground."

I swore. Doing air support and survivor recovery in a hostile urban area was a nightmare. But there was no way I could avoid this. "Confirm. We're going in."

"Understood, Diamond. We're trying to get a VTOL vectored in but understand that enemy Ritual Plate has increased activity over the city."

This time my swear was silent. "Prefect Quirinus."

"Yes," My squadron leader replied.

"I'm calling in that offer with Mercy's Flight."

"Whatever you need."

I thought. With only four people securing the crash site would be the critical duty. "If you can have her and even your own Flight run interference on enemy Ritual Plate that would be appreciated."

"I'll see what I can do. You won't be alone out there, but you may have to get creative," Quirinus stated.

I felt a pain behind my forehead. Creative, in urban combat. Lovely.

"Unfortunately, it looks like you were right, blowing up that artillery position set off everything and we've got our hands full."

I swore for a third time.

"Quite right, Countess," came my commander's wry reply.

I took a second to compose myself then switched to my Flight channel. At least now my trio of warmongers would get to sate their bloodlust up close and personal.

End Chapter 7

Well I had some plans for what to do after this battle that would be at the end of ch7.

But as you can guess the fighting ended up running a bit longer.

Though I'm not sure there is too much objection to having more combat.
I have been doing revision work, starting with the prologue and first chapter, and have plans for the glossary and character list.

 

From the great ScittyKitty have have some art!


Full size.


Poor Tauria realizing that being a duchess's daughter requires some formal functions where she can't get away with wearing her uniform.

Heavy is the Preserver Crown on our little Countess.


PS: Ch8 is going very well. I'm starting the final combat scene. And while I could put up a 8,500 word chapter that ends on a cliffhanger. I think folks might want to wait a bit more to have a fuller arc for the chapter. Or maybe I could have what I have now as ch8.

Plusan ending scene with a familiar POV shift.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.
http://www.fukufics.com/fic/

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 8: And Kill Them Part 1


Rescue missions and urban combat make for a frustrating combination.

A Spatha Light VTOL had gone down over southern Ortov and my Flight had been sent in. The situation could be worse. Myself and my three pilots were in the upper three quarters on both power and munition levels.

Of our two combat sorties, one was a strafing mission over enemy infantry, with some anti-air support, and the other was bombardment spotting. The latter did not require us to fire any of our own weapons, merely provide intel and targeting telemetry for a Fujiwara aerial Torpedo strike.

Given all that, we were maybe seventy-percent left on our anti-infantry Falx projectors. Though we were at maybe eighty-percent on average for our anti-armor Pilum projectors. And were still on a full load of our anti-arcane Verutum launchers. Additionally, my capacitor earrings were still at a full charge.

The map display showed the location of where the Spatha had gone down. It... could be worse. Though it could be a lot better.

"Spatha Two. Spatha Two. This is Diamond Flight. We are coming to your position. What is your status?" I asked over the channel the Light Carrier's Spatha Flight used.

There was a hash of distortion and a clipped signal.

"Diamond Flight, good to hear you! We are pinned down. Returning fire." There was a squelch and then the sound of gunfire. The VTOL pilot, if that was who she was, sounded ragged.

I ordered my Flight to go at full dash speed. It made us more visible as we raced over the city which was a calculated risk. "Understood, we are coming in forty-five." Can you designate targets? How many are alive? How many can fly under their own power?"

There was a bitter laugh. "Cockpit took a lot of damage Diamond Flight. I'm on backup comms. We've got five survivors. Myself and the VIP are okay. Of the Legionaries their medico has a bad leg, but she can fly. Another is unconscious, maybe stable. Last one got shrapnel through her wings."

I winced. "Are the injured movable? Is anyone pinned by wreckage?" The numbers were not good, but there were still options.

"Nobody alive, Diamond Flight," She tersely replied. There was the sound of some sort of grenade going off.

"Even just a direction incoming fire is coming from can help."

The Ventus Centurion laughed. "I can do better. Ready Diamond?"

I gave confirmation and she started reading off coordinates and strengths, which I populated onto the map. It was all vague and she paused to get confirmation from the other survivors.

But that allowed for me to split my attention and share the targeting data with the rest of my Flight and outline my plan.

++++++

The downed VTOL was part of HFV Syracuse, a Damocles Light Carrier's Spatha Flight. Coming down in a plaza in the south-western Ortov, the pilot had tried to make a landing, but the Spatha laid halfway onto a shattered fountain on its left side, with one engine nacelle burst wreckage while the other had been torn off with its wing and lay under the aircraft.

Well... the Ventus Centurion had gotten most of her passengers down alive.

Getting them out was now our job.

The plaza might have been nice once. The fountain's center-piece was some abstract thing. The night hour did not help but the whole place had a desperate shabbiness to it, like an old garment worn thin by too many washes. Though I suppose the city was close to the occupied zone.

True to the VTOL Pilot's description, the Spatha was under fire from there sides.

Down a broad avenue to the north was sporadic gunfire. To the east shots were coming from the second floor of what looked like a soul-less concrete apartment block. That was where the surviving Legionaries had put most of their fire to suppress the enemy. According to the pilot, they had started out with some sort of heavy machine gun, but after the first gunner and then the replacement gunner were killed the enemy had been more circumspect. An alleyway to the south also was the source of some potshots, but was fairly quiet.

The whole plaza was empty and had more than a few abandoned and burning cars. The intersections around the crash site seemed to be blocked, though there were a few Vualian civil authority vehicles that looked to be caught between containing the scene and keeping the populace held back.

Either way, they were neither rendering aid nor attacking, and my orders were prioritizing getting our people out. At the moment, I still had no idea who was behind this attack, insurrection, civil war, coup or whatever it was.

That was above my pay grade. My concern was the status of the survivors and that of certain buildings around the plaza. The evening sky was starting to cloud over, reflecting some of the fires that had started in the rest of the city.

"Mark targets, Violet," I ordered as I continued to check out our surroundings. There was what might have been a terraced office building that had promise.

The four of us raced in at near full velocity as blocks swept past below us. The picture ahead became clearer with each instant as VioletBlood did her work. The sudden stop was going to be painful but vital.

"Got it!" VioletBlood said as the suspected markers the Spatha Pilot gave me changed from yellow to red. At least two of the sets of markers.

Sustained fire started to come out of that apartment. I guess they found someone willing to take up that heavy machine gun.

"Confirm! I take the apartment; you take the avenue." I exhaled and launched a Pilum bolt into the offending building, while VioletBlood used her Falx projector to strafe the area around the roadway.

The fire from the avenue scattered while that whole apartment blew out. The Pilum was set to go through armored vehicles, so aiming at a concrete wall would cause the arcane bolt to detonate and spray concrete inside. It was not a perfect solution, but it was at hand.

I might have had greater concerns, but it was the irregulars who decided that a residential building made a good place to mount heavy weapons.

And then from that alley some sort of missile or rocket grenade was launched right at the Spatha.

VioletBlood and I swiveled to intercept, but the warhead was caught and blew apart against a shimmering, iridescent wall, projected before the downed craft. Oh, that was not a standard warding that was a bit more... psionic.

There was no time to ponder which of the survivors had extra capabilities, but that very well might be useful in the next phase of my plan.

"GreyDawn, Octavia, go!" When it came to splitting my Flight, I picked them for one simple reason. I was the shortest and lightest member of the Flight and VioletBlood was not much bigger. Their Polydora suits were less capable than the Polyxo that VioletBlood and myself wore but that was not a factor, at least in this.

Ritual Plate did give much of a strength enhancement, beyond helping bear the weight of the armored flight suit itself. Not just the weight, a fully kitted Legionary was a bulky, person-sized load. And those two members of my Flight were the tallest.

I gritted my teeth as VioletBlood and I slowed into a rolling loop over the plaza. GreyDawn and Octavia dropped right down to the VTOL.

"This is Diamond Flight!" GreyDawn said over the Spatha Pilot's and the Flight's channel. "We're here to take you out."

"Two of you?" The Spatha Pilot asked.

"We'll each take one of your wounded. The rest will fly with us."

"But we're not in flight armor," one of the legionaries said.

"I might be able to get a bit of help, some of my Zephyr survived the crash," the Spatha Pilot admitted.

"Outstanding!" I said as I fired down that alleyway. VioletBlood was to my back as we hovered over the plaza. It was a horrifically exposed position, as was intended. "We're only having you fly a short distance, you're way too exposed down there."

"Right."

"Is the VTOL ready to be scuttled?" I asked.

The pilot paused for a moment. While there was no official way to self-destruct such a craft, even a Spatha Light had enough highly power-dense fuel cells, onboard munitions, and other energetic components to make it feasible. And if your position was at risk of being overrun well... that was the prudent option.

"Yes, right after I secured the sprit sanctum," she admitted.

"Good."

"I might be able to help," a polite voice cut in as we were talking at a dinner party.

"You the psionic?" I demanded as some small arms fire bounced off my warding.

"I am."

"Wonderful!" I tried to sound sincere. That was the best place for someone with such mental powers, where they could protect the other survivors and be too far to pry into my own mind. "If you can shield or intercept any incoming, that would be appreciated. There's a terraced office building to the south. Fifth floor; that's your destination right now" I said as I sent a short Falx burst at the group that had fired on me.

A lot of the bottom floor stores of the office building were boarded up. Which I suppose was prudent in light of tonight's events. But it helped show that this place was on a desperate decline for a while.

Behind me my wingwoman sent a longer burst at whoever had fired on her. "Violet, mind your ammo use."

"I've got some signals to the north! Might be armor, might be infantry, or both," VioletBlood said.

Lovely. I glanced down and saw that GreyDawn and Octavia were each carrying a person in front of them supporting on their arms the wounded, who had their own arms around the pilot's shoulders. Though the grip of the semi-conscious Legionary was not great. And the other survivors were ready.

"We are going!" I ordered as I figured out and VioletBlood followed. The Legionaries fired themselves, launching a pair of underslung grenades.

Under the barrage, the two Ritual Plate with the heavily wounded and three survivors flew out and up.

Fire intensified around them as the irregulars opened up, but was shot down as Violet and myself used a few judicious Pilum shots to blow up obvious enemies and Falx bursts to suppress.

They flew out and across the plaza. There were a couple splashes of iridescent power as Octavia, GreyDawn and the psion formed wards around the Spatha Pilot and the Legionary medico who could still fly. The VTOL pilot was also carrying a bulky cylinder on a shoulder strap which was probably some sort of spirit sanctum.

Her own Zephyr were helping push the group faster than normal unpowered flight speed.

When it became clear that they were leaving the plaza, VioletBlood and I dropped back and turned to cover their escape.

I gave a bit of relief when the survivors landed on the terrace and had survivors helped secure that office building.

"VioletBlood, scuttle that VTOL," I ordered.

I could just feel VioletBlood's distaste but she complied and lined up a Pilum shot. I sympathized with her plight. Under normal circumstances, the Legions would recover the bodies of the fallen. We would probably send in an Umbra Medium to act as a sky crane and recover the Spatha Light.

But our resources were cut thin, and this city felt like it was about to rip apart at the seams. I could not justify possibly losing an even bigger VTOL with more people on it to recover this one. But that Spatha contained sensitive information, not to mention our fallen comrades.

And without any contrary orders, it was up to me. I was the commanding Centurion on the scene.

VioletBlood fired and the plaza briefly turned into day as the downed Spatha exploded.

"Flight Ops, this is Diamond Flight," I said over the command channel.

"Diamond Flight, go."

"We have five survivors from Spatha Two, including a presumed VIP. They have been moved to a more secure and elevated position. "

"That is fantastic!" emotion slipped past her normally controlled tone.

"I'm routing you with the surviving Spatha Pilot, she can give you a status on the wounded."

"Understood, I'm getting another communication officer to talk with Ventus Centurion Opal so I can keep you on the line."

I made the connections and introduction and held back and glanced at the map on my Display.

"ETA on pickup?" I asked when it was just the two of us.

There was a pause. "The situation has gotten more complex, Diamond."

I kept from swearing. Or at least I cut off my microphone for half a minute while Flight Ops explained.

"House Luxon has sent a Brigade-strength force across the border. Scouting Branch has detected integrated artillery support and a wing of Ritual Plate. Scarab VTOLs are already sending Janissaries to secure points ahead of their spearhead."

"Are they headed for Ortov?"

"Correct, they're saying they intend to provide security and help the other negotiating parties figure out where their hardware came from. Queen Vualia is... considering their request."

I gave a bitter laugh. House Vualia's defensive plans for Ortov were.... don't.

It was too small of a location, too close to the border and too easily overrun and while there was a major base of support several hundred miles to the south, it was felt that putting too many defenses in Ortov would leave them vulnerable to a concerted Luxon push.

I had my doubts about that calculus, But even if I agreed with the overall strategic picture... just the limited resources of a smaller power facing a grinding invasion from a larger power that had to deal with crumbling loyalties would make holding Ortov a tough call.

However, tacitly, nearly openly, admitting that Ortov would not be defended would upset the people who lived here. No wonder this place was a hotbed of strife.

"Have the Luxon forces said they'll engage us?"

"They're continuing to keep us informed, technically," the comms officer gave a wry chuckle. "But we're also getting more of the irregulars in Ortov taking to the air."

"Composition?"

"Multiple Squadrons of Archers and we have imagery of at least two Flights of Yeoman. They're slowly getting more organized and have realized that we'll pick them off unless they both defend their ground forces from the air and organize said aerial assets."

"Understood." I frowned. The Yeoman was one of Alecto's higher end export models of Ritual Plate. It was what House Alecto called an airspace defense model. Its main role was to protect friendly ground support Ritual Plate while being able to engage enemy suits. It had slightly reduced defense systems and more low speed agility when compared to a BlackSkyvian Harmonia but it was a reasonable suit.

It was also rather expensive compared to Alecto's other export suits, and thus was supposed to have been kept under tighter control by forces loyal to Queen Vualia. "I see."

Flight Ops chuckled. "Vualia has been making noises that this may be more than irregulars. Our consensus is this might be a form of civil war or abortive coup."

It was no coincidence that these forces rebels or irregulars were deploying their Ritual Plate now. They started off with relatively light air support and seemed to be more concerned with moving their heavy ground equipment.

Maybe they thought they could move their troops in and escalate on their terms, but then we started hitting them with Torpedoes, and Luxon crossed the border in strength. Did they not know how we would respond to provocation? Did they think they had a deal with Luxon?

And once their ground forces were being hit, they deployed their Ritual Plate. they could have kept their Ritual Plate hidden and moved them out of the city via conventional means. Maybe they still were.

But I was worried if the enemy was engaged in a sunk-cost fallacy. Some officers, those more driven by ideas of sentiment and honor, had a hard time realizing that sometimes you had to stop throwing good troops after bad.

That I was having these thoughts while engaged in a rescue mission did not escape my notice as I continued to scan over the cityscape. For the moment the office building was secure, but it was hardly a secret where the survivors had gone. "All the more reason to get these people out."

"We're getting a force ready, Diamond Flight. Good work on extraction. You are free to move them and delay enemy forces as you see fit."

"Understood," I kept the sigh in. What could I say? I ordered Spatha Two blown up because I did not want us losing another VTOL trying to recover it.

Flight Ops was taking a similar concern. A rescue force could easily need rescue of their own.

Especially with Luxon adding even more stress to the situation with their own invasion. Though Ortov would be a problem for them as well.

Unless they advanced over a broad front, Ortov would be a salient that even Vualia could surround if not fully encircle. Not to mention, Vualia's northernmost major base was within easy striking distance of Ortov.

The city was close to the border, but it was still far enough that occupying it was a poisoned chalice for Luxon. Unless Luxon was willing to push a good part of the front forward to secure the corridor between Ortov and the Occupation zone.

The situation was spiraling out of control. That Vualia was still talking with Luxon despite a major border incursion was a sign of... something.

Possibly that both the invaded Minor House and the occupying Greater House were willing to coordinate to crush these "irregulars". Which if this was a coup could mean that someone's catspaw had failed and was being cleaned up.

"Diamond Flight, after consulting with Ventus Centurion Opal as to the status of the wounded, we are giving you a reference point that should be an easier extraction. Give them time to stabilize and use your best judgment to move closer to there if you can."

As she read the coordinates and I confirmed them, I looked at the map where that location was. It was a good number of miles to the south and basically on the outskirts of the city.

A city with an airspace that was starting to get more unfriendly.

"Getting the survivors there is not required but the closer to that point the more easily recovery can be done."

"Understood," I kept in another sigh. "If we can't move them, we'll try to open up a corridor for the recovery VTOLs."

"We'll vector what support we can but-" Flight Ops' voice cut off for a moment as a city block to several miles east blew up with several buildings collapsing in on themselves as a plume of smoke and fire went into the sky.

"Diamond Flight, that was not one of ours!" Flight Ops stated the composure of her voice slipping a bit. She swore under her breath. "Diamond there's going to be some counter battery fire on our end."

Another building to the north went down.

"Ours?" I asked. there was no two-tone chime of an incoming Torpedo strike. It did not sound like Hourus artillery guns. But soon enough Luxon would be adding their own firepower.

"Nope, we're getting footage of irregulars firing on each other. They might be splintering in light of the Luxon advance. Or possibly due to what Task Force 403 is doing to the East." Flight Ops paused. "Beyond your concern."

"Understood." If our larger Task Force was engaged all that meant for me was that reinforcements from them were not forthcoming.


++++++

The medico among the survivors had enough time to stabilize her own broken leg and ensure the Legionary with the shredded wings would not bleed out and was on enough analgesics to maintain composure. Wings, especially membranous ones had a surprising amount of blood flow and while the bleeding could be stopped it did limit flight capability. The unconscious legionary was woken up and the upside to me was that the medico did not yell at me too loudly for the lack of immediate extraction.

I took that as meaning her charges were reasonably stabilized and that moving them and waiting for Evac would not be too detrimental. Not that the alternative was much better.

The psionic VIP may have helped calm her down. "Karena is passionate but she understands your situation," she transmitted to me, after patching in through Centurion Opal's communications system.

"Does she have any ire towards you, Evadne?" I asked. Evadne wore a set of Legionary lorica armor and helmet over grey casual-wear that would have blended into Ortov. She said she was a Palace Librarian which was either a cover or some academic who was caught and needed immediate extraction.

I was doubtful an academic would also be a powerful enough psion, but such things did happen.

She had been helpful when it came to moving the survivors from the office building to the roof of a garbage truck depot that was a bit further out of the city. The Legionaries complained a bit about the smell but that was just standard grousing, It's not like the trash was stored there, just the trucks. They had been there long enough to get some more medical care, have something solid to eat, and drink.

Having a stash of vehicles had potential, especially ones that seemed functional. Ground travel had some advantages. For my purpose, the main one was that the non-flying wounded could be moved without having half my Flight act as "stretcher bearers".

Fortunately, given the battle, the workers had decided to stay home tonight.

The condition of the trucks was surprisingly good, then again the streets were still somewhat clean. When a city started to have a garbage problem that was when you knew something had gone very wrong. Our sense of smell was more sensitive than a human's which was one of the reasons why higher population densities were... problematic for us.

The other reasons, our aggression, access to fire and claws, and pressures when empaths were in close proximity to tens of thousands of other empaths, were why I wondered how much of this city would remain come morning. After we blew up the plaza there had been some small mobs, but the civil aggression was still boiling up.

"No," there was a pause. "Kaena knows I lost my bodyguard in the crash."

"Right." I exhaled. "Honest assessment Evadne: should I have GreyDawn bundle you up and fly off with you while Octavia takes whichever Legionary Karena thinks is worse off?"

"For ideal performance at most half of a Ritual Plate formation should be carrying wounded," the librarian recited.

"I'm not giving away half of my strength to just get one person out," I stated. In a pure rational vacuum, I would have. If Evadne had some sort of intelligence that by sensitivity or volume could not be transmitted, then getting her out was the priority. Several Legionaries had already died to get her this far.

However, that decision did not exist in a vacuum. As bloodthirsty as my superiors could be, I knew they did have a sentimentality to them. More importantly, if I got the reputation as someone who would do whatever required for our intelligence services, no matter how coldly-cruel it was, then that would make me appealing to them.

Dangerously so.

If I were known as someone who could surmount impossible odds while being ethically callous to support intelligence operations, then the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance was sure to snap me up. And as risky as being a Legionary Flier was, working for CSR Spooks as their fire support would be even worse.

"Your concern is appreciated, Countess of the Preserver Order," Librarian Evadne said. "But I will also stay here to protect our Legionaries."

Great, she knew who I was. No choice now but to lean into it. "I would expect no less! I will ensure that you all will get out, no matter who I have to cut through in order to do it. We came here as arbitrators to oversee a ceasefire. But no, these oath breakers have drawn us into their treason! They have attacked us for no cause, and they will pay."

After a moment I heard quiet cheers from the Legionary survivors. Damn. Evadne must have put us on their common channel.

"Huzzah!" VioletBlood cheered.

Octavia seemed similarly awed based on her commentary.

Oh, I was also on the Flight channel.

I was very happy that my Wingwoman was both far from me and that I was wearing an opaque mask.

My tail flicked in the wind stream.

"Well said Primus, but we still have to decide if we hold here for a bit longer or move right now," GreyDawn stated, as she switched to a private channel with me.

"I'm open to suggestions. We've got a few contingencies ready."

She and Octavia were flying closer to the garbage truck depot but we were all in the air and using our camouflage systems, reasonable Veils, and careful flight paths to make it not obvious what we were patrolling over.

"Our Squadrons are engaging the Irregulars, and we have the upper hand in the air but it's not decisive."

"Yeah, they picked a hell of a time to get their air defenses organized."

"A Mechanized Infantry Brigade of Luxon Janissaries does wonderful things to focus the mind," GreyDawn joked. "But the main air threat to them is our forces. Not to mention, they don't want their southern flank exposed. We've already tangled with their scouting elements on the ground. They will push past or formation soon enough."

"They're got forces out past us. They have troops going after our landing zones right now. There would have been more if not for the troops we killed when our Centuries first landed."

"And I'm sure they'd be willing to thank us for it," GreyDawn's light tone had a bit of tension. It was one thing to be captured by a Great House as a pilot. We had value. Granted, as the case with that Zioxan War Mistress I killed, that value could be expressed in a twisted way.

Irregulars? Well they might not think too kindly of someone who was killing their fellow infantry in mass numbers. And my kind could get especially creative when it came to putting punishment upon a hated foe. This was one of the cases where our healing and regeneration was a decided detriment.

"And at least one of our Centuries is fighting their reinforcements." I glanced over the map. Functionally, we were behind enemy lines. This was less of a novelty given how House BlackSky preferred high mobility aerial insertion.

That still meant we were charged with protecting a tiny infantry force who could easily be overwhelmed. "Suggestions?" I asked

"Get another Flight or two in here and we fly everyone out in one go," GreyDawn stated.

"Yeah, that's pretty-much what I'd prefer. It won't be subtle, so I think we can get the Legionaries a bit closer to our forces before we start an airlift swarm." I looked over the depot. "It would take time to get that organized."

We could stay longer, this was not a bad place to wait until then. The fences gave a bit of an access barrier to the perimeter, parking lot, maintenance bays, and ground gave some clear fields of fire.

But I preferred to keep the survivors moving. "I think we should use a different form of transport and move them to a closer rally point. If a mob finds us we might have to deal with hundreds of civilians mixed with who knows how many irregulars. Move then airlift."

"Would be a shorter distance airlift too," GreyDawn added.

A two tone chime went off and there was a series of explosions to the west. That was one of ours. It looked like a Skofnung. The air-to-air Torpedo carried nearly two dozen Vel missiles. It was useful in a counter missile, Ritual Plate or other enemy air assets role. Good targeting data really helped with the performance, especially with fast or nimble targets.

Our own Ritual Pate, specially RavenSnow's squadron, followed in to mop up, and then take out the ground forces that had been trying to flank our landing zone. The Ballista Projectors Harmonia carried for air-to-air roles were a bit overkill in anti-infantry and anti-soft vehicle roles even when dialed down in power, but they would be effective, if not efficient.

It was not quite as bad as using Pilum bolts on infantry, but the poor Hoof-sloggers might not know the difference.

Though that did not have my primary attention. That fell onto movement to the North, far closer to us.

"Diamond, are you seeing this?" VioletBlood said using a priority interrupt as she added her take to my map display.

My scrying system could just start making out the screeching sound of incoming fire from Horus artillery guns. Great. House Luxon was close enough to start firing on the northern part of the city.

However, that was not what VioletBlood was highlighting. There was something far closer to us. And at least was smaller than the mess RavenSnow's Squadron was dealing with.

"I am," I switched to both the Flight channel and the survivor's. "Okay, we're getting some signals. A mixed air and ground force to the north."

"Looks like a couple troops of Crocodiles with a few Hathors as some anti-air. Ground troops are still forming up," Octavia noted as she observed the intake. Her scrying system was the standard model but at the moment she was a bit better placed to get info on the ground elements.

"They're supported by a Squadron of Archers, who are in turn overwatched by a Flight of Yeomen," VioletBlood said.

"Are they coming to us?" Librarian Evadne asked.

I double-checked the map. "Their track seems to have the ground troops pass parallel to your location by a few blocks, but they might turn, they might have scouts that pick you up. Those Yeomen have rather good scrying systems."

"But they will notice you four," Evadne noted.

"They will soon enough." If I took my Flight and left, then the enemy column might miss the survivors. We certainly were not circling right over the truck depot so even if they spotted us now they would not know why we were over the city.

It was probable that they would assume we were set up as a force to destroy their ground troops. Hence why they had their own RP Squadron covering them. Though they might suspect BlackSkyvian forward scouts had infiltrated the city.

That was part of our doctrine. And if they found the survivors what the enemy would suspect them of being.

That would be three wounded Legionaries, a VTOL Pilot and a Librarian against at least two centuries worth of infantry with Ritual Plate and mechanized support.

It made my decision easy enough. "We're going to take out the column, the armor, the infantry, the Ritual Plate, all of it."

"What will we do?" Evandne asked.

"You'll be getting ready to extract." I focused on the garbage truck depot. The vehicles were bulky and heavy duty things, they had fewer hydraulics than the ones in my first life, but were more than the glorified horse carts of my second. "And you, my Librarian, are going to ready one of those trucks you've inspected and get it up and running. Unless Opal, you think you're a better driver?" I asked our VTOL Pilot.

A garbage truck was hardly subtle, it was also not really armored, but it could barrel through most obstructions, and if we timed it right, after my destroying, or at least mission-killing that column, my Flight could provide escort.

And Evadne could provide extra protection.

It might get them closer to an area where we had enough air assets to pull them out. If not, it would at least give the survivors something to do. And would give them another option for a way to exit the combat zone.

Honestly, I considered having GreyDawn and Octavia help move the wounded on wing; I had a couple potential locations already shared.

But now, my focus was on getting rid of this enemy force. I put a request into Flight Ops for support, either a Torpedo strike or more Ritual Plate assets.

It would be nice, but I would honestly prefer a VTOL with Ritual Plate support to come in and pick up the survivors. That would free my Flight up.

However, given the fresh assault on the centuries at the resort I could understand the limit of resources. I would have to make the most of what I had to put the most pain upon the enemy.

++++++

Two centuries of BlackSkyvian Legionaries was not enough to make a full barrier to the Irregulars, rebels, or whoever were trying to flee from the Luxon advance. However, they were still positioned to be a threat to anyone who was going South. Especially given how the foothills in this area consisted of many sprawling valleys.

This new column was enough of a force, especially with the air assets attached to them to represent something the Irregulars would have to wheel widely around to pass without issue. Otherwise, they would invite massed air attack, or even a Torpedo strike. And befall the same fate as the group RavenSnow was wiping out.

Not that directly attacking our Landing Zones would not get such a reaction. But perhaps their view was that with enough troops, they could keep our assets fully engaged while the bulk of their forces could escape to the South.

It was a wasteful policy, but it had some merit. A bloody-minded enemy commander could try to throw enough targets at us, in enough numbers, to get us to expend the majority of our Torpedoes. But that would only limit part of our offensive assets.

It was true that, at the moment, Flight Ops only had one Ritual Plate Flight to throw at these forces. The rest of BlackSkyvian assets were already engaged and we had used quite a few of our limited stock of Torpedoes So perhaps there was something to that theory.

The overall picture of the urban combat was one of multiple spearheads of irregular forces trying to move in a roughly south-eastern direction. With the largest concentrations, those with significant anti-air assets, and those closest to our diminishing Landing Zones being the focus of our ire.

Right now, it seemed that our Landing Zones were used as less of a spearhead point for infantry operations than a temporary forward base to act as nucleus of supply, anti-air assets, and VTOL support. On the upside, it did shorten flight times while keeping our vulnerable airships further back. On the downside, it meant we still had ground assets that needed defending.

I was not sure I would agree that it was a worthwhile exchange.

But that was not my part of the battle.

My part was protecting the survivors of Spatha 2 from this Irregular column that might stumble into them. Though the more I saw them the more I wondered if they were a bit too organized and rebel might be a better term.

First, I had my Flight move to the North and go under heavy Veils.

Veiling at that level came with several costs. First, it required a lot of pilot concentration and skill to do well, and unless a pilot was specialized in high-level Veiling, it would fatigue her rather quickly. Second, it took up a lot of a Ritual Plate's power budget which meant less ability to do maneuverability or speed while also under Veil.

Third, it burned through more mana and arcane power. Which overall reduced the endurance of a Ritual Plate suit.

Timing was key. GreyDawn and Octavia split off, slowed, and descended while they took a new heading. Meanwhile, VioletBlood and myself rose up and vectored towards the column.

Our scrying intake built into a clearer picture. The Yeomen were above the Archers who were, in turn, overseeing the Crocodile Infantry Fighting Vehicles, Hathor dual-purpose guns, and their supporting infantry.

Their Ritual Plate formation was textbook. House Alecto provided rather good training. And whether these forces were directly trained by Alecto or by Vualia before turning their coats, they seemed to be using Alecton doctrine.

Or at least their export doctrine. That is how they taught a Minor House how to field Ritual Plate. How to make do without the funding, size, or institutional experience of having a dedicated Ritual Plate air corps. This was part of what made the Archer a popular model.

By Ritual Plate standards, it was cheap and simple to fly, and maintain. If a Minor House was fighting an enemy who was even smaller than them, then merely having any Ritual Plate would make a key difference in protecting their ground forces and ravaging enemy ground forces.

Even against a Great House like Luxon, the Archer would at least force the enemy to invest in air defense systems and make it so Luxon could not simply attack Vualia ground forces with impunity.

The Archer was also more effective when supported by a more capable suit like the Yeoman. Which was all Alecton export doctrine.

VioletBlood and myself angled in so we came from the North east. Minding our Veils, I pushed our speed up and kept an eye on the enemy formation watching for when they would detect us. Unless they were laughably inept, they would.

It was well known that House Alecto would sell to any House, provided said House was not a rival nor at war with them. And provided said House could pay and the sales would serve Alecton interests.

It was also known that Alecto would sell training, maintenance, support, spares, and consumables alongside their weapons systems. All things that were vital to have said weapon be more than a hangar queen that would be shown off at annual "victory" parades.

It was a bit less well known that they sold mundane components, manufacturing, and other areas of supply chain and sub-component and system support. The least well known was that Alecto also sold information.

We were outnumbered, but I was not worried. The key part was to not get bogged down. I checked to verify the positioning of my Flight. The closer we could get without being detected the smoother this would go.

All of the Diyu Great Houses were in the armaments export business to one level or another. And the information of who you sold what items to could be valuable in and of itself. Beyond sales orders, one could also inform a third party on all sorts of other factors.

House Alecto and House BlackSky had a very close alliance and exchange of military technology and arcana. House BlackSky's submarines, frigates, and seaborne logistics ships were either built in Alecton naval yards or domestically built with extensive Alecton help. Meanwhile House Alecto's smaller airship fleet and their Ritual Plate training and systems design came from House BlackSky. They also flew many of our models, especially higher end specialized ones, albeit a couple Marks behind the versions we used and with a few other modifications, mostly for navalizing.

Thus, we of House BlackSky knew exactly how Minor Houses were taught to use the Alecton RP suits they had bought and were trained on. Which was why seeing them in such a textbook formation was relieving.

More experienced fliers would know that formation was suboptimal when supporting ground troops in urban combat. Maneuverability was cut down when you had to move through streets and thus the ground columns could not be dispersed in the same manner.

There.

The Yeoman Flight was shifting position but it was a Flight of Archers that were moving to cross our vector.

The Yeoman, especially compared to the plain Archer, was a fairly elegant suit with sweeping lines, solid plating, and intricate gauntlets.

"Now Violet!" I transmitted as we both dropped Veils and pushed our Zephyr to max.

The four Archers that were ahead of us turned and tried to intersect.

The last time I was outnumbered in an air battle I was alone, functionally unarmed, and against peer-level suits.

VioletBlood hit the first Archer, using a short Falx burst to blow apart the enemy's wards while a second more precise orange bolts blasted through the armor. Her wingwoman got a couple shots off at VioletBlood.

Seeing that enemy getting target fixation, I took her out with a single carefully aimed Pilum strike as we blew past.

By conventional analysis our speed, and our direct strike, would be reckless, especially at a relatively low altitude of being only a bit higher than the irregular rebels.

If the enemy RP commander reacted to us and only us, she could still maneuver her forces and throw an entire squadron at the two of us. But that would leave the ground forces uncovered.

Here was the risk, would the commander adhere to her training? Training that doubtless warned her about how a multi-pronged attack with the intention of driving her forces out of position would aim to defeat them in detail. Would she throw everything she had at us? Or would she hold back in case there was a second wave?

Two Archers were still on our tail as we traced towards the Yeoman Flight.

They opened fire as red beams shot out. The Yeoman had good range on its projectors but this far out they lacked power. I was in the lead and jinxed and evaded, using the superior maneuverability of a Polyxo advanced suit.

Instead of trying to close into us head-to-head the enemy Flight leader was angling her forces around to try and get us in a crossing engagement. A reasonable tactic.

My wards lit up and I pulled out and began firing back. The Falx shots were little more than distractive ranging fire at this distance, but would not be for long.

I counted and... There! Three of the enemy Yeomen were firing at me.

"Go!"

Ever since our cadet days, VioletBlood edged me on straight-line speed. She went from being in my flank position behind me to racing ahead. This maneuver pushed her Zephyr and burned her power reserves.

She shifted and came in right towards the enemy Flight. It took them a moment to adjust from targeting me to targeting her.

That moment she used to close the range and open up with her Falx. And get precise targeting info that was fed back to me. That she wore a Gorgon rig helped, especially in the data sharing, but this was a maneuver that a standard scrying set could do.

When the wards of the Yeoman Flight started failing both Violet and myself each popped off a pair of Pilum shots.

Both of mine hit and one ravaged through a fallen ward. Arcane energy tuned to burn through the composite protection of an armored vehicle hit the relatively thin plate armor of Ritual Plate. That enemy pilot died quickly. The other had just rekindled her ward and managed to take most of the Pilum's energy before the rest bled through and nearly cooked her in her suit. She started dropping as her wings flailed. She might survive.

VioletBlood still had her Pilum set to anti-material instead of anti-armor mode. The slightly less-intense and broader-spread bolts blew through one of the unwarded Yeoman while the second blast just missed the last member of the Flight.

Or would have if the Yeoman pilot had not had gotten her wards back up. The bubble of defensive energy caught the burst evocation power and flash fried. Unlike my near-miss, VioletBlood's was still functional but the engravings and enchantments on that Yeoman were smoking. The formerly gloss bottle green armor was covered in scorches and smoke poured out of all the engravings as her wings jerked.

"Well done!" I told VioletBlood as she slowed a bit to allow me to catch up to her.

"I didn't kill them all," she complained.

Neither did I, but unlike my comrades I was not so bloodthirsty. "That's for the best, we need them agitated and weakened," I reassured. It was not like I would have minded if we had a clean sweep on that Yeoman Flight, but this was a fine consolation and I did not want my wingwoman to have self doubt.

The time for recriminations would come at the debriefing.

We did not slow down or even adjust our heading much. I wanted to give the impression of a strafing run where we would slash the enemy's air formation and the irregulars would want to get revenge.

That those two Archers were already following us was a good sign. Soon they were met by another Archer Flight and the remaining combat-worthy Yeoman.

I gave a vicious smile. We had a head start, but our speed was just enough that they might catch up. Maybe they thought we had just gotten damaged, maybe these pilots did not know the speed ratings of a Polyxo in ground support mode.

It was not my problem.

They were focused on catching us, doubtless they would try to use superior numbers to envelop, reduce our egress options, and pummel us at range. Unfortunately, they went past the point I had marked out.

A point that Octavia and GreyDawn were approaching under heavy Veil at a perpendicular vector. Calibrating their speed to be in the right location at the right time, they managed to get just into Pilum range and opened fire. Three Archers had been taken out before the enemy started to adjust their positioning to deal with threats in two directions.

The enemy was right to worry about a multi-pronged attack that would attempt to draw their forces out of position.

Unfortunately for them, VioletBlood and myself had flipped over and fired a brace of Falx bolts that blunted the enemy vanguard. Then we were among them. With their wards down, the leading enemy Flight was picked off by Octavia and Grey Dawn. Which left an ad-hoc middle flight that was out of position and the remains of the trailing Flight that had been harrowed by the initial ambush.

My main concern was our ammunition usage. While there was some exchange between a Ritual Plate's main fuel cells and the power for various weapons systems. The evocation projectors were most efficiently powered by arcane energies specifically made for them.

Once you ran empty on weapons and started, quite inefficiently, using power for propulsion, scrying, and warding a pilot would rapidly fund herself running on fumes. Not to mention that normal combat range meant that a pilot did not normally get any energy from her kills.

GreyDawn and Octavia were not being idle. Their suits were just Polydora multi-roles but GreyDawn was an experienced hand and Octavia showed great promise. Arcing about, they continued to cross the enemy force.

VioletBlood and I moved in to support the rest of my Flight. Now that the initial shock was over and we were still slightly outnumbered, I did not want my forces defeated in detail.

There was a reinforced Flight of Archers left. And it was a question if they would rally or shatter. They began to fire upon us, and someone managed to coordinate their fire.
I saw Octavia's wards go down. GreyDawn was about to move to cover her. But I was about to cross in front of them.

"Keep attacking!" I ordered as I pulled into a deep dive with a full acceleration. My wings pulled back as I intercepted the line of fire between the enemy and Octavia.

Red beams flared onto my wards as I added my Falx fire to GreyDawn's and VioletBlood's. I yelled as the fire burned through my Wards and I flicked away. Fortunately, Octavia had used the time to rekindle her own defensive systems and maneuver.

The two remaining enemy Archers broke away and dove down to the street level.

"GreyDawn, Octavia, run escort. Evadne get moving!" I ordered on the combined channel of both my flight and the survivors of the Spatha crash. "Everyone hydrate if you can," I added.

"We're already getting into the truck, and we cut the gate!" the Librarian said.

"Understood. We've taken out the enemy air cover and will escort you while diverting their ground forces."

"You did?" Evadne asked while I could hear the Spatha Pilot murmuring.

"We can talk about that after we're all safe on an airship." Then I switched to just GreyDawn. "Get them closer to our lines, if you find a good spot for them to hole up, do it. If you think you can punch through or manage to convince Flight Ops they're close enough for extraction, do that."

"Understood." GreyDawn paused. "You're not going to get too ambitious are you, Primus?"

I laughed. "GreyDawn, this was a team effort. I just wanted to clear the enemy and keep them distracted. We had to strip off most of their air support, simple as that."

"As you say," she noted.

"Status of you and your wingwoman?" I asked.

She told me. We were all about one-third left on munitions and half on overall power.

"Watch your ammo load-out. Use your Verutum launcher if you have to. But if you can get them out quietly I'd appreciate that." The Verutum used a physical projectile, and thus a low magazine, and had a shorter range, but in the right role could be useful.

"Uh, yes, Ma'am," she stated in a skeptical voice.

"I'm counting on you to keep Octavia on a leash; she's young and green."

"As you say," GreyDawn repeated in a similar tone. Why was it that everyone else was so aggressive?

"I'll try to get Flight Ops to relieve us or simply get some resupply out to us," I stated.

She confirmed that and flew off with Octavia to escort the survivors further south. Despite the fires and increasing chaos in the city, southern Ortov was not nearly as unstable as the northern parts.

My brief conversation with Flight Ops as VioletBlood and I got into position confirmed that much. Scouting Branch had telemetry that Luxon Ritual Plate and Scarab VTOLs were assaulting the northern extremities of the city.

I kept frustration out of my voice. The situation on the ground was deteriorating, and we simply did not have the troops to secure more than a small beachhead.

The enemy had realized that not protecting their ground troops with air assets would just get them destroyed, but was not quite able to commit to having all their Ritual Plate deployed. The hesitation was understandable, as their pilots were facing both Houses BlackSky and Luxon, but it contributed to their shrinking ability to contest the airspace over the city.

If anything, my actions would help buy more time for an organized withdrawal. Especially if I could keep this reinforcement column of irregulars from advancing. We moved to the east, the enemy was not too far.

"You think Grey and Octavia can get them out?" VioletBlood asked on a private channel.

"If they get discovered, it'll turn into a running gun battle with a garbage truck ramming everything they don't blow up from the air. I'd prefer it if they could simply drive out of the city to someplace isolated and get quietly picked up." Quickly studying the map, I sighed.

Luxon was advancing fast. It made me wonder if they had propositioned assets ahead of things, or if the Vualia positions between the border and this city had been emptied out.

Worse...

"Hathor guns are powered up," I noted as we flew to the enemy column.

"Confirm," VioletBlood stated.

"Well, they've only got two and-" I frowned. "Where is their Ritual Plate? There should be a Flight of Archers there."

"South of us," VioletBlood pointed out as I studied my map display.

"What are they thinking?" I pondered. Okay, being in the leading edge was not a terrible place if one had limited air support and was going into combat. But Ritual Plate had a speed advantage so one wanted to put it in a place that had the best ability to respond to an enemy attack.

"Maybe they're not thinking?" VioletBlood asked.

"Eh?" I absently inquired as I marked points on the map, the enemy's ground forces was consolidating back into one column. They had gotten enough Crocodiles and purloined civilian vehicles to have all their troops mounted.

It was not quite as good of a choke point as crossing a bridge or a viaduct, but with apartment blocks overlooking a river to one side and a large business complex on the other the north-south roads in this part of the city had thinned out.

"Maybe they saw almost all of their friends and their elite protectors die, and now they're scared and alone."

"Huh, good point Violet. I had been neglecting the psychological angle." I made some more adjustments.

At the front of the column was a quartet of Crocodiles followed by another group of Crocodile IFVs, a few softer vehicles, and then a pair of Hathors. The other two Hathors were towards the end of the column with a cluster of guarding Crocodiles.

I confirmed VioletBlood's status. We have enough but the margin would be slim.

"Focus on the aft end when I start firing, Hathors then this group of Crocodiles," I explained.

VioletBlood paused then gave a chuckle. "Confirm."

I would take out the leading elements.

Normally one would hit the enemy Ritual Plate first, but with how much they had been pushed, and their lack of reinforcement, and their vanguard position, I wanted to do a ground attack run first.

That would force the hand of that Archer Flight.

I waited until the leading elements of the enemy column were nearly at the intersection that would allow them to spread out from one north-south route.

There was a lot to criticize, pushing ahead without enough air support, a lack of scouting elements, poor positioning, bunching up, but there was only so much one could do in urban combat. And for irregulars without much coordination, they were trying.

And the Hathors were on the ball. Though that might have been that my power reserves were low enough that I was not Veiling too intensely. Their fire did allow me to fix onto their positions as I went to full evasion.

After two Pilum bolts blew up those vehicles, I quickly hit the Crocodiles at the very front of the column. One had tried to reverse and turn, maybe out of fear of some ambush in the intersection.

Either way, that maneuver had it crash into the vehicle behind it. As both were fairly-armored boxes with wedge fronts and flattened turrets, the damage was negligible, until I blew up one of the Crocodiles. That cooked off the other and with a second shot to the one at the front I managed to kill three vehicles and block the front of the column rather well.

In time they could push past it, but for now it would work.

VioletBlood, who had switched her Pilum setting had taken out her Hathors, and then went forward to take out a trio of Crocodiles about two-thirds of the way back in the column.

The choke point where they had to go through one road was not long enough to get all of them, so I had us bottle as much of the forces as we could on that single road and then leave the remainder stuck on the north side.

"Strafe, strafe!" I ordered as we flew over that roadway right towards each other.

The Archers were caught wrong-footed and tried to follow me as I fired Falx bolts into the infantry. Many of them were protected enough by the Crocodiles, but those that were in the commandeered civilian vehicles did not do so well.

I got a transmission from GreyDawn that she and Octavia had escorted the survivors over halfway out of the city with only mild resistance.

The enemy Ritual Plate were angry and moved at full dash, right into VioletBlood. She took out two, and while her wards recovered I turned to fire at a third. Below us the rebel, or irregular, infantry scattered. They fled to the apartment and business buildings on either side of the roadway as the Crocodiles moved to cover them.

Such dug-in infantry would be a pain to deal with from the air. Especially if they could disperse and wait in ambush with some good man portable anti-air assets. It was also a tactically acceptable way to flee the battlefield and lay low. It was not like I had the equipment to level whole city blocks at the moment. But the enemy there meant they would not be advancing to the south.

Things were going well and I was signaling VioletBlood that it was time for us to leave. And that was when a damn wizard came out from under her Veil and with a blare of energy a brilliant white beam shattered my Wards and made my Zephyr wail in pain as I suddenly lost altitude.


End Chapter 8

As I warned, I did end up splitting this chapter. Upside, this means the next chapter with rest of this battle, and the aftermath and homecoming is going along nicely. The main battle part is nearly done and now I have more space do devote to the aftermath and Tauria's welcome home when she gets back.

Updated with corrections. Thanks to Preier and RogueInquisitor for their commentary and critiques.

Update2: Chapters 5-8 have been gone through and given a similar correction and reread and edit as the first 4 chapters.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.
http://www.fukufics.com/fic/

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 9: And Kill Them Part 2


Some distance away and above, VioletBlood's Falx went off. The enemy caster fired up at her but the blast went wide. It was certainly a narrower white beam.

Tumbling, I coaxed my Zephyr. The spirits were hurt, angry, and confused. It was hard not to share in their sensations. My ears burned a bit as much of the arcane energy in my capacitors was dumped into my suit. Bearing all that, I tried to control my fall and extend my senses out and down.

The various displays in front of me flickered and many of the status runes were still blinking from red to amber. The most vital: power, communication, maneuvering, and environmental were at least green, mostly. However navigation, wards, and especially weapons were still in the amber.

It was fortunate that the BlackSkyvian Ritual Plate was robustly built. That solid design philosophy came at the cost of many pilots who were in weaker earlier iterations. Modern RP enchantments were made with redundancies and resistance to arcane assaults. Mine more than most.

I would have to thank my duchess for purchasing the Gamma Block power systems for my Polyxo. The Gamma Block used stronger and more robust enchantments for the power systems than the standard model. It was more expensive to manufacture and maintain and was not quite into full production.

It had also saved my life.

This Wizard knew her stuff, she put in enough power to shatter a BlackSkyvian Ritual Plate's wards and burn out their systems. It was my luck that her knowledge was a bit out of date and I was equipped with the latest and most reinforced mana and power distribution systems.

In the immediate aftermath, the systems went about protecting the pained air spirits within my Ritual Plate. Without my Zephyr, this suit would be nothing but a lot of deadweight, too much for unpowered flight.

The suit did have an emergency release.

That was not an option I relished having to use.

I ended up with my head pointed down as I scanned the street. And then gunfire started to arch up to me. Breathing, I started working on my wards. Small arms fire from battle rifles, even with arcane or alchemically enhanced ammunition was not too much of a risk with my physical armor, at least at this altitude.

For now.

Then I spotted a few of the surviving Crocodiles were raising their turrets. They were armed with a rather robust anti-material light vehicle gun. One that, unusually for Luxon, fired a physical projectile. The Crocodile was originally designed to be a cheap, easy to maintain, long-serving infantry mover.

This was also an easy way to tell that this was older surplus, likely pre-invasion. The last couple generations of Crocodiles, the ones in current Luxon service, used an arcane projector that while higher maintenance, and required dedicated power systems, did have more range and fire options. It was also modular in design to allow for quick field replacement of barrel projectors, accumulators, and other life-limited systems. Basically, the main wear-out parts were in a single field swappable module with the longer-lifed parts being Amory level replacement. In a way, it was similar to how Ritual Plate weapons systems were replicable components.

Still, those guns would be more than enough to cut through me, especially with my wards down.

Leveraging my Zephyr's fear and anger, I slipped to the side and started to go into a faster descent as I started to maneuver. My status runes still had too many amber lights.

"Got them!" VioletBlood said as she launched a pair of Pilums to blow up the offending vehicles.

"Watch for that wizard and enemy air power!" I cried as I searched the surface. A high level caster was a very useful asset. More than a Grenadier, a Magnus Engineer, Ritualista, artificer ,or even a Ritual Plate Pilot, a wizard was a high-potency generalist in arcane skills.

That put them on the rare end of magical talents. Up there with those who could do personal teleport magic. Which was something some wizards could do as well. They were often useful in research, precision, specialist enchanting, artificer design work, or possibly ship-board duties monitoring and maintaining advanced systems such as various teleportation runes or gateways.

Rarer still were those Practitioners who had the flexibility, speed, and power for combat evocation. In ground combat, they could be a real nightmare with a command of arcane energy manipulation or elemental powers. There was a broad range of abilities. Some were one-person artillery batteries or direct fire breakthrough units. Others could even use Ritual Plate. Fortunately, if this wizard could do that, she was not wearing hers.

I grit my teeth and, with a press of will, rekindled my wards and practically forced that status light to change. I was starting to get to an altitude where small arms were actually a danger to me.

I dumped the last of my earring's powers, the relics gifted to me by my mother Sister Clementia into my weapons systems. Pilum, Falx and Verutum all flicked over. Though the projectors of the first two were woefully low in reserve munition capacity.

Still, I had enough, as I started raking the irregular infantry with Falx fire. Most of them had done the sensible thing and had abandoned the soft vehicles and tried to pull into the civilian buildings to either side of the street. But there were enough firing up at me to make good targets.

Having to conserve my shots, I aimed at those who I could see and guarantee a hit, even if it merely wounded or incapacitated. In some situations that was enough, the cold calculus of war had wounded more valuable than dead. A dead enemy was just that, dead. But a wounded soldier was a burden for her comrades. Resources would be expended on the wounded.

In DarkStar's name, the whole reason I was in this particular mess was because when Spatha 2 went down there had been survivors. On the other wing, long term wounded would and could be brought back to fighting trim, especially with our healing abilities...

Killing or mangling, the difference was academic to me. But between the Crocodiles VioletBlood had just blown up, the attempts to get survivors out, and those trying to change position there were plenty of wailing, badly hurt people on the street; some had their wings and tails thrashing with their limbs, making them even bigger targets, while others tried to hide behind whatever rubble there was.

"Be ready for counter-fire!" I ordered VioletBlood. She seemed a bit distracted.

"Right! Didn't expect someone like her in a place like this!"

I had to agree with her; it was ominous that a combat caster was part of this column.

A white beam lanced up towards me as I spiraled out of the way. Someone in the dark bodysuit, fatigues, boots, and helmet of the other irregulars had raised some long weapon and fired at me.

It could be considered staff-like. It was long and the bulk of it was made of wire-inlaid wood. Though the ergonomics were more of a wood-stocked rifle, one with a full length fore-stock. Instead of a barrel, there was a series of interlocked accumulators and other bits of crystalline and engraved metal enchantments.

While I tried to evade, VioletBlood tracked her and sent a burst of Falx at her. But this time there was no flare of power in the wizard's attack. Instead what passed me felt like a glorified light show.

"Illusion!" I cried as the Falx bolts just hit an empty street. In fact, the whole street was now empty save for the vehicles and the dead. Even the wounded were hidden.

"I'm not piercing it either," VioletBlood confirmed.

I swore. Part of me hoped that my scrying systems were, despite their status, still down. Someone this skilled with illusion magic was worrying. I twisted and darted to the side towards the apartment buildings and the river. It was the quickest way to gain distance, but there was a risk as my scrying sensors were unreliable.

"Pulse active!" I ordered.

We both emitted an active signal from our scrying systems, but that failed to pierce the Veil. Lovely, this was a pro.

"No effect," VioletBlood confirmed. That was not technically true; some of the other data beyond this immediate battle got a bit clearer. That was part of the advantage of the scrying feeds over multiple squadrons forming a composite tactical map

However those advantages fell by the wayside against someone with great skill in Veiling.

Fortunately, we had countermeasures. I selected my Verutum launcher, concentrated, empowered, and fired a trio of anti-Veil rounds. The Verutum was an oddity for Ritual Plate weapons systems. It fired projectiles, commonly called "pebbles" by Pilots, Ritualista and Legionaries.

Its range was not the best and the munition capacity was rather low, but it held the advantage that when you needed to deliver a magical effect more complicated than simply a mass of destructive energy, then having a physical vessel to deliver said effect was vital.

The "pebbles" shot out of my gauntlet and hit the road in a rough line with crackling purple lighting as the energy within them discharged per the engraved runes on their surfaces. The energy quickly grounded and in doing so pulled away and dispersed the illusion in the bulk of the street.

Wounded soldiers reappeared, as well as those who were trying to evacuate them. Amongst them was a taller woman who had her hands out and looked like she was simultaneously marionetting a puppet show and conducting a symphony.

Quick on the draw, VioletBlood dropped a Pilum bolt onto her but the purple energy discharged against a shimmering ward that appeared over the wizard. Another met the same fate as the enemy caster lifted her sidearm.

It had a pistol-like from-factor That honestly reminded me of a more baroque version of some of the older side arms in Imperial service in my previous life, except with a solid crystalline barrel. But it was a functional way to have a "wand" one could aim and further accumulators and enchantments could be kept in the grip.

"Stop wasting fire! Evade!" I screamed at VioletBlood as I switched to a thaumaturgical paired rounds on my Verutum magazine.

The brilliant white beam came up as I fired. As VioletBlood spun off, the pebble made contact with the wizard's protective ward. Retaining the pebble's twin, I cast fire into it. The launched pebble was caught.

Fire from the ground forces came up at me but it was desultory, they were more focused on finishing moving their wounded.

Part of me hoped the Wizard might have tuned her shield to only block high energy attacks or high velocity projectiles, but that was a slim hope. Still, the pebble burst into flames and as I concentrated the whole dome was awash in arcane fire.

A bit of sweat came down my brow, neck, and back as the feedback and waste heat from my pyromancy caused my suit's systems to try to cool me.

The wizard's white beam cut out as the silver-orange flames formed a dome around her. If I was lucky her warding had little thermal insulation. Still her vision was impaired.

She flicked her wand and the ward dropped before either of us could fire. Another ward appeared outside of the flames and the inner one reignited, and then the two wards squeezed and my fires went out in a suffocating lack of oxygen.

Growling, I fired off the now useless pebble.

"Violet, keep on her with Anti-Veiling Pebbles!' I ordered.

As she began to run, the wizard's form blurred and the street started to shift. For a moment flying figures and anti air installations popped up. But the fantastical elements were a distraction from how enemy soldiers started to lean out of doorways with man-portable launchers.

But then, in a profligate expenditure I was going to take her to task for later, VioletBlood strafed them with her Falx while simultaneously saturating the area with counter-veil shots. Though I suppose she was far enough out that her accuracy was a bit low as one pebble hit an apartment building and another landed in an office park.

A couple of the troops did manage to launch their Alecton manufactured missiles, but I was able to intercept those and then suppressed the infantry with more fire. I was loath to use too much for fear of not being able to support the Spatha 2 survivors later. But we would have to survive this fight first.

The wizard was exposed, still with her warding up.

Feeling my Zephyr's continued ire, I snarled and shot towards the wizard on a strafing run. If she knew how low on munition power and overall power I was, she might just soak the damage.

I briefly thought I should get an award for restraint in that I simply did not try to level the nearby buildings to bury her. That I was already too low on my munitions to practically do that, and it was likely the wizard could simply evade such an attack, were mitigating factors.

Instead, I had to try a tactic that was only remotely feasible because we were, in aerial terms, at knife-fighting range, my enemy was grounded, and her attacking beam was relatively wide. And even then was a desperation maneuver. Still, it was better than having to throw a sword at her.

Even at this range, I saw the bright smile on her copper-colored face as she flicked her wand. The feed from my Gorgon Rig clarified and I could see the dark red gems adorning her ears, neck, and brow. Some of them were the size of my Preserver award. And those were just the arcane capacitors that were obvious.

I fired my Verutum before she did. The pebble arced across the sky, but it was slower than the heavy white beam.

I just barely managed to get the second shot off as I had my air spirits cut all lift and dropped. The second pebble intersected with the wide beam.

The twin that was carved from the same piece of obsidian and engraved by the same hands was only a dozen or so feet from the wizard.

A fraction of the beam's energy hit the second pebble, and a fraction of that power was transmitted to its twin. The rest went into blowing up the little projectile.

Meanwhile, the remaining pebble released all the energy that it had received. However instead of a coherent beam, it released it in a blinding, discordant blast of blinding white energy.

The wizard's shielding wards blew apart as she cried in pain and surprise.

As I plummeted, I had hoped for secondary detonations. But the distance was too far. I had to take the consolation of raking a quick burst of Falx through her torso. This time there were secondary explosions from the arcane storage crystals she carried.

I gave a satisfied smile, and then shot a counter-veil pebble just to be sure. And then gave a quick strafe of any enemy vehicles or troops that were still moving. Ascending back to a more comfortable altitude, I took stock. My power levels and munitions were getting dangerously low.

"Incoming air elements." VioletBlood sounded out of breath for some reason. I suppose she needed more endurance training.

"Those two Archers? What happened to them?" I kicked myself for target fixation. That was a sure way to get killed.

"They ran off and got backup."

I paused. My mouth felt dry. I sipped some water and with minor reluctance activated the broth system. I was hungry and while it was not exactly tasty it was energy rich and nutritious. "I see."

The whole point of thaumaturgical comms was that one did not need to send runners, or fly off in this case, to get backup. Unless the Irregulars were so disorganized or so paranoid...

I wondered whose comms systems they were using? If they were Alecton in origin, maybe they were right to be paranoid. This might explain some of their lack of coordination.

VioletBlood had pointed out a heavy squadron of Archers or maybe two light squadrons, supported by a full squadron of Yeomen. Call it thirty enemy Ritual Plate. Their tracks put them moving from the North in two formations that were crossing our paths.

The sensible thing would be for them to maneuver to an area away from both us and Luxon to provide some cover for their ground forces until they could get out of the city and scatter, or meet with other elements.

Though without reinforcements to join up with, their options were limited.

But that was in their future. Right now we were in their way and they would be none-to happy with the damage VioletBlood and I had done.

"Get altitude," I ordered VioletBlood after I sipped some broth. It took the edge off my hunger and fatigue. "We've still got distance."

I then started transmitting. "Flight Ops. We blunted an enemy advance that would have crossed the survivors of Spatha 2, but there are Ritual Plate reinforcements," I said then read off the details.

"Can you link us your scrying data?"

"Confirm," I said and linked it in. I knew they did not doubt me, but every bit would help.

"Diamond Flight support is on the way," Flight Ops said with confidence.

++++++

With VioletBlood on my wing, I blinked as Flight Ops updated me. It seemed more resources were freeing up. Were the Irregulars being squeezed enough to break?

Then a new voice came on the comm channel.

"Sorry for the delay but we've just managed to break their air support and get our people out; we're being vectored to you," Prefect Centurion Quirinus said.

I was a bit cheered by my Squadron commander's words, but scanning the map display I saw she was down a pair of pilots. Given my Flight was a third of her force, this meant Quirinus was only bringing half a dozen Ritual Plate.

Better than nothing, but not great

Then I heard the Torpedo alert chime. This time instead of another ground target blowing up I got a more vehement alert as a cone on my map display was shaded the lurid puce of a no fly zone.

A pair of Torpedoes raced in. Too fast to make out, these Fujiwara Torpedoes used a supersonic motor, which had an even faster terminal phase. They were the Skofnung variant, each of which carried twenty Vel missiles, specifically the air-to-air variant.

The Torpedoes released their missiles far enough out to get proper dispersal, but not too far to give the enemy Ritual Plate too much time to maneuver.

Forty missiles filled the sky. They cut through the enemy formation. And while the Vel only had about a six-pound warhead and a limited range and velocity, they had all been given a speed boost and updated guidance and telemetry from the Notus spirits guiding the Torpedoes.

Not all of the enemy were hit, some managed to evade or counterforce. The Yeomen fared better than the Archers in this. Some of the Vel Missiles were split into pairs with the first one shattering the enemy's wards and the second missile blasting through their armor.

The Vel was designed with a two-stage stage warhead with the intention to pierce wards and then hit the target. The missile did not always have the power to do that, especially if the target was being evasive. Two missiles were assigned per Ritual Plate for some of the enemy fliers. This gave a measure of redundancy.

Other missiles, especially those targeting the Archers were only given one per Ritual Plate. Most managed to take out their wards and then cause critical damage with the second stage of their warhead.

Then Quirinus', no longer significantly outnumbered, demi-Squadron cut through the survivors. The majority of which had lost their warding and all of whom were rattled by the sudden attack.

On the one wing, I was happy to see the enemy disposed of and I was not prideful or blood-mad enough to want to kill them myself. On the other, seeing Torpedo support in action was always a reminder of the other times when Fleet Ops decided it could not spare the expensive munitions.

I suppose this meant that the HFV Vajra had its Torpedoes reloaded.

Things were... complicated. The Janissaries now had a foothold in the northern part of the city, complete with Anupet squadrons, Luxon's multi-role Ritual Plate model. There were also sightings of some Anker golems.

The Anker was a large earth-spirit strengthened, vaguely leonine, walker that was roughly the size of a small tank. Fast for its size and sporting some powerful arcane projectors, it was a good assault and ambush unit and had its own anti-air protection.

However, they were expensive to field and maintain. But in urban combat they had a role, being capable of maneuvering in more confined areas. Especially if Luxon had air superiority.

Typically, an Anker would be supported by a three to five Bastet golems, plus the inevitable maintenance vehicles. Having the same roughly feline four-legged form, the Bastet was far smaller, not quite twice the weight of one of our Marius Mules but about the same size, and had an anti-material projector similar to a Pilum and a forward-mounted twin heavy machine guns.

For the weight, the Bastet was rather lightly armed, as the Luxon designers went with more armor and mobility. However, they could go places most other Luxon vehicles could not go and could be good support for Janissaries, especially sent in for assaults or operating as remote patrol vehicles or fire support.

That Luxon was bringing in what could be considered specialist equipment for urban occupation was not unexpected but was ominous.

And with our forces holding onto our beachhead and our own squadrons up in the air, the irregulars were running out of airspace.

No wonder Flight Ops was having limited VTOL availability. Doubtless some of the Task Force's Umbra mediums had been detached to moving torpedo reloads from the cargo ships to the Destroyer HFV Vajra. Each Umbra could move four Fujiwara Aerial Torpedoes.

"What about the rest of my Flight and the survivors from Spatha 2?" I asked Quirinus over the command channel.

"They got to the retrieval point and we'll be securing the landing area for the pickup," my squadron commander said before giving me a new vector.

Informing VioletBlood, and then moving to follow her, I exhaled. "Good, I sent them out while we blunted that irregular column."

"I see. Any problems?" Quirinus wryly asked.

"Not many. It was the standard mix of old Luxon surplus for ground equipment and Alecton Ritual Plate. The wizard took a bit to take care of," I then added, before switching to my Flight's channel. "GreyDawn, status? How did you and Octavia do?"

"Nominal, Ma'am," the older pilot paused. "Down to the last quarter on munitions. Had to break through a couple improvised blockades and scatter a couple mobs. They managed to keep the big truck running though the whole thing. We're doing a patrol while the truck was put down by an abandoned logging camp. We've been using passive on our scrying."

The truck would still show up on thermals but that far out so would most approaching troops. Unless they were using higher Veils. "Excellent, the squadron is coming to you."

"Ma'am? Flight Ops said we might have to wait a bit."

"Updated orders," Quirinus cut in. "Hopefully we'll be wrapping things up here."

"Understood, we'll keep you directly up to date with our scrying input," GreyDawn sounded a bit relieved, which was good.

Quirinus went to a private channel. "You split your forces."

"One pair could run escort while the other pair slowed the enemy."

"You did what you could with the limited assets," Quirinus stated. I could hear the approval, tension, and weariness in her voice.

Which... was fair. So far, my flight had no casualties, but Quirinus had lost two of the pilots under her command. I didn't even know if they were injured or dead. If the former I hoped they were able to get back to an airship, a Landing zone, or at least an easy place for a Search and Rescue VTOL to get them.

And that we would not have to deal with another Spatha going down.

"We're pulling out?" I asked her.

Quirinus paused. "Likely. We don't have the Legionaries or enough Torpedoes. If Luxon decides to occupy Ortov, we'll be here at their sufferance."

"And there's no advantage to us maintaining a force here." I said with some hidden relief. House Vualia and House Luxon were... well, not exactly fighting. But Luxon was still an expansionist power that was taking over a Vualian city.

"We were here to support the ceasefire negotiations."

"And Task Force 403?" I asked. That was our sister formation and was even larger given they had a cruiser, a medium carrier, a Torpedo bomber tender, a squadron of Kolibri torpedo corvettes and patrol carriers, scouting assets, fleet train, and a Long-Range Insertion troopship that could land an entire infantry cohort.

"They were dealing with a rebel formation to the west of us. One that was more organized." She gave a harsh chuckle. "Not organized enough. They were also closer to the shoreline and Alecto had a naval squadron in the area."

"Ah..." That confirmed some of what I supposed. "It was a coup then?"

"Queen Vualia is most upset with one of her daughters."

I sipped some water. That was how it went. Even the Great Houses on Diyu were eponymously ruled by Elder demonesses. A brutal survivor bias had ensured that the Houses that remained were ones capable of surviving.

Patronage and nepotism were a rule. Even House BlackSky with its meritocracy and social advancement had the imperial Family. I was a prime example of how an orphan could, through her own efforts and a bit of patronage, climb to the upper ranks of nobility.

The problem came if a daughter of the Imperatrix, First Citizen, High Lady, Dictatrix, Queen, or whatever the ruler was called wanted... more. Most would go on to attempt to create their own House.

Such as First Citizen RedStorm splitting from Imperatrix BlackSky, or Dictatrix Ziox from Grand Admiral Trosier. Others... would simply try to take out their mother.

"That's why these 'irregulars' have a mix of Luxon and Alecto equipment?" I asked before reminding VioletBlood to keep mixing up her formation. Formation flying was good to ensure proper coverage and mutual support, but our relative positions had to be fluid, if they got too static and fixed then we became that much easier to target.

Quirinus gave a bitter laugh. "Oh it depends on how deniable their patrons were. And which daughter was the one who couldn't organize a revolution."

"Was it even just one?" I murmured. I could imagine the higher ups in Vualian society being unhappy. The Luxon occupation had been a massive drain on their resources. I checked the map and my scrying intake. So much had been wasted here.

And a Minor House could ill afford the loss of this much military hardware, economic capability, and demonic lives.

"My, someone's curious about the cultural and political implications," Quirinus teased. "Well, you are a very thorough one."

Shuddering, I nearly fell out of formation. I almost talked myself into volunteering for the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance. "Just learning a bit more."

"As you saw; we're nearly there." Quirinus paused. "I'm sure you're comfortable doing forward spotting."

"I'm not that low on munitions," I protested. I did not disagree with her. But I wanted to show I was gung ho for Frontline work, especially after my earlier slipup.

"Diamond," Quirinus's tone was warning.

'"Yes, Ma'am, understood." I then informed VioletBlood and took her to near the leading edge of our squadron's formation.

We were close enough that I could coordinate with GreyDawn and Octavia. "Okay ladies, stay sharp." I said over the Flight channel. "I know you've done a good mission and are eager to see the end of it and get back on the Garuda for a meal and some rack time, but that's when we make sloppy mistakes."

"Understood," GreyDawn said, sounding approving.

"Yes, Ma'am" Octavia echoed, her voice was a bit distant.

"Did either of you need any Pep?" I asked. The Legions had a variety of stay-awake compounds. They were more refined and had less risk than the pharmacology stimulants the Empire used, but they were still not something to use incautiously.

On the other hand, drowsy pilots were dead pilots.

"I took a low-dose when we passed the first barricade and had Octavia take one when the survivors made it to the lumber camp," GreyDawn said.

"Good. You both had something to eat?" I asked as VioletBlood and I added our scrying systems to the scouting patrol over the downed survivors. I noted that the rest of our squadron fell into a response formation in case the enemy came up and was positioning to help secure an air corridor and Landing Zone.

Octavia groaned, while GreyDawn said they both had some broth.

"I know it's not the best meal, but it's what our suits can make. It'll get some nutrition and energy in you, and cut the edges of those Pep doses. Right, VioletBlood?" I asked while checking on my Zephyr, they had a bit of a shake tonight but seemed to be back in fine form.

"Oh yeah, I drank mine. Didn't have any stims, seeing you get fried by that wizard got me wide awake."

"Wizard?" GreyDawn's tone seemed resigned.

"Fried?" Octavia was more awed.

"Never-mind, that enemy column had a spellslinger backing them up. I'll lay it out on the debriefing," I promised.

"Spatha Two survivors, this is Diamond Flight," I said, switching to Ventus Centurion Opal's channel.

"It's good to hear you, again," Opal said.

"Status?" I asked.

"Fine now. Karena's been hopping around trying to get our wounded settled and Evadne was helpful with her wards."

I wondered if she was making a comment about their medico's leg injury.

"It shouldn't be long now," I assured. If things got bad enough Quirinus had enough in her squadron to simply have half of us pick up half the survivors and fly to an airship while the other half ran escort.

Still, getting a Spatha would be the better option. It would free up Quirinus's whole squadron to run escort. The wounded would be more stable and Karena the medico could work on them. We just had to wait for a VTOL to become available.

"Diamond Flight, this is Spatha 1," a voice drawled over the command channel.

"This is Diamond; go Spatha 1," I said, with a bit of trepidation. This was one of Opal's fellow pilots from the HFV Syracuse. I wondered if she was upset with my performance. VTOL Pilots, Ventus Centurions, had a professional rivalry with RP Pilots, Volantes Centurions.

Ritual Plate were seen, by some in the public at large, as the more glamorous and elite. Where VTOLs were considered workhorses. We brought the fight to the enemy while the VTOLs moved all the troops, the cargo, the vehicles, and did all the real work. The Hasta Torpedo Bomber was another wrinkle in all that, as it was the only BlackSkyvian aircraft that was primarily an offensive platform.

The rivalry was professional, and no sharper than the service rivalry between the Household Fleet and the Imperial Legions. But still, when an RP Pilot went down, often as not it was a team on a Spatha Light that was sent in to pick her up. Under RP support of course.

"I just wanted to thank you for getting Opal and the others out," the voice said as I continued to check for enemy movement.

I blinked. The irregulars, or maybe rebels, were now moving to the south east, bypassing our Landing Zone but seemingly more worried about the Luxon Janissary brigade.

"You're welcome?" I tried to think. Humility seemed best. "I'm sorry that we couldn't get everyone. And all my Flight did was help move them, Opal and the others did all the work."

"Everyone who was alive when you arrived is alive now, you got them to me Diamond, and I just want to assure you that even though I'm taking them the last leg of the journey it was all your Flight."

I frowned, the dance of refusal of compliments was familiar to me and it could spiral out of control.

"That's nice and all but we have work tonight, ladies," Quirinus' voice cut in. "Spatha 1, I'm coordinating with your escort Flights. You are clear for Landing Zone Five."

I'll admit my stomach clenched as we kept a vigil over the little VTOL when it landed by the lumber camp and took on the survivors. That worry did not pass when the Spatha was once again in the air.

I know my concerns were absurd but... I was worried.

I was worried that if this Spatha were shot down then my Flight would once again be ordered for the rescue mission.

But that was absurd; we were too low on munitions and power.

My relief was irrational but still there when I saw Spatha 1 slip through the open landing doors on the aft centerline of the HVF Garuda. The pilot was good. Flying directly behind an airship, dealing with all those wake vortices and turbulence. Coming between the ventral tail fins with enough relative velocity difference and relative position control to slip through the yawing aft doors without pushing through the crash barriers was a skillful act.

Even on a calm night like tonight.

Ventus Centurions may not have the speed or the high performance but they were still precision fliers, despite far heavier air frames that needed to work with Zephyr who were in propulsion pods yards away from them instead of hanging around their wings.

Spatha One was sent to the Garuda for a simple reason: it was the largest vessel in our little Task Force, twice the size of any other, and thus had the most expansive medical facilities.

"Diamond Flight, you're first back on the ship," Quirinus ordered.

"Understood," I would have protested, if only to show my keenness, but our power levels were getting to the zone in which it would be imprudent to not swap out our fuel cells.

I switched to the Flight Ops channel and went specifically to my assigned ship. "Garuda Flight Control, this is Diamond Flight."

"Go Diamond Flight," came the calm, almost reassuring, voice of a Fleet Flight Controller. One wanted a steady voice when you were a pilot, of either type, trying to land onto an airship that was floating in the sky.

"Requesting landing for four Ritual Plate."

"Confirm Diamond Flight." the voice paused. "You are clear for starboard Ritual Plate landing approach."

Based on the Virtus Medium twin-hulled design, the Garuda was a Phoenician class Long Range Insertion Troopship. Like others of its hull design, the class had several access points for landing and launching.

In the bow were two catapults for launching Ritual Plate Pilots. In the very aft of the embarkation deck that linked both lifting hulls, was a centerline landing bay for VTOLs. A bit forward amidships, on the port and starboard were inclined launch bays for VTOLs to exit under their own power. There was a massive ventral opening in the embarkation deck that worked as a big open well deck large enough to accommodate Heavy VTOLs or a Venture Scout airship.

And forward of that were a pair of flared tunnels that worked as landing ramps for Ritual Plate Pilots.

A pilot could slow down and match the airship's speed and go into an open hatch and land on the deck. And functionally that's what the landing ramps were. They were simply more convenient and skirted the forward sides of the embarkation deck.

The landing ramps gave enough length that a pilot could slow down to match velocity without having to do a crash deceleration, and if she failed to stop then the far end of the tunnel was open so the pilot could continue flying and come around again.

Though such misses were rare, save in rough weather or other extreme conditions. They also worked as another way to deploy pilots. Yet without the initial speed a catapult imparted, they were very much a supplemental or backup procedure.

But unlike the launch tunnels with their catapults, the landing ramps had little weight cost.

Making contact with the squadrons doing combat air patrol on our little Task Force, I had my Flight form up to the starboard of the Garuda.

"Diamond Four, you are clear to land," Flight Control said as the lights to the landing tunnel flashed green. One of the main roles of Flight Control was to make sure various takeoffs and landings did not cause collisions. Ostensibly, the approach angles were made to provide clearance, but caution was prudent especially with various VTOLs and Ritual Plates in the air.

In some ways Garuda's Flight Control had a simpler task. It carried a third of the Ritual Plate of a Mellona Medium carrier, at two Squadrons instead of six. However it had to deal with carrying four Umbra Mediums.

Octavia angled her vector and flew towards the double-hulled airship, came in on an oblique angle and, already decelerating, went through the wider opening flare of the landing tunnel. The landing lights went amber as she entered and came to a stop.

Once she was clear and out of the tunnel, Flight Control called in GreyDawn to repeat the process and again with VioletBlood.

Finally, it was my turn. The data from Flight Control overlaid my display and I could see a slightly angled cone expanding out of the mouth of the landing tunnel. There were also velocity notations.

I adjusted my position and vector to match the centerline of the navigation cone. The landing aides were not required, a pilot was expected to be able to land without them but that was for emergencies.

Landing went much faster, and with far greater safety, with the route marked out. The Garuda rapidly went from a large airship ahead of me and to the right, to something that dominated my vision in front of me, to just a big dark wall that loomed up out of the night sky and which was about the same color thanks to the airship's camouflage.

Instead of focusing on the big curved wall that dominated my peripheral vision, I put my attention on the navigation display and a grid of lights. The middle vertical and horizontal row were orange and stayed lit.

A three by three box of blue lights was somewhere on the light grid. Where that blue square was indicated where a pilot was relative to her landing trajectory. The ideal was to get the blue box centered where the orange lines crossed.

The borders of the grid could also change color: red was wave-off, purple was too fast, green was correct speed, and yellow was too slow.

The system had its faults, but worked as a supplement and backup in case the navigation uplink failed. And when one was in a suit of flight armor and flying into an airship making sure one did not hit the side of said airship was very prudent.

I made sure to keep the blue square centered and the border in the green. That required a steady reduction in velocity. Though I was still going at a reasonable clip when I was swallowed by the sides of the tunnel.

From my perceptive, the landing tunnel quickly became narrower as the sides came in, the floor rose up, and the ceiling came down. My concentration was on staying in the center of the tunnel as I had my Zephyr flare to reduce my speed.

The floor, walls, and ceiling of the tunnel were painted in black bands repeating every seven feet or so. Though after a point, they changed color from black to red. If they got to red and the pilot had not stopped yet, that was a sign for her to up her speed and fly out the tunnel to try again.

My relative speed went to zero well in the black bands and my boots fell onto the deck with a clunk. I exhaled and tried to get my balance. For a moment it still felt like I was flying.

One of the flight officers came out from a door in the side alcove and offered an arm. Without much pride I took her hand. It was better to get out of the tunnel as quickly as possible, to keep it clear and ready.

After a moment, I would regain my airship legs.

My stride became more sure after a few paces, which meant I could walk on my own feet and not have to have my hand held by the much taller officer. I went through a hatch and down a corridor. The rest of my Flight was not far ahead of me. They too walked with the oddly floating, but ponderous, movements that came with a grounded Ritual Plate suit.

Soon, we were in the maintenance bay, and I heavily sat down in my arming chair. Connections and probes were clipped and plugged into my armor as my Ritualista swarmed over me. I lifted my facemask and nodded to my maintenance chief.

"Been a long night," Optio Gibbs noted as she scrolled through the glass diagnostic display she held.

I sighed. I had just gotten off a routine patrol flight before we had been given the order to support landing operations.

"Might not be over. I want my Flight refueled and rearmed. Do what maintenance you need to but I expect to be on Ready Standby."

"Yes, Ma'am," she nodded as one of her team undid the side latches to my helmet while another disconnected my Gorgon Rig. The disabled helmet was then pulled off.

I rolled my neck and breathed the metal and incense-tinged air of the maintenance bay. The burners to all the censers were flameless which mitigated the fire hazard. They were also bolted in place and kept clear of the various welding equipment, cutting torches, fuel cells, munitions, inflammable bottles, and even caustic chemicals for etching work. And given the ritual in Ritual Plate and that spirits of air were the critical component such offerings had their place.

The Ritual Plate maintenance bay had some major fire suppression tools and training. On par with the VTOL hangar, the main power plants, the Teleport Rune navigation and energizing chamber, it was one of the more at risk areas of fire on an airship.

I looked over and saw VioletBlood had managed to get a large sausage and a sourdough bun and was chewing thoughtfully.

I was about to ask where she got that when a slight figure, made somewhat more imposing by her armor, stepped over to me. Primus Wencesla was several times my age but was only slightly taller than I was.

She was carrying a metal basket, well more of a bucket, that was full of steaming loaves of bread and cool dry sausages. I noted Octavia was already slowly eating while GreyDawn was miming their earlier actions, using a bun and a sausage to mock dogfight and say disparaging things about the enemy. Octavia laughed.

Good, I would have given Wencesla a private word if she had fed me and Violet first and not the rest of my Flight. Nobility were not supposed to get favoritism in the Imperial Legion, at least not obviously.

I thanked her and took the food while one of my Ritualista gave me a canteen. "I heard you and the rest of RavenSnow's girls had a night," I asked after tearing into the bun. Oh there was a bit of melted butter inside and some honey drizzled on top. Behold civilization.

She nodded. "Busy, yeah. Casualties were.. well, are they ever light? Bekka was recovered, her suit will need a bunch of time to recover." Bekka SableTail was her wingwoman.

"I kept mine together," I said a bit quietly. I did not want to brag. I knew that the rest of my squadron had taken two casualties. I was not sure if they were wounded or dead. The truth was that a Flight, even a Squadron, was a small enough unit that every loss was acutely felt.

"Don't you get survivor guilt on me, Countess," Wencesla's tone was mocking, but her tail was loosely swishing and she seemed to be being comradely .

"I'm not," I guzzled down some water. I could not tell her that I had written plenty of condolence letters to the families of troops under my command. It was a part of war. That was what war did, it spent lives. Though the 203rd and Salamander had an impressively low casualty rate.

Wencesla tilted her head, her green eyes seeming to look through me. "Huh. Anyway… From what I heard you got Spatha 2's survivors out while the rest of us were dealing with the shitshow, even blunted an enemy column."

"You heard a lot of things." I chewed the dried sausage. It would have been better sliced up, maybe put into a stew, or at least with cheese, but was a quick and easy meal. And any time to eat Household Fleet food instead of field rations was a good thing.

She shrugged.

"How are you doing? One Primus Flight Leader to another?" I asked. Networking with your peers was always good.

"I'm waiting until I can get cleared to take off this suit, then find out when my next rest period is and range for some recreation with a convenient and available Decanus looking to make this mess go away for a few blissful moments," she said, her tail flicking about.

The short woman blinked and coughed. "Um that is..."

"I'm underage; I'm not ignorant. And as long as you're not breaking the fraternization rules, it's not my concern. You are a professional and I know Prefect RavenSnow runs a tight squadron." I shook my head. Crazy demons. Though in this they were not that different from humans. Young soldiers were always ruled by such things, especially when their own mortality was shoved into their faces.

The Fleet and Legions were sensible enough to realize that banning venial sins would only cause problems, especially given so many young demons grouped together. It was better to provide a controlled place to indulge in things like drink, gambling, and… other forms of recreation.

Depending on what was used to make the brew, an illicit still could be a health hazard. And even if the product was pure, it was a fire hazard. Underground gambling was less of a risk but could still produce debt and predatory lending. Transparency was intended to lessen such risks, which was how I knew GreyDawn was someone I would have to be careful with if I ever had to bluff her.

"Right." Wencesla shook her head. She looked behind me to the aft end of the maintenance bay and smiled. "Well, I've got to see if anyone needs any food; you have fun with your visitors!"

"What?" I asked, but she was already off and distributing food to any pilots and Ritualista who wanted it. Which, Legionaries and sailors being who they were, meant her bucket quickly went empty.

I twisted my neck to see two people coming up towards me. Both were pretty beat-up with their armor covered in dust, grime, and blood. One had relatively light armor over a flight suit that had harness points and connections. That made her a VTOL pilot. Her short white hair was a mess from the helmet that was somewhere else. Her wings were a dark grey with white accents and a matching thin long tail swished behind her as she walked up.

Next to her was a remarkably well-presented woman in dark casual business-wear: bodice, skirt, jacket, under a set of legionary lorica armor. With magenta skin, her bangs were evenly cut and her hair was pulled back in an efficient, neat orange ponytail. She wore slim gold-framed glasses and a cigar of all things was tucked behind one pointed ear.

Both were eating pita wraps that had been put into foil cones to keep from dripping.

"Venus Centurion Opal, Librarian Evadne." Instead of saluting, I bowed my horns to them to show my intention to have this be an informal event. "It's wonderful to see you up here. How are the others doing? I know Medico Kaena made sure herself and the two other wounded were stable."

"She did, and they're with the doctors now," Evadne said, she gave a cautious optimism but there seemed to be more behind those glasses.

But she was right. With our healing abilities and regeneration, if a Legionary could make it that far then they had excellent odds of making a full recovery. Physically that is.

The key job of our Medicos, of any medic really, was to do triage. Then those who could be kept alive were kept alive until they could be ferried back up to an airship or some other key facility. It was a fact that the majority of the Household Fleet and Imperial Legion's missio causaria, honorable medical discharges, were due to non-physical wounds. There were programs and counseling to help with Trauma Accumulation but for some situations a discharge was the kindest option.

Meanwhile Opal seemed to be surprised. The VTOL pilot tilted her head and looked me over. "Oh... So you are that young noble... wait... I did hear something... about a young noble who earned her Ace status against a Ziox War Mistress and an entire squadron?" She glanced to the Librarian for confirmation.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of cinema? Don't read many broadsheets?" the Librarian asked as my Ritualista busied themselves with checking my suit's status. Gibbs, my crew chief, seemed amused.

"Mostly just the gladiatorial sections," Opal shrugged as she and the Librarian moved to stand in front of me, to make it easier on my neck.

"Well," Evadne gave a bright smile. "This is Primus Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust."

"It was not a Squadron: two Flights, not Three," I corrected, taking an angry bite of the sausage.

Opal absently bowed her head. "Still, I wanted to come up and thank you all," she looked around and waved to the rest of my Flight.

"We're all on the same team," I agreed. I would have preferred a less risky team-building exercise but esprit de corps was vital. And in that light I asked about something related to her specialty. "Did you see if the Umbra Mediums had taken up the hoof-sloggers? I heard we were pulling out of the Resort Landing Zones."

Opal nodded. "Looks like they went all in and have a Squadron's worth pulling up the two Centuries and their heavy equipment, such as it is."

"Yes, our brave women are doubtless getting out, enjoying being in the air again, stowing their kit, and then going onto to whatever places to engage in some sort of minor soothing vices," the librarian absently tapped her cigar.

I had some curiosity as to what information or mission a Palace Librarian had that would justify her presence here and require pulling out in such a manner. I wondered if it had to do with CSR's reconnaissance of Ortov and the areas around the city, or maybe to do with the ceasefire talks, or perhaps the coup that was behind all these "irregulars" scrambling about when their plot to overthrow Queen Vualia exploded in their faces.

I was curious but my curiosity did not exceed my desire to avoid further entanglements. I could see from the Librarian's little smile that she was gauging my reaction.

I shrugged. "The smoking lounge is up one deck, aft two frames and on the starboard."

Librarian Evadne laughed. "Why, thank you Countess."

"I'll show you the way," Opal said. "It's not far from the wardroom, I'm going up there to have some brandy myself. I know the stewards often keep a bottle stashed in reserve."

"Oh, I must confess I got a taste for fleet gin in my younger days," Evadne said as they walked off.

Optio Gibbs stepped back to me. "Smarter than you look, Primus," she murmured in a bare whisper only I could hear.

I raised an eyebrow at her as my tail curled up. I could respect a non-com giving quiet advice to her superior. "Oh?"

"Most young nobles would jump at the chance of getting in good with the Palace Librarians." My crew chief's eyes darted to VioletBlood who was chatting with Octavia.

"Give me some credit, Optio. I know that's more trouble than it's worth."

"Well said, Ma'am," Gibbs replied as she started checking my environmental and navigational systems.

++++++


Listening to a warning coming over the Primary Circuit to make the ship ready, I stood at the forward observation deck of the HFV Garuda. I wore a set of my dress blacks with the Preserver Order pinned at my neck. A mug of coffee was in my hand as I looked out at the formation in front of me.

Out here, with just the sea and the sky, the collection of airships looked almost peaceful. With no references to compare their motions against, the airframes looked graceful instead of lumbering.

Task Force 402 was also flying closer than normal. Not the “close enough that the airships were going to crash into each other” that popular media portrayed Fleet actions as, but closer than an ideal based on proper ranges for mutual support and scouting.

"You handled the service well enough," GreyDawn said, sipping her own coffee. Her amber eyes looked me over. She was by far the most experienced member of my Flight. Not that that was saying much.

"I just said a few words. It was the chaplains and the Squadron commanders and group trooper commanders who said the most."

"Sure, but that was all the standard patter. We all know what a Volantes Prefect Centurion says when she loses members of her squadron," GreyDawn looked at her black coffee. "I'm not saying they lack sincerity, but we've heard it all before."

"Including Octavia?"

GreyDawn's tail swished. "Ma'am, she has lost squadron mates before."

"I know that, it's just... I see her as the most inexperienced. The green member of the Flight." I looked at the orange and red-haired woman.

GreyDawn chuckled.

"My age isn't an issue for you, is it?" I held up a hand. "I'm not accusing; you can speak freely. My situation is unusual, I want to make sure it does not become a problem."

The Centurion took a long drink and pondered. "You've got real potential, Countess. I'll be honest; I expected you to be a bit more like your wing-woman, the baroness."

I glanced back at the hatch into the compartment. "VioletBlood is exuberant."

"She's the more typical kind of noble cadets I've seen as new Ritual Plate Pilots. Eager like a puppy, tail wagging about. Might have started to sink in for her when she was at the service and sipped from the chalice before saying her goodbyes."

One of the Household Fleet chaplains was a member of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady. And given I had a small speaking role in the service and was a known member of the Church of DarkStar I ended up volunteering to hold the chalice when the ashes and holy water were mixed together.

There were other devotional ceremonies as part of the service. House BlackSky was remarkably pluralistic. Perhaps even faddish when it came to taking in a plethora of faiths. Then again who was I to talk? One of my mothers was a nun who venerated a granddaughter of our Imperatrix who died over a millennia ago.

Everyone of the faith had taken a sip and then had a quiet contemplative moment.

The service was taken at the front end of the well deck. About three hundred feet long by ninety feet wide, the giant ventral opening at the bottom of the airship was a place for transporting oversized cargos, a docking bay for Venture scout airships and heavy VTOLs, and had a set of overhead cranes that could move more conventional cargo.

Provided the conditions were safe enough for an airship to approach the ground.

It also gave a rather striking venue: rows of seating faced two columns of fluttering House BlackSky Banners. They seemed to hang in the sky and far below them was the waters of the Guardia Sea.

The wreaths that went over the railing seemed to fall forever before vanishing from sight. Fortunately, the battle did not yield too many fatalities, and only a subset of those had their bodies recovered.

There was the lost from Spatha Two and an unlucky RP Pilot from the Light Damocles carrier Syracuse. A Hathor anti aircraft gun managed to take out her wards and rumor has it fire from a Horus artillery piece just happened to intersect with her flight. It was a one in a million shot, I doubted the artillery crew even knew their big arcane cannon hit someone.

I knew for a fact that in war acts of the most horrific bad luck could happen. Even to people who weren't the plaything of cosmic entities like Being X. Needless to say, there was nothing left to bury of that Fleet flier.

Furthermore, the majority of the remainder were having their bodies shipped back home to Bovitar with us. That did leave two members of Imperatrix BlackSky's Imperial Legions who were... well technically they were being buried at sea.

Part of the job of the Ritual Plate squadrons doing defensive air patrol was to keep an eye on threats from the ground, or sea. Earlier today, part of their job was to make sure there were no nearby ships. To ensure that nothing... jettisoned during the ceremony ended up being an inadvertent projectile.

"Two nights ago was the first time she had even a fleeting crossing with mortality," I noted as I stared out onto the sea below us. The days since the Battle of Ortov, well skirmish, had Task Force 402 nearly exclusively doing air operations, mostly Scouting at that.

Luxon was also making noises that their occupation of Ortov was temporary and there were some proof as to that; while they did conduct operations in the city they had been targeted and their forward base remained to the northern side.

The latter was sensible enough given terrain, resources, and time. But there were indications that Luxon was not willing to invest, at the moment, in gobbling up another city. At least one that was so far from the current border of the Occupation Zone.

"Fleeting, that's about right," GreyDawn noted. "Tell me, did she make Ace?"

I shrugged. I had been through a debriefing with Quirinus, RavenSnow and the other Flight Leaders yesterday so I knew the answer to that. "Is it really all that important?"

GreyDawn gave an approving nod. "For some it is, Countess."

"It's only five air-to-air kills."

Snorting, she shook her head. "Some of us don't manage to get that with a sword." She sobered. "But that reputation, all the propaganda… It can have an effect, especially on a young former cadet who wants to prove herself to her lost and noble parents."

"I know VioletBlood's tendencies; I'm keeping her grounded."

GreyDawn gave me a weary expression that made me realize just how much older she was than she truly looked. Gauging age could be tricky for our kind. There were some tells around the eyes and a certain poise and certain experience that came across in an emotional reservation.

"I really appreciate your work in mentoring Octavia and helping with VioletBlood." I tapped my mug. "And, well, dealing with two nobles."

GreyDawn shook her head. She tried to not loom over me, but the height difference was hard to ignore. "Could be worse. At least with just two of you I don't have to worry about intrigue and squabbling power plays."

My first instinct was to downplay it. My second was to agree with her. As Great Houses went, House BlackSky's nobility could have been a lot worse. Instead, I shook my head. "I wonder if Ortov was the result of a squabbling power play."

GreyDawn was pensive. "We were on the edges. That daughter princess..." She paused.

"Ursula"

"Right, her. She was a provincial governor right on the western part of the border of the occupation zone. A frontline position, a trusted position." GreyDawn sighed.

"A position where she could try to build forces and court allies."

"Not enough," the older centurion's wings twitched. "I wonder if she thought too much about the amount of Alecto and Luxon 'surplus' she was getting."

I shrugged. "Those Alecton Marines were quite helpful in finding Princess Ursula and directing Queen Vualia straight to her. Not to mention the help Task Force 403, specifically their Infantry Cohort and their Torpedo bombers, had in taking out the eastern flank of Ursula's forces."

I stared out at the sky and water. Even though she ruled a Minor House, Queen Vualia was still a powerful elder demoness. Her problem was that one's personal power mattered less and less once your domain reached a certain size.

Yes being an elder demoness of vast arcane capabilities and experience made for a combatant that was functionally a strategic asset, but there was only one of you.

Having daughters, or other close allies, helped but they were also a limited resource. And as Ursula showed, one that could turn on you. To get real power a House needed robust institutions, military professionalism, strong logistics, and an economy capable of supporting those structures.

"I suppose your Librarian friend could answer those questions."

I shot GreyDawn a look.

Her amber eyes turned away. "I wouldn't dig too deeply into what she's up to. But I'm just a line pilot."

I exhaled. "But I'm a Flight leader?"

GreyDawn snorted. "Ma'am, we know there's more than that."

I put down a tiny bit of ire. This was a private moment and she was not being directly disrespectful, and I wanted to encourage advice from experienced people. Yes there was a fleet officer working a scrying station helping with air traffic monitoring, but she was on the other side of the compartment and engrossed in her work.

"Go on."

"You're still a couple months shy of your thirteenth birthday and you're already a Flight Leader. You're a countess. And unlike our VioletBlood you achieved yours from merit."

"My duchess gave it to me when she adopted me."

"Due to your efforts and with the endorsement of the imperial Family. Primus, we both know you won't be satisfied with staying a Flight Leader for what... nineteen years? Eighteen? However much you have left. Assuming you don't sign up for another term."

I had to give a slight nod at that.

"And if I were a betting woman-"

"Which you are," I lightly noted. GreyDawn was a fair dice player, among other games. A skill that involved reading the other player more than any luck.

"True, though I'm sure no one would take a wager on whether or not you'll end up in Squadron Command. It's well known how you finished your cadet training."

I exhaled. Being in charge of three Flights was not too onerous. "But Wing command?"

GreyDawn's wings shrugged.

"Tell me, are there wagers on if I'll make Volantes Tribune?"

"I would not be surprised if there were, but I can't say for certain."

I gave a tiny smile. "And such a wager would be a long-term one. Not exactly appealing action for bored Legionaries and Fleet crew looking for some coin to change hands."

"I would not argue with that assessment."

"And in light of this, you think I should have asked the Librarian for more information?"

"I can't say, that's above my pay grade."

"But it might not be above mine. At least in the future." I sighed.

"Ma'am," she stated in that tone of an experienced non-com agreeing with plausible deniability.

"Keep this up and I'll put you in for more commendations. Quirinus knows me; if I emphasize you and Octavia having the most critical role in the rescue of Spatha Two she'd be happy to go along with it."

"Ma'am?"

I smiled, showing my fangs. "Technically Librarian Evadne was in the warzone as a civilian. Therefore you, and Octavia, can qualify for a Preserver award. Now, I won't be so crass to try to put you in for a Crown grade award. However, I do have a bit of pull with those who decide when a Preserver award should be given." I tapped the gem at my throat.

GreyDawn shook her head ruefully. "I probably shouldn't get in the way of Octavia getting some rewards.'

"Do you think she needs it?"

"Needs? No. But she's still at the age where she'll appreciate it on a sentimental level."

"My, you are a cynical one." I might have had my tail swish at that remark.

GreyDawn gave a mock salute with her cup and then took a drink.

It was obvious that Quirinus had put GreyDawn into my Flight as a minder. Which I did not take as an insult given Quirinus had been my cadet instructor and specifically asked for me for Flight command in the squadron she had been given when she returned to a combat billet.

Doubtless, she wanted to keep an eye on me and to make use of my talents. I did not begrudge her for that. Prefect Quirinus had spent roughly a year instructing me, if she could get some return on that effort she was entitled to it.

I suppose I was content with this arrangement largely because I approved of her as a Squadron Commander. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement of such sensibility that I was certain strings had been pulled with my assignment.

After the events prior to my twelfth birthday I had come under considerable attention and had gotten plenty of... patrons.

I looked at the formation of airships. It seemed a bit closer and the Ritual Plate formations were drawing in. Plus the fleet officer doing air traffic work was getting busier. It would not be long now.

And that was something I had objections with. Not the patronage exactly, but that it was used to put me into a combat assignment, one balanced to help me grow and learn. Not just as a Ritual Plate pilot, but as a commander.

My intention to enlist in the Imperial Legions early was to maximize the time I spent in training roles. But due to a bunch of well-meaning, but warmongering, officers instead of spending at least a couple more years in training, I was already commanding pilots in battle.

No wonder the gossipy scuttlebutt took it as a certainty that I would make Squadron Command.

There was a knock on the door. After a moment the hatch opened and VioletBlood stepped in. "I'm glad I'm not late!" she said carrying a bucket with some more rolls and a bit of cheese and a small cylindrical bottle of Fleet issue gin. Perhaps not ideal, but a fair example of scrounging.

"And Octavia?" I had tried to be painfully clear that she could be here if she wanted to. And this was not an "invitation".

"She's talking with the Baha'i Chaplain. There was a bit of a line."

"Understandable, she's a member of Vanis Reformed, correct?" I had the luck of being at the head of the line talking to the DarkStar Church Chaplain. And all I did with her was go with some of the prayers I learned at my mother Clementia's side while the chaplain blessed my earrings and locket.

I would have preferred to avoid the rigamarole but I was already there, and being reminded of one of my mothers was some comfort.

I would have to talk to Octavia again. In a way it was reassuring she was seeking some comfort and guidance. Not just from her faith but she had talked with myself and Quirinus. Her concerns were just that: concerns. Talking about combat was healthy.

Nothing that made me think I had to pull her off active duty. In a way, it was reassuring. She was still grappling with the ethics of war. Meanwhile, of the rest of my Flight GreyDawn was a cynical lifer who was inured to all this. And VioletBlood had come to us with a bottle of liquor to celebrate with. Which more than anything showed the bloodthirsty side of BlackSkyvian nobility.

VioletBlood shrugged. "I know she doesn't drink, but plenty of people are teetotalers for non-religious reasons."

I gave her a dry look. It was true that the Church of DarkStar only prohibited drunkenness. My official religion was not a reason why I did not drink.

"I mean you're still a bit..."

"My age is not a factor either," I stated.

VioletBlood looked down at the gin bottle with a frown.

And there it was; it was easy to talk in the abstract of letting a bit of venial sins slide, especially when under supervision. It was another to let a fourteen-year-old girl drink. Still, this way I could keep her under my eye. Besides, she had earned it.

"I will let you toast beforehand, but next time..." I gave a smirk. "I expect you to find something better than Household Fleet rotgut. Think of your pride."

VioletBlood pouted and looked to GreyDawn. "You are a legionary," my senior-most pilot noted.

"And a noble," I added.

"Fine, I'll get some pear schnapps in Bovitar and sign it into the Squadron's Liquor Stock."

I nodded while GreyDawn finished off her coffee.

I could not be certain but it looked like all the patrolling Ritual Plate had pulled into their mother airships. After about two hours of charging the teleport runes, Task Force 402 was at its most vulnerable.

At least all of our Venture Scouts had their own teleport systems. Engraving the runes in critical locations throughout an airship's structural frames was a considerable cost. Not to mention adding in the lines and arcane power systems to connect them as well as all the navigation controllers.

Many of the smallest airships were simply built without teleport capability. They were fast enough that in many ways it was more efficient to have them use conventional propulsion on Diyu. And if they needed to be moved offworld then they could dock into the ventral well deck of a larger airship.

This cost savings did limit their utility, but for airships that were intended to do local fleet screening an argument could be made for their utility. Especially given the vast numbers of Venture Scouts and Kolibri patrol craft in the Household fleet. When you had about fifteen hundred and a thousand ships respectively in those classes, cost savings were alluring.

The teleport system had its limitations. It required a long charge up before teleport, and a cooldown afterwards to let the arcane equivalent of waste heat bleed out of the runes. There was also a tradeoff between range and accuracy in destination.

One could teleport on the same plane, that is by more skipping than fully breaking through reality, but only up to a bit over four hundred miles with the upside that one had even odds of appearing within about five miles of your destination.

Meanwhile a teleport that fully broke out of a given plane had a much further range, literally to other worlds, realms, and planes, but you were lucky if you appeared within eight hundred miles of your destination. It also took far longer to charge the teleportation runes and had a longer cooldown time.

Having a beacon at your destination could dramatically reduce the inaccuracy of your emergence point. However... it was a beacon, and thus something the enemy would be well aware of and an easy location to track. Jammers could also interfere with the emergence point, though a Jamming ward large enough to deflect an entire region would be quite energy intensive.

Transiting between here and the moons of Lantia or Emuria was in between as it was a deeper "skip" that was between two concrete realities. And gave a rather good even odds of appearing within eighty miles of your intended destination.

Taking advantage of that quirk in the tradeoff between range and accuracy was why House BlackSky kept the Third Primus Fleet stationed at Lantia. House Andromache liked the tangible commitment one of their strongest allies had to their defense.

And House BlackSky liked having the ability to drop a full fleet with air power and Legion Landing Flotillas anywhere on Diyu and beyond at a moment's notice.

I admired the coup it gave us, and the strategic options and how it fit into our overall doctrine of power projection. But this was the exact kind of bellicosity that made the other Great Houses concerned about House BlackSky.

The shortest range teleport had some limitations that, given the range and mean time between teleports of about three hours, gave it a functional velocity of 140 miles per hour. Which was still 50% faster than the official fleet speed of the Household Fleet.

It would not be the first time I had served an Empire beset by enemies afraid of the sharpness of our sword.

The Primary Circuit came on via the overhead speaker. "Teleport Warning. Teleport Warning. All hands prepare for Teleport. Secure all equipment and safe all arcane systems," the cool voice said.

The fleet officer in the compartment called in to confirm her status and that of the compartment and the part of the sky she was monitoring.

I motioned for VioletBlood to open the bottle and pour a couple fingers into GreyDawn's mug, then a couple into her own.

I looked down at the last bit of coffee in mine.

We waited for a bit longer. A formation of Airships would typically synchronize their teleport navigation systems. That would allow them to arrive at their destination at roughly the same emergence point. Thus if we could not ensure an accurate Teleport, the Household Fleet could ensure a precise one.

The Primary Circuit came back on and started counting down. Everything started to get a low hum as the runes inlaid thought the Garuda started to become critical.

I lifted my mug and we all took a drink as the airship shivered and golden light overtook us before bleeding into a purple shadow that slowly faded.

We were over four hundred miles closer to home.

Unfortunately, since we were still over the Gaudia sea and out of sight of land, the view did not change very much.

GreyDawn had a bit of mirth at VioletBlood's tail-drooping disappointment. To be fair the baroness looked so forlorn, I let them both have another shot.


++++++

Tail flicking, I paced the concourse. I had managed to keep my composure throughout this plan: from the correspondence in the Journal on Air Combat, to arranging to get transferred to support Legion stationed in Eastern Province, to coming up with an excuse to my family as to why I was being transferred thousands of miles across the length of House BlackSky, to using the gossip back channels to find out when and where the Legionary components of Task Force 402 would be landing, and finally to arrange to be off duty when that happened.

Months and months of work had gone into this.

All to reunite with someone I last saw a lifetime ago.

Someone who terrified me.

I could just imagine her criticizing me for picking this moment to meet her, instead of waiting for her to get settled in and when our schedules lined up.

My tail and wings drooped as I looked around what was a glorified, if expansive and efficiently-built, waiting room. Beyond a set of doors to one wall was a set of landing pads, taxiways, and other accoutrements to allow for the landing, unloading, loading, and servicing of VTOLs.

The closer ones were built for Spatha and Umbra sized models. Further out were larger ones for Gladius and Pugio heavy VTOLs and a bit beyond those were yet bigger ones that could accommodate airships small ones, Kolibri patrol sized and smaller.

Picking up on my nervousness, some of the other Fleet and Legionaries gave knowing looks.

Which was hardly an unreasonable assumption, as wrong as it was.

I was not some lovelorn pilot waiting to reunite with her mate.

We had a role to play. I had been born ahead of her, before she was. Guilt flittered over me, was I supposed to have made things ready for her? Prepared things for her in some way?

I pushed that aside. I would have been four when she was born. And even the White Silver was over twice that age when she first went into battle and was nearly thrice that age the second time around.

I sat down on a wooden bench and composed myself.

In the time since I learned about her, I had pushed myself. I increased my skill and volunteered for more flight time and training missions. I was always a good flier but good would not be sufficient, not if I wanted to fly by Tanya's side.

I had studiously avoided looking out the windows whenever an Umbra or a Spatha landed. If I had, I knew I would stare helplessly as I looked over the disembarking passengers to see if I could spot her.

I'll admit my hope and tension rose each time the doors opened and a fresh crop of Fleet and Legionaries came through the doors. It was not just the HFV Garuda or the rest of Task Force 402 that was unloading personnel.

While not the largest base, Castra Bovitar was still a busy facility.

The doors slid open again and another group of people walked in.

Perking up, at a tingle to my horns, I scanned the crowd but while they were Ritual Plate Pilots none of them were here.

One in the front was about her height, but the reserved woman had green eyes and black horns and was far too old. She was also a Household Fleet Pilot.

My hope curdled, but the tension remained as I slumped back onto the bench.

Then the group of pilots parted.

And I saw her.

She was as I remembered. A prim uniform bearing select, high decorations. Slight and misleadingly delicate-looking with intense blue eyes and wild blonde hair, parts of which seemed to bob about as she talked. Even at this distance, she exuded a commanding presence.

Yet, there were changes.

I expected the obvious: curling white horns, feathered wings, and whipping spade-tipped tail. But seeing her flashing her fangs in an only mostly guarded smile with the young woman next to her was surprising.

Maybe a year older than her, the other pilot was in her early teens. She had crisp aristocratic features and pale skin that had a hint of periwinkle. Her fine dark red hair was in drill-like curls, and while she did not bear as many decorations she still walked with a casually bloodthirsty confidence. She made pushing a luggage cart laden with duffle bags seem like a task to be taken with the utmost respect

Tail still, I found that I had gotten up and was already walking towards them. Towards Her. My focus was on the young imperious, lethal little noble officer with blonde hair; the one I knew.

I knew I was plain, especially in coloration with just brown hair and alabaster skin. My wings and horns were nothing too exotic either. I was older than them, but even my figure was rather typical.

Tanya swiveled her head and the tingling in my horns grew as those blue eyes looked up at mine.

Blinking, her tail flicked and swished.

I could imagine her brilliant logical mind taking in every detail and inexorably coming to a conclusion. Getting even closer, I flexed my hands. This was the part I could not plan for.

"Apologies I'm bad with names..." She looked onto my uniform to confirm rank and specialization. "Volantes Centurion, I'm sure we've met, maybe at a training exercise or a lecture?"

"Or the ballet?" her companion said with careful high-class enunciation to her Silvan Latin. Her lime colored eyes sized me up.

"Yes, perhaps."

I swallowed and bowed my horns. "I'm Centurion Victorious Shadow, recently transferred from Opalescence Bay. We've had some correspondence in the Journal on Air Combat, but I was not using my full name in those letters."

I could feel her reserve locking down as her blue eyes darted to the other pilot. "You had some fascinating ideas." She gave a smile. "We must catch up then. You know myself so I think we can skip full introductions."

The other pilot's tail flicked and she gave a disapproving look.

"Fine." There was a sigh. "I am Primus Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust, and my companion, and stickler for protocol, is Volantes Centurion Baroness VioletBlood."

"Charmed," I bowed my horns to the little baroness.

"Now, Baroness," Tauria gave a smile. "Can you give me a moment so I can catch up with an old friend?"

The baroness eyed me but her stance became meek when Tauria's attention turned towards her. She saluted and pushed the cart away, her tail low; its tip twitching.

"Crazy demons," Tauria quietly murmured as she directed me to the side of the concourse.

The waiting room for travelers had a fair-size commissary so that Fleet and Legionaries could pick up various small items to supplement their kit just before boarding their airships.

There was also something vaguely similar to a Commonwealth pub, or a Low Provinces beer cafe. Despite being part of a military base, there was some attempt to add a homey feel. It helped that much of the furniture here was wooden and even a whitewashed vaulted ceiling helped give a good atmosphere. The style here was a blend of Alecton and Condani

Condanium was a city in the northwest of House BlackSky's mainland holdings. Near the border with Elena and positioned where a river emptied into a massive bay, it was a port city. Unsurprisingly, there turned out to be a fair degree of fish on the menu.

We seated ourselves with Tauria practically perched on the fairly high booth we sat in. Hair bobbing, she looked over the menu with a frown. I knew she was not a fan of things that were fried and greasy.

"We can um... go somewhere with lighter fare?" I offered.

"That was clever of you," she noted, paging through the menu as she shifted her wings to try to get comfortable.

"I'm sorry?"

"Using an academic journal to sound me out. We exchanged several rounds of correspondence and I never..." She put the menu down. "I didn't even think you were here."

I put my hands up but... instead of reaching across I folded them in front of me on the table. "I don't know how it happened. After there was... well you could call it a dream. Maybe it had to do with that battle; the last one. Your last one."

Giving up on trying to position her wings, she let them fold down as if she was trying to minimize the giant collections of gleaming white feathers. "That's what he said... when he had others to take care of..." she quietly murmured.

"Tanya?"

"How... were..." she gathered herself. When challenged she had two ways of reaction: cold logic or intense violence. Or both. "What do you remember?"

"The Rhine. The 203rd. It becoming Salamander. Fjords and deserts. Operation Revolving Door. Singing after strafing the capital of the Russy Federation. Operation Götterdämmerung ," I shrugged. "What do you remember?"

She stared at me. "That was too grandiose of a name, and far too revealing of intention," she grumbled."

"Tanya?"

"Careful with that name. We can't all be as lucky to have the same nickname, Visha."

I smiled despite myself. "You remember then?"

She gave a little nod. "Weiss got you back home? Those that survived."

"Yeah, after that the war was..." I exhaled. "That's not important."

She gave me a critical look as a waitress with long white hair and deep blue wings slipped up to us. I ordered water and Tauria took a coffee.

The silence drew out as she looked into the cup and took a sip.

"I'm willing to entertain that you are who you say you are."

"Good?" I sipped the water. At least she was not in her Ritual Plate. That was... some comfort.

"I would prefer not to report you as a spy, or as a madwoman. The paperwork and questions it would ask would be burdensome," she said with utterly frank seriousness.

I blinked then, despite the tension, laughed. That, more than her making Ace before her twelfth birthday, was strong evidence she was who I thought she was.

I ran a finger over the rim of the cup. "So... um... we did win right?"

"The war? How would I know that?"

"No, not that. You know how it would have gone…" I kept the ire out of my voice. It was not at her anyway; she had known from the start that we would not win against the world. It was not fair. It started with us being invaded on multiple fronts but, as Tanya would note, fairness had nothing to do with it. "I'm asking about your last fight. Our last fight."

Her trepidation vanished as she gave a toothy smile. "That was a success."

"Really?"

She reached out and patted my hand. "Our world, our past world, was freed of a great evil. You could say we took out the trash and got rewarded for it."

I looked at her little hand on mine. I could feel her sincerity, her satisfaction.

"Someone talked to you... after you died?"

She gave a little smile.

I squeezed her hand.

Tauria looked down. "We have to be careful, Visha."

"We do?"

She lowered her voice. "If it gets out that we were reincarnated, certain parts of the Imperial government would be interested in us. Do you want to be poked and prodded? Best case they confirm our stories and we have to be tested and examined, worst case they can't find any magical signature or whatever and we get declared mad and drummed out of the Legions."

"It wouldn't be that bad," I protested.

She waved me off

"But we're both here for a reason."

"I agree." She looked me over. "I'm still getting over the shock."

"Yes, you're quite rattled," I dryly noted. I knew her coping mechanisms. She would be making theories, building contingencies.

Still holding my hand, Tauria sipped her coffee. "You sought me out. Amber Island is thousands of miles away. And, from the dates we started corresponding, you started it not long after I fought the War Mistress. I suppose that propaganda push had some upside."

"Now what?"

She let go. "Well, we can let Baroness VioletBlood unpack and organize my kit and hers and sort my Flight's admin paperwork alone. That will give us some time before I have to get back to my wingwoman."

"And what will we do until then?" I asked, trying not to frown at that. I was once her wingwoman.

Tauria picked up the menu as if she could will it to produce an option suitable to her tastes. "You are right, we do have a lot of work to do. And no reason to not discuss things on an empty stomach."

End Chapter 9

There we go. Took longer than originally planned, but got the Battle of Ortov concluded and have Visha reunited. I plan to have ch10 open with Tauria's POV on Visha reappearing into her life and her thinking about how this influences her future plans and obligations.

Thank you so much for all of you who have read and commented.

And special thanks to especially to DCG, Ellf, Green Sea, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.