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

To celebrate hitting Chapter 11 Run Though the Jungle (thanks to Scopas for the title) getting to 9,000 words and as a reward to watchers new and old.

Let's have some art of the three characters that everyone has been clamoring about.




Full size.

(By the excellent Daywalkerrl link to artist's DA page )


As promised we have Tauria and everyone's favorite two pilots with names starting with Vi. This one is set a bit in the future, likely after the combat arc starting in ch11.

Personally, think the little Baroness is handling things well. And Visha has experience dealing with the Tanya/Tauria.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Return Verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic thingy.
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/


Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku
http://fukufics.com

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 11: Run Through the Jungle


My twelfth birthday was an aberration. I had been surrounded by friends and family. I had been adopted and given honors and gifts of great value.

I spent my thirteenth birthday wallowing in mud and flying three combat patrol missions back to back to back, fending off waves of Ziox-trained and Trosier-equipped Ritual Plate in between keeping mad partisans from blowing up an ore refinery far behind what could be charitably called our operating base.

In a way, it was a comforting return to form.

Though, in two months of fighting in the wild lands nominally controlled by House Crocelli, I had yet to be wounded anywhere nearly as bad as I had been while helping my Duchess at that opera days before my twelve birthday.

It could be worse; two days later things had calmed down enough to have a bit of cake. Both Visha and VioletBlood had outdone themselves in their field scrounging. Yes, the cake was a shelf-stable thing that was halfway between a pound cake and a dense bread and the icing had been made using hot chocolate. But given that the nearest village was rather... lacking in amenities and that almost all of our supply VTOLs were filled with important things like fuel, parts, munitions, rations, and other critical components it was impressive enough work.

Even the fleet issue coffee I was sipping was one of my ersatz gifts. Which was far better than ersatz coffee.

I did wonder how much the caffeine could actually help as I tried to not slump in my armor. My faceplate was up and the evening air was cool enough that I was not sweating into my inner flight suit. At least not as bad as I had been earlier today. I shook my head. The Forward Operating Base was adequate enough. The approaches were cleared, we had a good set of supplies and a large enough internal perimeter to put the more energetic supply dumps a safe, safe enough to feel good at least, distance off.

We even had two Spatha Flights. Well... two of the VTOLs were down for repairs, but having our own organic airlift was useful. There was also landing space, faculties, and parts to support Umbra Medium VTOLs. And a Gladius or Pugio Heavy VTOL could land if required, which was useful for the delivery of bulk items. Perhaps more useful for the Legionary infantry and Auxilia than the two Squadrons of Ritual Plate also posted at FOB EmeraldInfero.

I did not know if the sobriquet was simply descriptive or named after some poor hoof-slogger who died here and had cosmic bad luck.

The view was impressive, given how thick the plants and trees grew in the interior of House Crocelli's Eastern Interior Confederation. However, I was not enjoying the view our base gave of the outlying valley with its thickly canopied jungle.

There was too much risk of a sniper in the bush taking a potshot at me. Sure, I could strip out of my armor and put on a worn set of infantry armor, at least then I would not stand out as a high-value target, but that would add critical moments to the time it took me to take to the air.

If I wanted to look at pretty trees I could do it from the air, at speed.

Which meant I now had a great view of sandbags around a mortar pit, and beyond that one of the artillery positions. Fixed defensive assets were counter to BlackSkyvian doctrinal preference, but the Arachne guns were self-propelled. There was also the smell of latrines and spent fuel cells. While House BlackSky was more fastidious than the Empire in such things, when in the field you had to make due.

A shadow came over me and I smelled something a bit like a wet dog, a very large wet dog. Which was an improvement in the local bouquet. In all honesty, I was not at my best given the flight hours I had been pulling.

"Mind if I sit?" the shadow asked in a deep, but very respectful, rumble. If the size was not an obvious clue as to the speaker's identity, the male voice was.

I looked up at the Scout Auxilia. He was nearly twice my height and had to be at least six times my weight. And it had to be all muscle, or hair.

"Of course," I scooted over on the bench that was made out of castoff crates. "Lares?" I asked without even glancing at the plate carrier he wore.

"That's right," the large Forest Person sat down. The bench creaked. It was too tall for me which made my armored boots barely touch the ground. Meanwhile Lares' knees were practically at his elbows.

"I'm sorry about your squadmate," I stated. At least no one in my squadron died on my birthday.

Lares' face was craggy and had a strong brow but his blue eyes held a deep sorrow. "Hosta was an ass. Still didn't deserve it." He opened up a ration box and started eating. Forest People were Auxilia because their size required specialized kit and they lacked wings.

Sure, they could eat the same food as us and even fire the same weapons. Lares for example carried a squad support weapon as a personal rifle, with only a slight ergonomic adjustment for his larger hands and greater length of pull. Other Forest People lugged around a Minerva Rotary canon.

The tri-barrel weapon was normally mounted on vehicles, from the humble Mule to the Lavin battle tank to VTOLs of all sizes. Even for a Forest Person it was an awkward and heavy weapon that consumed ammunition, heavy ammunition at that, at a prodigious rate.

Still, it was a massive firepower advantage especially for a foot-patrol. Regardless of their weapon, their armor had to be custom and they took up extra VTOL capacity.

But when it came to woodland scouts, few could beat a Forest Person.

Until the enemy commanders decided to start shelling their own positions the second their own recon patrols made contact with "invisible forest wraiths".

I sipped my coffee with companionable silence. There was a reason Lares was having his snack in the same interior cameo-netted spot I had found.

His rations were the same as standard legionary issue, he just got a triple serving. And I could not begrudge him the relish that he was enjoying his meal. The packaged meals were rather good, especially if one had time to heat them.

"You don't have a Vanis accent," I noted. Vanis was the southern portion of House BlackSky that stuck out from the rest of the continent of Diyu.

Lares scoffed. "Nope. Eastern Province lad."

I turned and looked up at the giant yeti-like man next to me. "Really? You guys were here before my squad got sent down." Eastern Province had some Forest People, but they were not the most common woodland resident in that part of Diyu. His folk tended to live further to the west.

He snorted. "House sends us to wherever needed, Primus. If I wanted to stay home, I'd have gone into the Forestry and Mines Service."

"Instead you're out here trudging through the forest to protect a mine."

He grunted. "Great Maker has a sense of humor."

I snorted at that. "You don't know the half of it."

"You an Eastern girl too?" Lares asked.

Again I looked up and gave a wry smile. "Don't play big dumb Auxi with me."

He looked sheepish. "Yeah, no hiding the Noble Flight."

I finished my coffee and switched to a canteen. Water was vital, and it was easy to get dehydrated when it started to cool off.

"This isn't about my Flight's air support performance?"

Lares shook his big shaggy head. "Naw, you're real good." He glanced around to make sure no one from the other squadron was within earshot. "With your squadron rotated in, we're much more comfortable with close support. Especially through trees and other cover."

"We try our best," I said with mock humility as my tail twitched. This was all my fault. My plan to get the 5th Squadron all Polyxo had succeeded. My Duchess only had to pay for Visha's suit. Technically, I had paid for it, out of assets from my holdings, but since I was both a minor and on active service, a seneschal was administering County Larium, my land, guild, and industrial assets.

Alexi Frugi seemed a competent enough sort, if mousy, and came recommended by my eldest sister, ArgentShroud. She was actually part of ArgentShroud's staff in her role as our mother's Lady Castellan. What it came down to was that Visha's Polyxo was purchased with my mother's approval to spend assets held in trust for me, to be paid off using the income my portfolio generated every quarter. The accountant in me got twitchy over a calendar that had thirteen months

It was a bit sobering just how expensive Ritual Plate could be. A mid-level, if provincial, noble's holdings could swing it but only just. Though that made sense as my Duchess had her own Ritual Plat squadron of guild mercenary Pilots, not to mention her collection of personal and training suits.

It also said things about the size and value of the Barony of Lilla, VioletBlood's holding, given that she was able to convince her own seneschal to approve an outlay. Though for a young and skilled Pilot from a noble family that had grown... thin on the ground a top-line Ritual Plate was a very sensible investment.

"You do," he agreed, now switching over to his own canteen. Which was more like a full-on water can rigged with straps.

I nodded. I had gotten Quirinus the best equipment I could. Top-line or at least near that. Not everyone had the Mark 15 Gamma Block version of Polyxo, but they were all at least Mark 13 or later. My own Flight had gotten two more Gorgon Rigs, so all four of us were equipped. I had also helped Quirinus adapt a training regimen to get everyone in the squadron to use the extra capabilities, both those who had already been flying the advanced multi-role suit and those who had been using the Polydora.

The giant scout gave a sympathetic look and he tossed me a foil packet. I grabbed it and looked up. The Forest Person gave a shrug. I opened it up and took out one of the red sugar crystals and cracked it between my teeth. The jolt of military-grade life energy flickered through me.

"Not like I need that stuff,"

"Thanks," I nodded. There was no reason to make special field rations for Auxilia who did not have our... special dietary needs. But that did mean their kit had some extras they could trade. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll think of somethin'," Lares was amiable enough, and barter was a key economy in the field.

He sighed. "I was the best tracker in my family. I could follow any game and watch them and not spook anything: deer, drake, bear. Started teaching others, and well... got bored with the forests and decided to 'see the world'."

I snorted sympathetically. "And, for the sin of exceptional competence, you get sent to the wonderful Eastern Interior Confederation."

It was a dynamic I was more than familiar with. The Empire had it, but House BlackSky was in some ways worse. Imperial Legion doctrine emphasized strategic mobility. Almost all Legions were air-mobile capable, which meant they could be loaded onto troopships and other airship transports to be delivered anywhere.

This meant that weight was a massive concern. Which put focus on increasing individual capability. A professional Legionary with more training and experience weighed the same as one with less skill, let alone a levy or conscript. And the Polyxo Advanced Multi-role was a prime example of the tradeoff between expense and capability.

"It's not so bad. at least there's forests here," Lares said with mock gravity.

I actually laughed. We had all heard rumors of Forest People assigned to treeless steppes or Naiad handlers stationed in deserts.

"Yeah, and plenty of work for us as well," I added with the same joviality. I would have preferred a quiet posting but this was building up experience, which would make me a more credible trainer and instructor.

"When do you go out on patrol next?"

He shrugged. "They say sometime tonight, or tomorrow. Depends when the other patrols get back, or not."

I nodded. FOB EmeraldInferno supported multiple long-range patrols. Most of them consisted of a Contubernium of Forward Recon Legionaries and two Scout Auxilia. The Legionaries mostly provided extra fire support, supplies, and a bit more mobility.

That was not to say that Forward Recon were blundering oxen. They were light on their feet and skilled in woodcraft and veiling. However, they were still demons. Other than flight, one of the Forest People, the Woods Folk, the Downland Yeti, had all the physical advantages in a woodland environment. They were stronger, faster, had more stamina, left less of a trail, and were, despite their size, much stealthier.

"Your team working well? They're not stepping on too many branches?"

"The ones with hooves are nimble enough, the ones wearing boots... eh," he shrugged, then smiled. "Least I don't have to worry about any of them dropping feathers."

I snorted. That my species was so... varied in morphology was a source of amusement to the Forest People.

It should be readily obvious why Lares' people were largely left to their own devices in House BlackSky's lands. The Imperatrix had no desire to waste Legionary lives trying to fight a guerrilla war against the Forest People. It was easier to bring them in as productive citizens.

Even they needed supplies from cities and settlements after all, and they were superb foresters and cultivators. And that was before their martial skill was counted. The one downside, if one could call it that, was that this meant their traditional land claims were given legal weight. Which made land-use litigation a bit complicated.

"Where in Eastern Province do you hail from?" I asked, with just a hint trepidation.

"Up north by the border."

"Duchy of Argenia?" It was a fair bet, my Duchess was the largest landholder in Eastern Province. Though Imperial lease-holds, which were technically property of the Imperatrix, were also very common.

He gave a nod.

I gave a little sigh. "Please tell me it's not the County of Larium."

The big scout smirked. "Didn't think I'd run into my Landlady out here."

I leaned my head back and polished off the first canteen. Great. He was one of my tenants. Not that Forest People paid rent on their traditional lands, that was part of the concessions they got. Now, if he wanted to do mineral extraction that would involve the County getting a cut. Lumber rights were a whole other mess.

"You're not filing a grievance, are you?"

Lares laughed. "If I had a mine to open do you think I'd be out here guarding this one?"

That was fair. I would have to check what VioletBlood's barony had, but I was pretty sure that even in my mother's duchy the mines did not produce anything quite so useful as the complex to our north.

And that was not even our main source of Samarium, Neodymium, Erbium, and other related minerals. But the Emma Mine Complex was a convenient spot with veins of them all in relative proximity. With the nearby Oraje Refinery, DOS Mijnen was able to supply plenty to the BlackSkyvian and Alecton war machines, with a proper amount going to civil arcane industries.

He gave a contemplative look over the mortar pits and artillery positions. "Small world, eh?"

"Yeah, it kinda is." Visha had been born years before me, in another House, moved to Amber Island, joined the Imperial Legions and then read about me in the broadsheets. I suppose that was one upside to all that embarrassing propaganda, it enabled her to find me in a House of over seventy-two million people.

That meant that Uriel did not have to resort to... creative means to bring us together.

"When we get back, I do wonder..." I looked at my empty canteen thoughtfully. "There any truffles or lobster mushrooms, things like that, in Larium County?"

Lares blinked at me. "You... want to forage for mushrooms?"

"No idea, but some types are really valuable foodstuffs. There's medicinal and recreational too. Depending on the ecology, there might be good assets there. And it'd be nice to have a local who I can trust."

His eyes widened and he looked at me as if I had eaten a mushroom with Psilocybin. "You're a Countess, an Ace Pilot, there's an opera about you, and you want my help?"

"I won't be in the legions forever." I frowned and realized why he was upset: I was being presumptive. "I'm not saying you have to work for me, the offer is there of course. DarkStar's blood, I'd be happy with just some introductions to people you know who are good at that kind of work."

He gave a slow blink.

Right, he had every reason to doubt me. "I am sorry for being such a lousy Landlady. I've been well... a Pilot ever since I got that county. But I assure you I do want to ensure everyone in Larium County makes the most of our bounty."

"With mushrooms?"

"And other assets. But mushrooms, and maybe other game, seems like a safe thing for a Countess to dabble in after she's retired from the Legions."

Shaking his head, Lares took a swig of water. "Sure, why not. I can think of worse jobs. It's something to look forward to, provided we both live out our terms."

"There is that," I sighed.

The big hairy scout adjusted his armor. "I think there's some good Fall Truffles in the uplands of the county. Expensive but not too much. And there's rumors of some Montbard truffles. That's the real money, but pretty guarded. Course you may want to have... who is it that manages things back home while you're out in this lovely place?"

"I have a seneschal and my mother and sister help."

He nodded. "Right, well if you're serious about foraging then you'll want to survey what you have and make deals with the locals, not just my people but the demons and the drow village of Autun. Maybe set up a little guild. There's varieties in the forests, and there's also farming mushrooms. Not all types are good with farming but it's steady production."

I smirked. He seemed to have a good interest, and it would expand my portfolio from just timber, minerals, and manufacturing. "Excellent ideas." I leaned back and looked up at the sky through the netting.

"It's a nice dream, "Lares wistfully said. No doubt he was thinking of home.

We sat in companionable silence for a bit.

And then VioletBlood stomped in. She was in her flight armor but had her helmet off. It bounced from an attachment around her waist. The Baroness' scarlet curls hung limply around her and she looked as worn and ill-tempered as the rest of us. Still, there was an edge of excitement to her.

"Yes?" I asked immediately, pulling myself up to full attention. "What's the status of the rest of the Flight?"

"Visha and GreyDawn just had their maintenance completed and are fueled and armed," VioletBlood eagerly said.

"Good. What else?" Our Ritualista were doing impressive work in keeping our readiness rates high in such a hot, humid, and remote location.

"Quirinus got orders, we're going to be running a strike mission tonight," VioletBlood's tail swished. No wonder the little noble war maniac was so excited.

"Which Flights will be setup with the Lances?" I asked. The Lance batteries that enabled the strike package were powerful weapons but did not have many shots. Often escort would be provided by one or two of the Squadron's flights. Though a Strike-configured RP could fight by itself, so maybe all three Flights would be setup to maximize offensive power. Or maybe the other Squadron at the FOB would be escorting us.

"Current plan is for two Flights in Strike mode and one in Air Superiority running scouting and escort," VioletBlood proudly said.

I eyed her. There was one Flight in our Squadron where everyone was equipped with Gorgon Rigs. Thanks to me. "That would be us?"

"That would be us!"

Lares snorted.

I glared at VioletBlood. "And are you keeping hydrated, Baroness?" I archly asked.

"I am," she nearly whined. "I drank over the worst of the day."

"You should keep drinking, especially in this humidity."

VioletBlood concealed a frustrated little huff.

"If you wanted an easier posting; you should have gone into the Fleet. Think about it; billeted on an airship, with honey cakes and a nice soft bunk," I said with a vicious smile, utterly ignoring my own military career goals.

The baroness muttered something about the Household Fleet.

I shook my head. "What is the target?" That it was scheduled for later tonight implied it was something fixed in position or that command planned to hit as part of a larger offensive package.

VioletBlood glanced about and her tail flicked as she took in the large Scout Auxilia. Even sitting, Lares was taller than she was standing.

"Don't worry about him," I sighed. "While I appreciate your dedication to Operational Security, you can speak in oblique, vague terms."

"Um..." VioletBlood pondered for a moment. "Other reconnaissance assets say they have determined when a supply of... materiel will be delivered to the... to certain separatist elements within Eastern Interior Confederation."

"More Trosic surplus being sent to Diluvian separatists?" Lares scoffed.

Tail flicking, VioletBlood gave me a hurt look as if that was my fault.

I gave her a reassuring nod. "Well, that's something." By Minor House standards, House Crocelli was reasonably well put-together. They had a functional economy, a semblance of civil society, and a military that was more than a source of nepotism and graft.

Being adjacent to a major concession of House Alecto was a factor, giving them plenty of Alecton help, "help", a variety of military and industrial services at... favorable prices, and a ready port to facilitate imports and exports.

However, that was, by and large, coastal House Crocelli. By area, the Minor House was larger than some Great Houses. However, once you got into the interior of the landmass, Crocelli was a collection of petty squabbling fiefdoms. They were nominally administered as Interior Confederations.

"Might not even be the Diluvians," I murmured. Using catspaws, doing back deals, and exploiting generational grudges was a long tradition in this part of the world. Honestly, it was one everywhere. It was just a bit less... civilized in the wilds of Crocelli.

"Would be nice if they stuck to form and just fought the other local broods for who could provide 'security' for the confederation," Lares noted.

"That's bribery," VioletBlood bristled. "House BlackSky would never stoop to paying tribute to house-less barbarians!"

Lares blinked at her before giving me a measured look.

"Why yes, Baroness," I stated. "We don't do that. But our dear allies in House Alecto might be more cynically mercantile in buying off minor rivals."

VioletBlood nodded.

"Where we simply hire various local security experts," I shrugged, my armor shifting over my shoulder. "It's a shame that they are not up to the task and some of their competitors have shown an eager interest in the defenses of both the Emma Mine Complex and the nearby Oraje Refinery."

Lares snorted.

I studied the baroness as she fidgeted. She had been out here with the rest of our squadron and had gone through just as much toil in providing ground support and taking on superior numbers of irregular Ritual Plate Pilots.

"The Diluvians may have been flying second-hand obsolete suits on which they had been trained by mercenaries of dubious origin. But merely having a Ritual Plate was a mass asset to their ground fighters and requires us to respond in kind."

"Dubious? It's Ziox." VioletBlood stated.

"Probably," I agreed. Their assault on my birthday was an expensive shattering for the light Wing they had raised, but our forces had not come out unscathed. And given we wanted to have at least a squadron held at base for combat air patrol and in reserve, it did diminish FOB EmeraldInferno's ability to send out forward missions.

It was gratifying that there were parts of the Imperial Legions who were tracking the logistics trail of parts, tools, fuels, and munitions that were required to supply any military force, but especially one as intricate as Ritual Plate. "Are our spies also tracking their maintainers?" I wondered.

Ritualista took time to train up and while a force could skimp on maintenance for a time... it would rapidly catch up: with reduced operational tempo, underperforming suits, fewer suits, and then no RP force at all.

"It's one of the things we're looking for," Lares noted. "Bit hard to tell just from sight, but sometimes groups moving through the forest have a few tenderfeet you know? Folks more built for fiddling with engraving and enchanting than slogging through the woods. Or they're carrying boxes of tools and parts. Either way."

"It's not like they can use VTOLs to ship them between locations," I noted.

"Could, but we'd notice. And even we can get the sky closed to us." He paused to gauge my reaction.

"We try our best, but there's only so many RP Pilots," I shrugged. As expensive as our kit was and as rare as our talent was, we were always in demand.

Lares chuckled. "Right, only thing worse than being useless in the eyes of the brass-horns is to be useful."

"And the VTOL Pilots and their air crew are in that category. I can't carry any supplies worth a dam but a Load Mistress?"

"She can airdrop a pallet right on the X. Even if it's a tiny forest clearing," Lares agreed.

I nodded and took out another canteen to sip from. My suit had a full internal water supply, but I was saving that for when I got into the air.

There was also the fact that it was easy to hide stockpiles of suits and pilots. It was much harder to hide pilots in the air, especially since there was a Strategic Recon Squadron with a flight's worth of Occultia at the Legionary base by the Refinery's airport.

"They've kept pressure on us, but that seems wasteful," VioletBlood started having some water and a snack of her own. "Even if they knocked out this position. We still have Cohorts of troops by the mine and a whole RP Wing."

"Cuts down our response time?" Lares shrugged. "From here we can stage and supply operations, and deploy patrols more easily."

"Maybe, maybe they wanted to blood their troops, or some foolishness." I suspected that Trosier, or possibly Ziox, had managed to ship a few simulators. Though even that would limit their ability to train for multi Flight operations, let alone as a coherent Wing.

"Some think that way," Lares agreed. "Expensive way to get experience."

"If I were training a guerrilla air force I'd ask for my benefactors to provide a training location outside of my enemy's range or at least not under frequent airborne surveillance," I murmured.

VioletBlood shivered at the word "training". I'm not sure why. When the three Flights of 5th Squadron competed I made sure our Flight always had a good showing. Yes, it required extra flight and simulator time, and I had to get... creative.

However, Visha was an old hand at giving her fellow fliers encouragement and got my Flight and the rest of the squadron to pull together. It's not like I even got the chance to use live ammunition against them. That Telephe Squadron Lance strike passed us well outside the margin of error. And we were completely within the firing arc of that Arachne artillery battery.

I crunched another sugar crystal. I'd also have a plan that would not pit my strength against the enemy's strength. Yes, in that attack they outnumbered the RP assets of FOB EmeraldInferno by three to one. But that was before training, unit cohesion, experience, and operational direction were taken into account.

"They've got the transportation for that." The Diluvians do have motor vehicles. "There's even a pretty good rail network in their territory, if you ignore the sabotage their neighbors keep doing."

"That sounds like Alecto's doing," I murmured. "Still, attacking here would put their strength against ours. That's not the best move for the weaker force."

Not to mention that the FOB had its own scrying systems and multiple mobile Vel anti-air missile launchers. They would have been better off using pairs or Flights of RP as dedicated fire support units for their ground elements. However that was a limited tactic, as such penny-packet deployments would invite a counter-attack from superior air assets.

"Maybe they got war-fever and were all excited from their new weapons?" VioletBlood offered. Of course she would think that way.

But I had to shrug in vague agreement to the possibility. "My worry is that the Diluvians have learned from their costly mistake and are saving their rebuilt Ritual Plate forces for a situation where they felt their firepower and mobility would be decisive. Or possibly they, or their patrons, had scaled back such an expensive investment, and instead had concentrated on infantry arms. Something to more efficiently take us out."

Trosier and Ziox both had man-portable anti-air weapons, and some light vehicular-mounted systems. Loading up Diluvian irregulars with those might be a better expenditure, if they wanted to push back BlackSkyvian air superiority for a local time and place.

Ritual Plate was flashy and had a lot of firepower and mobility in a small package, but the expense, even if you had a patron supplying it, made them wasteful. Unless the Diluvians, or their allies, were planning on building up a real military? If they made a bid to control the whole Eastern Interior Confederation, well... Alecto was very pragmatic in such things, as long as the mine was kept operational.

Though I did wonder if this was not just a squabbling game of "Who gets to skim from the imperial invaders?"

"We're not invaders," VioletBlood testily said.

Oh, I guess that part of my musing was aloud. "They think we are. They think we're Alecto's lackeys. The terror troops they'll drop on their villages and cities and burn them to the ground."

"We are not lackeys!" VioletBlood snarled.

I shook my head. Crazy demons. Though it did lift my spirits a bit to see Lares similarly resigned at her outburst. At least not everyone was mad out here.

"It's enough that they see us as lackeys," I stressed. "People aren't rational. You have to consider their desires and their worldview and knowledge. There's more to battle than learning enemy locations, numbers, and capability."

Looking weary and a bit sweat-shined, VioletBlood huffed. "We know how it goes: we find them, they attack us. We take out their air assets, then go pound them from the sky."

"Probably, but unless the Imperatrix wants to just keep a guard force by the mines until we both muster out, there will have to be some action to address the root causes," I managed not to frown. "Addressing root causes" for an imperial power often amounted to killing everyone capable of fighting you in an area and calling it victory. That is after bribery and vassals failed.

"Maybe just cutting off their supply of air assets will calm things down?" Visha asked as she stepped up to us. Unlike VioletBlood she had kept her helmet on and like me had simply lifted up her faceplate.

My mood brightened on seeing her. Even VioletBlood seemed a bit happier. Though my wingwoman was carrying a sealed carafe that smelled of coffee.

"Ever optimistic," VioletBlood sniffed.

"Without heavy-duty magical and mundane munitions Crocelli's own forces should be able to handle it," Visha said as she first offered the carafe to Lares. "Right?"

Lares nodded his thanks and accepted a surprisingly small amount. Even taking into account his large cup.

"Probably, maybe, at least with Alecto's help," I noted as Visha filled my cup. "How is GreyDawn doing?"

"Submitting maintenance logs to Quirinus," Visha brightly said.

"And how are we doing for parts stocks?" Our standard resupply drop had been delayed for a day.

"Even after that last... intense fight we've still got two weeks of operational capability."

I gave her a steady look. Being an airborne and air assault force the BlackSkyvian Imperial Legions were rather focused on supplies and transport capability. Nearly 15% of active Legions were Logistics Legions. They were eight cohort sized formations of vehicles for airborne and ground cargo transport, with their own organic supporting maintenance, repair vehicles, armor, artillery, infantry, and Ritual Plate. And that was to supplement the cargo and lift capacity of the Household Fleet

"At current operational tempos."

"That is correct, Primus," Visha admitted while pouring some coffee for VioletBlood.

I softened my expression a bit. Our supplies were supposed to be secure. Even with the FOB limited to just BlackSkyvian personnel, our power cells, munitions, spare parts, tools, food, and water were all under guard. If a creative enemy could slip in there was no telling the havoc they could accomplish.

I looked up over the netting and sighed. Military vehicles, including Ritual Plate, were their most vulnerable when they were parked waiting to be deployed, or when being maintained.

Lares tilted his shaggy head. Frowning, his hand went to the large machine gun he carried as his standard rifle.

My tail flicked and I looked at him.

"Pressure's dropping.... Storm's coming in?" he ventured then looked over past the artillery positions. "Yup, clouds."

VioletBlood swore something about her hair and started slipping her helmet on around her horns.

I slipped the foil packet of energy crystals into a side compartment of my armor while Visha sealed up her carafe and Lares policed his ration boxes and plopped his soup pot-sized helmet on.

Just before the sky opened up and it began to pour. The sky had darkened around us as if sunset had suddenly arrived and gotten to its midpoint.

I sighed as fat raindrops bounced off my helmet.

"We should get inside," VioletBlood said after she finished clasping her helmet.

Lares shrugged. "If it keeps up into the night, might be useful." His musing was interrupted by rolling thunder.

All of us, the three demons in advanced flight armor and the immense Forest Person scout tilted our heads. A bit of tension came off us like steam in the heavy rain. It was not artillery, a Torpedo bombardment, or enemy explosives; it was just thunder.

"Yeah, we should get in," I said, relaxing a bit "Find GreyDawn and-".

And then my comms activated. "DiamondDust. Location. Status," Quirinus demanded.

"I have the two Vs; we're behind the hangar looking over the mortars," Slamming down my faceplate, I glanced over the display that lit up. "My Flight is condition green."

"I'm sending GreyDawn to you, get in the air. Now. Coordinates being transferred over now."

"Understood," I swore, hardly noticing as Lares slipped away, doubtless to get to his scouting team to do his part.

++++++

Heavy rain always made flying more challenging for a number of reasons, the two primary ones being that visibility was down and that water grounded magical phenomena.

The decrease in visibility was remedied by navigating with the aid of instruments and with the composite display generated from the scrying systems. Water required dedicated shielding. Ritual Plate was an enclosed system with insulated, isolated power distribution systems.

However, no system was perfect. This meant both that the Ritual Plate's various components were subject to leakage and to the magical, and literal, version of waste heat.

Our heading was roughly southeast of FOB EmeraldInferno. The four of us flew in a staggered diamond formation taking advantage of the higher maneuverability and better response time Polyxos offered to spread out over a greater range and altitude than was strictly textbook. The increased distance between fliers allowed us to make better use of the superior data compositing offered by having four Gorgon Rigs.

It had taken a great deal of effort not to mention political and fiscal capital to get my Flight so equipped; I was going to make use of the tactical advantage provided by our shiny cutting-edge arcane technology.

"Status of Flight 1 and 2?" I asked GreyDawn over the Flight Channel.

She had taken the rear position as VioletBlood's wingwoman, which would help temper my little war maniac. Hopefully. All I could see of the pair from my rear view were the two distortions in the rain-filled night sky, thanks to the effect of the active camouflage system. Said systems did not, unfortunately offer prefect concealment, especially when we were slicing through water droplets at nearly the speed of sound.

"Quirinus' Flight is configured for Strike package and positioning to lend support to whichever target is selected. Mercy's was already sent on a fire support mission."

Great, so that was at least two groups of Legionnaires and Auxilia that had called for air support. And the rain was not helping.

Wards were also a bit mixed in heavy rain. They were an external energy projection and while constantly being hammered by water was technically detrimental; they were designed to resist physical and magical attacks. The net result was that in heavy rain, the amount of power budget to maintain the wards skyrocketed.

At least it was just rain this time. Heavy saltwater spray was even worse when it came to increasing power consumption, given the extra salinity meant that from a metaphysical standpoint there was literal ground in the water. Not to mention that saltwater was corrosive to metal and other materials from a mundane chemistry standpoint.

Which in turn meant that it was also arcanely corrosive. This was why Ritual Plate was not great when submerged in water, especially saltwater. It also meant that for extended Naval operations such as on seaborne carriers or submarines Ritual Plate suits required some modifications to increase their resistance to saltwater.

"Flight Ops. Flight Ops. This is Diamond Flight. Requesting link up with-," I paused to recall the name of the Long Range Patrol. "- Crimson Recon."

"Understood Diamond," the smooth unflappable voice of a Legionary Flight Controller replied. "We have a telemetry update. Connecting you with Centurion Galba."

I approved the update and took in the slight changes to the tactical picture. There was a squelch and the channel opened. "Diamond Flight here. We will arrive in... thirty."

"About time!" A brusque, contra-alto voice said as weapons fire cut in over the audio. "We took out one of their patrols and they called down a demi-cohort on us. Marking targets!" she said before reading off a list of coordinates while transmitting the locations.

I repeated them back to her. Despite the hurry, Galba was more than willing to triple-check an air support run. I switched to Flight channel to confirm the targeting information with my troops then went back to the Recon Centurion. "We're starting the approach."

"Wait until I give the go," Galba was breathing hard and I could hear her grenadiers firing over the connection. Recon Contubernium tended to have a higher number of those arcane specialists that typical formations. "My Auxilia still need to break contact!"

I bit down on a curse. I could understand sending a rearguard to help your own troops withdraw to a more favorable position, and the Forest People did have that excellent, but rare, combination of greater stealth and of greater size and thus firepower.

Jungle flashed below us, the vibrant greenery made into shades of grays by the rain and the false coloring of my scrying suite. Crimson Recon's Contubernium had fallen back to the upper part of a small ridgeline overlooking a river that snaked through the valley. The change in terrain was reduced to a minor undulation by the heavy forest.

"Connect me to your Auxi," I stated, my will adamantine. Our Gorgon Rigs were collating data and despite the concealment provided by the double canopy of trees there was a collection of probable hits and various motions that were likely enemy formations spreading and trying to cut-off Crimson Recon. Thankfully those locations were a close match to the target coordinates

Galba paused. I did outrank her, but normally Legion Fliers providing fire support deferred to Legionaries on the ground. "Patching in." There was a click. "Varro, we've got RP incoming."

"Outstanding!" the deep voice grunted. "Flaccus and I are having a spot of trouble here." A Minerva rotary cannon's firing cut in. Which hopefully was either his weapon or Flaccus's. I confirmed his relative position to Galba and the location of the rest of the recon group.

With those coordinates, I then gave him our approach vector.

"Understood," Varro said before giving the position of the keep out zone we were not to fire in.

"We're starting a Falx run in ten. Walk us in," I ordered. The picture was starting to clear and I was setting my flight on their targets.

Varro chuckled deeply. "If not for these Southern-Sucking excuses for trees, I'd throw out a signal grenade."

"Strafing now," I said, my lips peeling back in a rictus grin.

Four sets of Polyxo Ritual Plate flipped down and went into a descending arc. Following my lead, the rest of my flight put down barrages flanking my own. Orange bolts of energy sliced through the trees to vanish below the foliage.

The scrying intake showed the anti-infantry fire intersecting with many probable enemies.

"North. North. North! One hundred. One hundred!" Varro shouted. When he spoke I could hear the impacts of our arcane attacks in the background.

"Adjusting fire!" I replied and the Falx fire shifted up the slope the enemies had gone down.

"Oh, Desert! They've got a golem. Up slope four hundred. Pilum now!" Varro shouted.

"Confirm." I told him.

"Violet, Grey, fire solution. Anti-armor!" I then ordered. I had no idea what kind of golem the Diluvians had managed to bring with them, but it was bad enough that a Forest Person Auxilia scout demanded an immediate air strike on it.

Heavier Pilum bolts rocked down as large branches started to fall. One must have hit a trunk as an entire towering tree slowly toppled over.

"Keep at it! Breaking contact now!" Varro ordered. "Go Flaccus! Go!" The Forest Person ordered as the two Auxilia made use of the chaos to withdraw. Given their abilities I gave them good odds.

I adjusted my fire further up the slope. "Visha, take their right flank!" I ordered.

My wingwoman complied as we shot past, accelerating to turn and gain altitude. After a quick flip, my Flight was ready for another strafing run.

Yes, Ritual Plate could hover, functionally having no stall speed. In theory, a Flight could park at a high altitude and simply pummel the ground with concentrated fire, but that was an unnecessary risk. Precluding that option was the main reason most BlacSkyvian Legion ground vehicles carried Vel Missiles. The intent was less to hit enemy air assets and more to force them to a greater distance or speed if they wanted to attack.

Hovering bombardment was a maneuver I sometimes took as an Aerial mage. But that tended to only be when lining the 203rd up for a strike on a target without any anti-air assets, such as when we had attacked the capital of the Grand Duchy of Dacia.

Similarly, doctrine allowed for Ritual Plate to slow down when doing fire support on enemies without air power. It was a trade-off between time on target, accuracy of ground attack fire, and risk of being shot down by enemy fire.

Frankly, I considered that the first two could be mitigated by superior training and targeting systems, all without opening one up to a greater risk of enemy fire. In fairness we had slowed down from the dash speed we were at to get here, but that was as much a trade-off between speed and fuel burn as anything else.

"Situation?" I asked, switching to Centurion Galba. I made sure to keep my voice as even as possible. The last thing a hoof slogger on the ground wanted to hear was an excitable, or worse yet, frightened, Ritual Plate pilot.

"Calling in medivac," her deep voice tersely replied. "Varro and Falccus are pulling up but I'm still down two. And I'm sending them out again."

I glanced at my map. Without wounded, a Recon team had a few options. Escaping while air support, my Flight, pummeled the Diluvians was one of the more sensible ones. That would give them time to rendezvous with a Spatha, which would pull them out. With eight legionaries and two Forest People, it would be a cramped fit and the Spatha's operational range would be decreased, but it was possible. That was how they deployed after all.

But if they needed a medivac then their wounded had to get out as soon as practical. Which required a landing under fire, after cutting out a landing zone. Which was why we carried the temperamental Blue Daisy munitions in our Verutum Launchers.

I went to the Flight channel. "Violet, coordinate with Flight Ops. Medivac VTOL is incoming, I won't be surprised if escorting and other assets are inbound too.

That was doctrine as well. Troops and vehicles were vulnerable in transition zones. And landing ops were the ultimate expression of that. Thus the Legions would throw whatever they had to avoid losing a VTOL, getting troops trapped, or both. Because once assets started going down and casualties mounted it was easy for things to spiral out of control.

"I'll coordinate ground fire," I continued before swapping back to the ground channel. "Galba, do you have updated targets?"

"Yes!" She cried, a Vel missile launcher and machine guns going off behind her. "A Diluvian century is trying to pin us so another can cross the river while the third comes in from the side. They've got some self-propelled heavy mortars and are setting up machine guns. My grenadiers have spoiled the flankers but that was just enough to get the Auxilia out."

She passed the coordinates of the main body. "Varro, do you have eyes on the mortars?"

There was a silent click of a transmit button being hit. I suppose I should have some reservations on sending Auxilia troops out to do dangerous spotting, but they were the most stealthy and they only had to see the enemy assets. Though visibility was very reduced given the terrain and weather state

"Excellent," I could just hear Galba's vicious glee as Varro used a keypad to his comms to type out relative position. While the silence was a bit awkward, given the conditions it would have to do.

I split the targeting. VioletBlood and GreyDawn got the main body while Visha and myself took the mortars. They sounded like House Trosier's Gravina self-propelled golem-mounted heavy mortar platforms. They had an internal magazine and could be reloaded from cargo golems similar to our Marius Mules. Trosier mostly used them for amphibious operations, which did mean they could work well with water and rough terrain.

My Flight bent as one and went from our roughly level evasive flight to a steep spiraling dive consisting of complex helical motions. We bled altitude and the grey-false color of the trees shot up towards us.

Scrying intake was overlaid with the target locations. There was some correlation but we were mostly shooting blinded.

"Release. Release. Release!" I shouted. A deluge of arcane energy joined the heavy rain as a part of the forest was ravaged by Falx bolts and another seemingly innocuous part of the forest was hit by a spread from our Pilum projectors.

There was a rumble and then that whole section went up in a ponderous-seeming deflagration as the entire mortar battery was consumed by a cascading chain of explosive as their ammunition supplies cooked off. A whole part of the jungle canopy simply slumped.

"Target hit," Visha calmly stated while I smiled. Water sheeted off our suits as we turned and with a sudden burst of G loading twisted into a wide spiral that would pull us away from the enemy.

VioletBlood was still firing.

"Break. Break!" I ordered. The only thing keeping me from summarily punishing her myself was that she was still in formation. And was thus only expending ammo on a low probability of hit.

I could respect the psychological effect. The enemy did outnumber us, but they had been slogging through the pouring rain in a hellish jungle that was only slightly less painful due to their familiarity. And they had though the hated imperialists were cornered, only for the sky to open up with unseen enemies ravaging them with impunity.

Their heavy weapons were being picked off and the enemy looked like they would once again escape their grasp.

And that's when their anti-air fire opened up and the sky was full of streaking missiles launched from half a dozen positions all over the forest.

++++++

Threat warnings blared and tracks appeared on my helmet display. In an instant I concluded several things: the missiles had some form of external guidance, their speed was impressive though they might have a terminal phase that was even faster, the enemy had spread out a rather large "net" of teams to try and capture whatever RP would be sent in to relieve Crimson Recon.

And finally that our maneuvers had kept us from being fully trapped. Each launch position had fired off about two missiles and was now launching another pair. Which either meant the enemy had fielded a rather large, and well-supplied, team of man-portable missileers or a few light launchers that were holding back some of their capacity. A Vel launcher mounted on a Marius Mule could hold 8 missiles for example.

"Violet! Grey! Aft counter-fire! Visha, clear front with me!" I ordered as I changed our heading right along the river that Crimson Recon had pulled across.

My flight dropped down in altitude and shot to the west. Falx fire from the rest of my Flight spiraled out tagging most of the missiles as they worked to clear their sectors. Making the most of our superior maneuvering and speed, I had us dash at max power.

My wings burned silver as the rainwater started to steam when it hit the feathers. I winced at the arcane bloom of it and put more power into camouflage and veiling. A third brace of missiles had launched and they were using the destruction of the ones ahead of them to get closer.

"Close in! Dive, dive! Visha, follow my fire" I ordered as I switched to my Verutum Launcher and picked the Blue Daisy munitions. These "pebbles" were made of synthetic sapphire grown around a core of silver-edged obsidian. The ruby was laced with gold runes to allow for charging beyond the energy already inside it. This allowed for a higher yield and when detonated would crush the obsidian core powering its one-shot evocation.

The result was a powerful, if expensive, detonation. It had a reasonable overpressure but was limited in ability to pierce enemy armor. And while a Blue Daisy could work in an anti-infantry role, in this campaign it had a more mundane role.

I charged and shot out four Blue Daisies and the munitions vanished into the dense trees in front of me. After a moment I detonated them and the explosions scythed out shredding foliage, but more importantly cutting branches. The canopy slumped a bit and Visha's fire joined in and cut a hole.

It was ragged and messy but it was also more than large enough for us to pass through. Normally cutting a landing zone involved blowing up the upper canopy to reveal the lower one, and then use more Blue Daisy munitions or even Pilum projectors to cut out heavier trunks.

Normally flying in the trees would be nothing more than a prolonged way to commit suicide.

"Follow!" I ordered and zipped through the aperture.

The normal rules were not quite applicable here, because instead of ground below this hole was that wide, but slow-moving, river. To my Flight's credit they adjusted their formation and went through.

GreyDawn launched her own barrage, slicing through the missiles that followed. I glanced at the status display and fought down a slight wince. It seemed that my most experienced pilot had done more than just help VioletBlood in counter-fire. But her systems were still in the yellow zone.

"Where next, Primus?" Visha dutifully asked as we went down the green tunnel. Water whipped all around us as rain poured down and the river sprayed up. Despite VioletBlood's unverbalized complaints I had slowed us down.

My plan was to have us go low, below the treetops, follow downstream and take out the eastern and northern sides of the ground battery crews to link up with the medivac and relief VTOLs.

But... I glanced at the tactical map. "Reverse! We're going upstream!"

"That will take us back to...." VioletBlood trailed off, then let out a malevolent little titter. "Wonderful, Countess!"

Though her bloodthirsty joy vanished quickly when I increased our speed after we changed direction

I switched channels. "Centurion Galba, Scout Varro. We are doing a close support run. Mark enemy positions visually. Repeat! Visually."
"What?" Galba's surprised but weary voice cut in, but she still gave the order to her grenadiers. Meanwhile the Forest Person simply gave a dark laugh.

The sounds of combat came up and we turned a bend as the river split up into a shallow, natural ford. And two whole centuries of Diluvian troops appeared.

Wearing dark green uniforms of a rubberized waterproof material that resembled shorts and stockings with an armored vest the Diluvian soldiers had short carbines and a fair mix of heavier weapons. One roughly-century sized formation was halfway across the river while the other half was still wading across. The other formation was still entirely on the far side giving fire support.

There were broken bodies and shattered trees and equipment strewn about everywhere from our first strafing runs. And Crimson Recon likewise was resisting the vast numerical disadvantage, leveraging an elevated position to put their weaponry to good use against the oncoming enemy reinforcements.

Then four Ritual Plate suits raced in, a bare twenty feet over the rippling water surface. I would like to think that the enemy paused in disbelief at our sudden appearance.

But even for those with our vision the night and intense rain limited visibility. Until several angry red flares were shot out by the grenadiers and they got a clear look at the figures racing in as blurred grey-green shadows.

The four of us opened up with Falx fire. GreyDawn took those across the river and provided the closest support, while VioletBlood pounded the river so hard that parts of the surface started to steam. There was so much water, and it was all moving, that none of the enemy would actually get hot enough to be boiled alive, but I doubt that was much consolation to them as their visibility was clouded and no small number slipped under the water and were trampled by their comrades.

Visha and I went right down the throat of the troops on the far side of the river.

Small arms fire bounded off our wards. A few units had both crew-served weapons and the sense to try to bring them to bear. They were the first ones targeted.

Ritual Plate could hover and I could see the argument where other Pilots would slow down in light of the extremely confined, extremely low-altitude area and count on the sudden shock and terror of the enemy at facing magical armored battle suits. It was one thing to fight Ritual Plate at a distance with your own airframe, arcana, or missiles, it was another when a seemingly impervious suit was right there staring you down with an impassive death mask faceplate.

But I was not other pilots, nor was I flying with a standard Plate jockey. I had a veteran of the 203rd as my wingwoman. I had a woman who had seen everything the Rhine Front could throw at her and walked out the other side with a smile. We had spent two lifetimes as flying combatants. Neither one of us would just stop and stand still in midair to fire.

We flew into the enemy and tore them apart. Those who could run, did. One nice thing about the pouring rain was that the blood that splashed onto our armor was quickly washed off. Maybe a bit too quick for a major physiological effect but I saw enough Diluvian infantry freeze at our forms to know there was enough. We were close enough to feel their courage curdle into fear and boil into naked panic.

We were close enough to feed.

I knew they would regroup and fight us again. Likely quite soon, but pursuing them into the forest when the enemy had had time to regain their sense and set up ambushes was suicidal. A giddy... predatory part of me wanted to chase them down, rip the survivors apart and feast. But I held back.

Besides, that would disappoint Visha.

She had done so much to be here at my side.

At least we had confirmed that they had been equipped with Gravina model self-propelled mortars of House Trosier manufacture. Also that third Diluvian formation was still out there. They had withdrawn from Crimson Recon in mostly good order. From the radio intercepts it sounds like they had pulled through a nasty ambush that only a pair of irate Forest People could set up.

Looking down at the rain-soaked bodies around me, and firing an idle shot at the few stragglers who could still be going for weapons, I wondered which would be more of a visceral experience: having the equivalent of a pair of attack helicopters drop among you, or being hit by a pair of giant, yet invisible, monsters with crew-served scale weaponry?

In addition to decimating the enemy formation, that also allowed the rest of Crimson Recon to adjust their position. I meant a colloquial decimation, not the actual punishment the Imperial Legions technically retained. Meanwhile, Visha and I fell back to VioletBlood and GreyDawn's position.

"Back to Crimson Recon," I ordered, gasping a bit and checking the power and munition status of my Flight. We were getting pretty low, but I considered that a fair tradeoff. "Everyone take some water, now."

"Check fire, Centurion," I said to Galba. "We are coming in to your north, low and slow."

"Confirm Diamond Flight. That was some close shooting there," Galba stated in a mix of awe and resignation. Doubtless she was worried about being saddled with some glory-seeking fools in magic armor, but I hoped my efforts to relieve her position had brought at least some tolerance form the career centurion.

"Yeah, well the sky got a bit crowded up there," I said before switching to Flight Ops and updating them on the situation. Any relief force needed to be made aware.

I paused. I must have miss-heard the recon Centurion. "Crimson Actual, could you repeat?"

"Can you share some of those kills?" Galba stated, a bit of frustration in her voice.

To my great shame, I nearly hit a tree. To be fair, without a river to block undergrowth it really was like flying a thread through well... a forest of needles, "For?"

"I have wounded, and my medic is running low and... meat is meat."

"Meat is meat," I echoed. I exhaled and went to a private channel. "GreyDawn, I need you and VioletBlood getting... supplies for our friendly medic. Our baroness was still a bit idealistic so a dirty job could help her season."

"Ah, yes. That would help." My most experienced Pilot cleared her throat. "You want me to make sure VioletBlood picks the best?"

I wondered if there was a subtext I was missing. "Yes, she can use some experience, and you can only carry so much. We'll be covering you two. Who knows maybe a... snack will help heal the wounded enough that we won't need a medivac," I said with forced joviality.

While we could heal a lot of physical trauma, it was a matter of careful application of life energy and other supplies. That we even had wounded who needed evacuation meant they had to be rather seriously injured. I doubted that even a skilled field trauma surgeon, let alone a medic, could do all that much to get them back to fighting shape, not without a massive infusion of life energy.

But it was important to keep up morale. And if... we had to use some enemy dead... So be it.

"Understood," GreyDawn's voice was tight. With a click then went to the Flight's unit channel, where she was, as normal and was all business. "LoveBlood! We've got a special job from the countess. Do what I say and don't ask questions."

Visha and I kept overwatch as the two went about their work. Under GreyDawn's expert eye, they picked a pair of rather intact enemy casualties and we flew over to where the recon team was.

The only reason the forest we flew through was not burning down was due to the constant, pouring rain, though the grenadiers had tried their best. There was blown-up wood, mangled bodies, carbines, and other kit, all heaped up in a great snarl of pulped garbage. It was not the job-lot production at the river, but there was an intensity that showed a lot of close ambushes and combat. Parts of the fighting had been red in tooth and claw.

No wonder Galba had ordered out for some fresher meat.

I motioned for VioletBlood and GreyDawn to deposit their flopping cargo by an impromptu aid station that had a freshly pulled up tarp over three Legionaries. Two were covered with burns and had sodden bandages, tightened tourniquets, and intravenous lines.

Two hulking Forest People standing guard were kind enough to help move the limp bodies over to the medic. Cracking a bit of my helmet seal, I sniffed the air and found myself thankful that the constant rain deadened smells. Those two hardly had the smell of death on them, though that stink did permeate this whole part of the forest.

I had plenty of experience knowing that corpses could gurgle and even seem to moan when their bodies were pressed. It was a sickening parody of life that had been common in the trenches, though rarely were the noises this lingering.

Still levitating, just enough to be eye-level with her, I turned to face Galba. The Centurion seemed to be lean to the point of all sharp edges and dense muscle. Dark hair was shaved down to a buzz and her horns curled up as she stared at me.

Purple eyes darted to the aid station and she softened a bit. "I won't forget this, Countess," she quietly said.

"It's nothing," I assured via external speakers. Once I saw VioletBlood and GreyDawn had finished I went to the Flight Channel. "Everyone, go up to the tree line. I want some scouting about what's going on, but don't expose yourselves. Just quick up and down."

Only once I had some air cover restored did I let my boots touch the ground with a squelch.

I looked around at the beaten squad of demons and Forest People. I put my arm on Galba's shoulder. "Good job. I'm just sorry we couldn't get here faster."

Her tail flicked. "You got in more than fast enough."

I nodded and turned to look at the weary troops, my helmeted gaze taking them in. They had been out in the field a long time and their munitions were running low but they were still unbroken. "Thank you. But we still have a job to do."

"The Imperatrix has given us a burden to bear." I glanced up. "Fortunately, in her wisdom, we are not alone." I raised a fist. "I have heard from Flight Ops. Relief is coming. It is our job to make sure the other RP Flights find clear skies and the ground troops can land safely."

Gabala nodded. "You heard the Primus, Crimson Recon!" There was a ragged cheer.

"Just a bit further," I assured, the likely lie smoothly slipping past my lips.

End Chapter 11


At least this time Tauria had some idea of the consequences of her upgrade plan.

Also there's been some more art of the chapter showing Tauria and people important to her. Check the relevant threadmarks for them.

Thanks to Readhead for coming up for the Chapter Title and DCG for some of the buisness ideas Tauria and Lares could have.


And special thanks to especially to DCG, Ellf, Green Sea, Readhead, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.

 

In the spirit of:
1) Succubus Dresden's who are loosely tied to their parent Succubus Tanya Story (seriously read WrandmWaffles 's Story Ragged Angel)

2) And well it is April Fools, so why not give a "trick" that's more content, if related.


This takes place just before the first Side Story and showed events leading up to the "invasion"

(If succubus Dresden isn't your cup of tea, I mean this is a Tanya fic... don't worry I also plan to post a snippet of ch12 of Little Demon as well)



+++++

"Chicago was on fire, and it wasn't my fault"
-Halley BlackStone Copperfield Dresden

My tail curled as I looked over the bloodied, battered body of my half brother Thomas.

He was being supported by Lara, one of his sisters on his father's side.

We had rescued him from being imprisoned in the dungeon of the mini castle that was the Better Future Society. Dungeon my frosty butt, it was the remains of my old sub basement lab.

Still... we had got him out, and under the nose of the Accorded Nations. Including the Svartalves who had... beaten him halfway to death. I flexed my hands and managed to keep my claws from sliding out. My brother had attacked the Svartalves under a diplomatic truce in their embassy had almost killed Etri the leader of their mission.

Looking around the exercise room I confirmed that it was all grayed out from the potion I had had us drink, except for the very interesting illusion in the center of a boxing ring. I might have lingered on that a bit longer than I should have. But I had to make sure no one had spotted us.

I had considered Etri a... friend. And Thomas had killed one of Etri's guards, a man I had known. Our kids had played together.

And Thomas had killed him and tried to kill more. And in response the Svartalves had demanded their form of justice. They had not beat him out of cruelty, that would come later, but as a way to reduced him as a threat, to keep his Hunger focused on his wounds.

Someone had forced my brother to do this. Instead of coming to me he tried a suicidal run at a supernatural nation at the seat of their power.

And I didn't know why.

Lara gave me an opaque look. "What next demoness?" she quietly asked with an arch tone.

My horns tingled, even with the spell insulating us from everyone's notice, I could still feel all the people at the Peace Talks, including my Family. They were people who could help, but... "His Hunger's killing him isn't it?"

The Queen of the White Court of Vampires nodded, her blue-black hair shaking. "It's something that can happen to any of us, if we get too hurt, too damaged... and we don't feed then the demon bonded to our soul will start eating us." Her pale features softened. Lara was a monster, a polite and organized monster, given she was able to run the snake-pit that was the White Court, but she did care about her family.

And even after going to a literal succubus city, the capital of a demonic empire, she was still one of the most dangerously beautiful people I knew.

"It's not too late," I stated.

"Dresden, I have seen this before," her voice was sad. "When I used a Favor to get you to help me I had hoped..."

"He's still alive. It's not too late," I growled.


As he held our brother, Lara's gaze slipped to the reception room. Some of her sisters were there representing the White Court. I got the impression that she would have preferred to have a less ostentatious display, for one her puppet Father, the official if figurehead King was not present.

But across from the white silken and silver banners and rich leather lounging couches were the carved dark hardwood furniture and ebony and silver banners of House BlackSky.

Complete with a tasteful if severe group of Alpinum Guard, a collection of Daughters, and BlackSky herself.

BlackSky as tall and elegant in her gold and ruby trimmed ebony gown. Obsidian curls tumbled down her back as vast sweeping horns curled from her forehead. Her tail swishing, she bore the casual confidence in her power that had been there every time I met her.

This was the Imperatrix of one of the dominant Great Houses on her world. One who had invaded and conquered worlds who had Legions and Fleets at her command, but was standing in a small castle in the middle of Chicago chatting with other leaders.

If not for a literal dragon and Norse god were also in attendance. It would be a bit much. Ferrovax seemed to take the whole Peace Talks with a distant amusement. Though the dragon had a few polite, if stiff, words with my Grandmother. There was some old history here.

Vadderung, CEO of Monoc Securities, and other positions, was more friendly with my Grandmother. Which was expected, he was one of the Accorded Nations who had signed off on House BlackSky joining.

The Winter Court of Fae and the Svartalfheim being the other two powers.

Which made the Chancellor of the White Court, Lara, the Winter Knight, White Council Wizard, and an Imperial Silvan Princess, all me alas, breaking a rightful prisoner who had wronged Svartalfheim out of custody...

Problematic.

I knew Mab and the Council would throw me to the wolves if I were caught. But for different reasons. The Council had been looking for a reason to fully kick me out for years, what with the whole Warlock fears, then the working for Mab, and turning into a demon chick. Meanwhile, Mab's feeling was any Knight who was unskilled to get caught doing such a thing was hardly worthy of her service.

BlackSky? Well.. that was the question. I knew she was not about using... reconnaissance troops. Mira was also very inquisitive and loved reading and learning about whatever place she visited.

Also, the last time my sisters came over... well my eldest sister got up to trouble with my brother looking for me: burning a warehouse down fighting necromancers and vampires. And then my middle sister Eve had been meeting with Vadderung and others.

Not to mention the maps of Mira's that I had seen. Maps with arrows and units. And lists of buildings and Landing Zones and other lists.

Grandmother had plans. She had History. And she did not join the Accords out of a whim nor without learning what she was getting into.

I was not sure what she'd do if I wrecked her diplomacy. How far into the whole "Imperial Rome Dressup" did they go?

I knew the Fomor, a united group of exiled and banished monsters that had fled under the seas and had started attacking and abducting people after some fool had destroyed the Red Court, would just love the Accords to Fall to disunity.

Mostly BlackSky was letting DawnStrike play diplomat while her other Daughters, including the two youngest: AshRain and my Mother circulated a bit.

"You want their help?" Lara sniffed.

"I mean... not now... anyway I've got a plan that can keep anyone from tracking Thomas magically that's the important thing." My gaze went back into the room. Mother could help. Yes, Thomas would be a renegade from the Accorded Nations. But Silvana was in another world. Or... if that was too obvious, Mother had other places.

But that wouldn't be Thomas' choice. Not in his condition right now.

And I got a feeling that Grandmother would be more upset with me taking that choice away from Thomas than me violating the accords by breaking him out.

"Right," Lara gave me a look. "At least the dark haired prissy big sister can charm without showing her fangs, and the younger military officer is straightforward in her evaluating everyone as a target. But arrogant flame-haired one just barely conceals her superiority."

I snorted. Her description of DawnStrike, AshRain, and CloudFire was largely correct. At least Felisia was not here she was even more of a Silvan cultural snob. I also knew that any of my Aunts could be perfectly diplomatic, so whatever attitude they were taking was done deliberately.

Not that it would take much acting on CloudFire's part. While they considered the Fae Courts to be respectful in size and having some culture, if alien, and they shared much of the fondness of beauty and craft that attracted them to Svartalfheim and vice versa.

Other Accorded Nations were... well... the White Court was powerful, in politics and culture and finance. They had fingers in many places and were information brokers. And where personally powerful and ageless alluring predators.

But they also ruled in the shadows. BlackSky ruled a nation state that bore her name. Her palace was the tallest building in her capital city. But that was the Accords. There were some signatories who were unique powerful entities like Ivy the Archive of all Mortal Knowledge, or the purely vanilla Baron Gentleman Johnny Marcone, or Vadderung who wore many hats.

Then there the polities which ranged from the Tylwyth Teg a minor, but proudly independent Fey court ruled by Gwyn ap Nudd, a nice guy who enjoyed baseball, to Svartalfheim who were larger and more powerful but mostly isolationist, then all the way up to Winter, which had the largest standing military of all the Fae powers, even larger than Summer's.

"And my mother?" I asked. "What do you think of her?"

"Young," Lara quirked her lips. "But we are out of time. Freydis' distraction will run out." She turned to the illusion of two succubae enjoying themselves in a very creative manner.

Watching the display in the ring, I exhaled and idly licked a lip as my tail swished. As distractions went Carlos was my Plan B. He was my friend; he trusted me. After tonight I'd be able to tell him what he was trusting me for.

Lara laughed. "Oh Dresden. Still Freydis is not bad, even if she overestimated your sexual prowess."

"Prowess! I'm a succubus too!"

"Only biologically." Lara shook her head. "You needed me to seduce a guard for you," she hissed, her voice dripping in shame at my incompetence.

"I had other things do to for the rescue!" I totally didn't whine as I checked that the small glass ampoule was still in my pocket. It could have fallen out or broken when we had climbed down the stone shaft to rescue my brother. And that would have ruined all the work in getting its twin into place.

Lara rolled her eyes. "Come on."

I nodded and the three of us went out of the exercise room and to a corridor, it would take us past the great hall where the Peace Talks were being conduced. And a lot of the Accorded Nations were there.

Powerful beings. Ones that might see through the "Ignore Us" potion I had us drink.

Which was why I had a backup plan. I crushed the ampoule in my hand. The fluid had a slight magical charge and was connected to the fluid that had been in the first ampoule. Fluid that was now on the grey cloak of Warden Ramirez.

Exhaling I made a fist, and gave two sharp, but short tugs.

Over in the cluster of Wardens guarding the Senior Council members Commander Ramirez looked around. He had felt the ghostly tugs on his cloak.

We only had time to setup a simple code. One pull meant failure. Two pulls meant success and he could proceed as planned. Three pulls meant we needed more... active help.

I could almost feel his tension as he tried not to grit his teeth, but he still favored his good leg. We had gone over what I wanted to do we needed a bigger distraction. Five beats after the signal I would use the thaumaturgical link to his cloak in a more... kinetic way.

Carlos trusted me. He was my friend. He knew I was keeping secrets form him, more since my change... my changes. But I had made the effort to get more... open, at least with the things I could. Especially, after we "ran into" each other in New Zeeland, and afterwards I had warned him about the possible Jade Court cells all over North America.

Despite all that, I had lied to him.

I jerked my hand after three beats, not five.

Carlos was a good actor, but not perfect; he had already started to anticipate. But now his surprise was genuine when his cloak went down and tugged far tot he left before trying to wrap around his face and drag him off to the wall. His legs kicked and he swore in Spanish as he tried to get an arm up to stop the treacherous grey cloak.

And that's when all my plans where shattered.

The Fomor had arrived.

+++++++

Lara had taken out brother out but I had to see. This was... I had to know how bad things were going to go.

King Corb, his retinue, and a giant cloaked figure strode into the hall. There was a slight smell of rot to him, above and beyond the damp fishy malodor common to the Fomor

Ramirez had recovered and stood with the wardens protecting the Senior Council. There was a guarded expression of dread on Ebenezar's face. Mab and Molly stood with the Redcap and four other Sidhe. Mother and her sisters had fanned around BlackSky.

My grandmother's poker face was more reserved than my grandfather's but she was up there with Ferrovax and Vadderung on the kind of blank-faced concern that was worrying.

Corb and his Fomor and human flunkies seemed to relish the silence.

BlackSky caught Mab's eye and my grandmother's tail curved ever so slightly.

What she was about to do next was interrupted by Corb striding forward, chains rattling, and contemptuously lobbed a small item.

It was the smell of rot. It was a small decaying severed head. Its age was hard to tell, it was waterlogged and depending on where it was stored the putrefaction could have been accelerated or retarded.

It was the King of the Tylwyth Teg, Gwyn ap Nudd, a sovereign of one of the larger Faerie subnations. I could like to call him a friend. At least we had done business, and he still sent me Cubs tickets once in a while. The Billy Goat curse was his doing. After my... change we had met a bit more. The Tylwyth Teg were one of the nations that seemed open to House BlackSky.

Nowhere near the level of Winter or Svartalfheim but they were less... skeptical than the White Council. But from what I had heard the tentative negotiations had trailed off.

Shock went through the room.

Even Vadderung looked like this was, if not wholly unexpected, then an unpleasant development.

Except... BlackSky's gaze swept the room and fell upon me. It was a brief instant but I got the feeling of negation, of patience. Well, at least my magic potion had me beneath most people's notice.

Her Daughters were still tense but there was almost a release.

I thought to the notes and maps that on reflection, Mira had left for me to find. Maybe she learned that trick from Thomas. My stomach clenched, recalling the maps of the city, my city covered in arrows and little boxes in blue and red.

And there Mira was in her prim black skirt, jacket and bustier, at BlackSky's side, being an unobtrusive aide. She was too professional to even give me a glance, but I knew she could sense me. It was hard to hide from a psion of her power.

They expected a betrayal.

Okay, the rulers Accorded Nations were not naive. They knew the Fomor could not be trusted, but they were also part of the system. They prepared for betrayal, but still thought in terms of their game.

Even the war with the Red Court took a while for the Council to realize that the Reds were not playing by the rules of war.

But even the Reds were not this proactive. This particular incarnation of the Accords may be new, but the UnSeelie Accords were built on centuries and centuries of tradition. Many of which, like the rules of hospitality: such as not murdering the host's bondsmen or presenting the severed head of a severing signatory predated the accords and were woven into the whole culture of how these supernatural nations interacted with each other.

But House BlackSky was not part of that tradition. Oh, Homeplane demons had their own rules on guest-right, but...

And I realized what Corb was going to do, what buttons he had to press on Mab. How he was going to get under her skin.

My Mother's expression was utterly calm, but she had edged closer to AshRain. The next youngest Daughter. The Legatus.

Her eyes black, Mab stared at the head.

BlackSky did not move from her position, but I could tell she was trying to will the Queen of Air and Darkness to... to at least notice the as-yet silent cloaked figure.

The room plummeted in temperature, ice formed on every metallic surface and started to rime the floor. Except for the areas around Ferrovax and the demons. I had to concentrate on my own spell to keep myself from being noticed.

But I was the Winter Knight, I was a demon comfortable with ice.

Mab's hair and gown swirled with darkness until they turned ebony, almost as dark and glossy as BlackSky's "Explain yourself," her whisper carrying in the hall.

The Fomor swaggered a step closer. He sneered, his bulging eyes mocking, ever movement coldly mocking. His velvety, malevolent voice started. "A peace gi-"

"A declaration of war," BlackSky interrupted.

The room became dead silent in that. The attendees were no fools, they knew the rules were being broken tonight, but they still had some hope that the grandstanding was...

Empty Night, even I had hope. But... I was starting to see why my Family had a reputation for bellicosity.

Hatred boiled off of him, but Korb renewed his sneer. "Ah, the whore speaks."

"Coyness does not suit you." BlackSky's tone was light but her dark eyes narrowed. She looked up to the cloaked figure. "Or shall we continue the charade that the murder of the guard outside and presenting a severed head is not some prelude to a greater conflict."

Mab spared a tiny glare at her. It was a bare fraction, orders of magnitude lower, than the hatred she had for Corb, but it was still enough to cause me to clench up as my tail curled up.

The demon empress smiled. "Perhaps you will order further murders. That's how this goes, right?" She turned to give Mira a questioning look.

Shrugging, the librarian adjusted her glasses.

"That is why you brought your minions into the hall?"

I noticed Korb's goons had started to tense their hands on their suppressed weapons.

"Meddlesome whore," Corb spat. "This is not your fight. This is between me and a past her prime woman."

The Fomor flicked his hand.

And everything was, briefly, kinetic.

His men moved, maybe a dozen suppressed weapons made their popping and chugging noises. A handful of the caterers and servers in the hall dropped. But as they fell all of the Fomor gunmen also dropped.

While the staff fell in cries and screams of bullet wounds, the gunmen died silently, with little gurgles. It was bit hard to tell with their turtlenecks but each looked like a hydraulic vise had grabbed them by the back of the neck and squeezed.

Hendricks' meaty hand kept Marcone from getting out of his seat while Gard stepped in front of him hand on her axe. The big redheaded bodyguard and the blonde Valkyrie were concerned with keeping their mobster boss alive.

A muffled cry of shock and horror came up from everyone, nearly everyone: guests and Fomor.

The Guests because they were guests.

Again it was House BlackSky's representatives who instead of reacting with shock and outrage had readied themselves.

The Fomor because.. they did not expect to take losses. "Who killed my men!" Corb screamed.

And I resolved never to play poker against Mira. The mild librarian aide had not sunk into the background, she was not trying to hide, she was not being unobtrusive, she simply was unobtrusive. No one noticed the admin retinue next to the demon queen.

She killed over a dozen armed men, maybe not quick enough to save all of Marcone's people, but she saved maybe two-thirds of them. And did it right under King Korb's nose.

No one noticed her. No one thought to look at her.

She was doing with mental training and body language what I was doing via magic.

Mab slowly rose. Her hair, eyes, and nails were now all a deep obsidian that went past my grandmother's look, with an even paler shin as white as the Pale Horse itself. "You dare. YOU DARE! YOU ARE A GUEST IN THIS HOUSE!"

"Read your own laws, woman," Corb sneered. "The Hirelings were no members of a house, vassals, nor lackeys. Chattel at best. Meanwhile someone murdered my lackeys." His bulging eyes scanned the room.

"Take your wereguild, little man," he absently said throwing a velvet bag to where it landed before Gard with the clink of metal. "It seems I overpaid," he gave a mocking laugh to cover his disquiet at losing minions this early.

"But before we get distracted who do I thank for such a... display?" he asked idly kicking a vertebrae-crushed minion.

The chill in the room grew as plumes of frost came out of tension-tight faces.

BlackSky's smile reveled her fangs. "Please, do lodge a complaint with the other signatories. Perhaps with the patron of these Accords."

"Leg-spreading bitch," Corb frothed as he turned to Mab. "What say you old woman? Will you let more make a mockery of your club? I remember the pimply-bawling brat who rode with the Conqueror. I remember you weeping when Merlin cast you out."

Mab...

She ignored any warning subtext from my grandmother, from Ferrovax from Vadderung.

Mab boiled with ugly, naked, absolute rage. Her body turned utterly still and rigid.

"What do you think?" Corb purred. "If he were among us, would he love you still? Would he have pride of what you've become?"

Reality seemed to twist as Mab suddenly appeared standing within an arm's length of Corb, a laser-straight line of frost between where she had been to where she was now.

Mab hissed. "Your maggot lips are not worthy to speak of his name."

"There's the true you," Corb purred "You're still alive inside all that ice. Gather power all you wish, old woman."

Mab's rigidity resumed.

"Call upon the whores if you think it helps," Corb cackled. And where is the head of the other whores?" he asked, looking over the White Court's space.

I hoped Lara was nearly at the Marina with Thomas.

BlackSky simply let her gaze pass over Corb.

"You're not offended? Maybe the name fits," he purred. "Maybe you intend to pay me back via trade.

BlackSky's smile returned. "To take offense requires you to respect the other party.

"Respect," he spat. "Then you should simply fear, whore."

"I do not fear the dog when I know how long of a chain his mistress put around his collar." BlackSky's smirk was small but present.

Corb's anger grew.

BlackSky nodded. "Ah, so you respect my opinion." She looked at the giant cloaked figure expectant.

Cord's froggy eyes stared daggers. "Is this your defender old woman? Whores, vultures and interlopers?" He returned to Mab with glee. "You know what allying with demons will do. But... should we be surprised? You know who you were, and so do I. You were a scared little mortal. You were no one. You are no one."

A very human-looking fury twisted Mab's face, and that terrified more than I'd been in a good long time. Her lips snarling, she was about to speak, but her eyes widened as her focus shifted, her gaze tracking up the chain that was around Corb.

An immense bronze and crystalline fist held Corb's chain. The cloaked figure was just as fast as Mab. One moment she was three yards beyond Corb, the next there was a thunder crack.

It was impossible to tell what happened with any sensible timeline. I think the cloaked woman kicked. Defensive energies beyond anything I could comprehend formed around Mab. The kick went through them all. With the thunder came the scream of shattering stone.

The wall behind Winter's seat had a coffin-sized ragged hole. As did the wall behind that. The Queen of Air and Darkness was nowhere to be seen, though I could just barely feel her presence.

Once more the room was stunned into silence.

Slowly, with deliberate drama, the figure peeled back her hood.

Made of bronze and crystal, the woman was beautiful beyond mortal reckoning. I had seen royals of the Red Court in their finest flesh masks, shadows of Fallen Angels at their most tempting, the glamour of fae royalty, the sharp lethal beauty of Angles of Death, the allure of the White Court and the Imperial Family of House BlackSky.

All lacked... something when compared to the woman before us. Her long slick hair was like silken silver. Her figure was of giant scale but perfect proportions.

But her eyes... Well it was one eye.

One eye was a crystalline emerald green.

The other...

Mutilating features of bronze perfection were bulging, granite-like scars around a mangled orbital. The lids were closed but they bulged as if the eye inside was considerably larger than it should be.

Energy throbbed around her. Something ancient, terrible, primal. It was something that demanded obedience, adoration, terror. It was from a time forgotten. A time when blood...

Before me was a goddess.

My breath caught, I felt rooted to my spot.

The room moaned in terror and adoration.

One of the voices was mine....

Until a warm, familiar presence cut through. I blinked.

With more clarity, I noticed Vadderung and Ferrovax had came to their feet fists clenched. Instead of glaring at each other their adamantine stares were at the woman.

The goddess' cyclopean gaze swept the room. She took in each face. The Winter Lacy got a withering look of pure contempt that came to the rest of the Accorded nations. She gave just as much distaste for House BlackSky as she gave the others.

She spoke....

If not for the help of Grandmother, with probably a bit of Mira's abilities thrown in....

Even with the protection it was a hot bath and warm soup on a cold day. It was chocolate and sex. My tail swished despite it all. Her voice promised things; it compelled; it filled the room.

"Children, children," she murmured. Her head shoot in disapproval. "The world has gone to the children."

BlackSky's grin became knowing.

The goddess looked past her to Ferrovax, cheek twitching. Her gaze then went from the dragon to Vadderung. Her teeth, white and perfect showed. "One-eye. Are you still in the Game? Does your arrogance have any limit? Look at how you've fallen. Consorting with insects, as if you were little more than mortal yourself."

No one spoke.

No one moved.

From BlackSky it was... expectant. It was hard to read her. If she was scared she was not letting it show, but the mocking expression with Corb was gone. Here, she seemed wary. But she was also watching the others, seeing who would react.

And then there were steps on the stone floor, and the demon empress gave a tiny smile.

Gentleman Johnny Marcone stepped out from the unwavering Gard, impeccable with his suit. He had to be frightened. Afterall, unlike me, he had no ancient demon giving him mental protection.

But he did not show any fear. He simply strode forward clear from his guards. He stepped around a bloodstain where one of his staff had been dragged away by the other survivors, and around the body of a Fomor gunman with his neck flopped in an unnatural angle.

"Good evening, madam. I am Baron John Marcone. This is my home. Might I have the pleasure of knowing how you with to be addressed?"

The goddess narrowed her eye. She watched him with the revulsion that came from swarms of maggots or things you found underneath rocks. She dismissed him from her attention and went to Vadderung again.

"This is your host?" her tone was demanding. "At least the half-breed demons have a spark to them. But you permit a mortal among you? What of dignity? Of pride? Has the world gone this astray?" she shook her head.

"We have failed it. And I will no longer fearfully huddle in the seas and stand by as the mortals turn it into another filthy hive."

She stared down at Marcone. Circling him, she shook her head in judgment.

My grandmother looked across the room to my grandfather. Ebenezar pulled out of his shock to give the demonic empress a dark look. Other than that no one moved.

Without looking at the dragon, she pointed to Ferrovax. "Introduce me to this ephemeral."

The silence drew on, but Ferrovax eventually spoke in ragged voice as if every word was being pulled out with a tooth. "This is Ethniu. Daughter of Balor. The last Titan."

Ethniu lowered her pointing finger. Ferrovax gasped, staggering, putting a hand on his chair to balance as he breathed heavily.

BlackSky's expression did not change, not really. But it seemed that her aloofness withdrew a fraction as she became more calculating. Her Daughters were figuratively under the protection of her wings, like chicks in a rainstorm. But they were also... distant.

They had a plan. A titan was a matter of grave concern for them but not... not unexpected.

Stars and Stones, what had they planned for? What could Four Daughters, BlackSky and a handful of guards and librarians do? Though knowing them... nothing the Titan would expect.

Ethniu continued, addressing the room. "Manifestly, this world has failed. You thought banding together was wise? To live quietly. To embrace--" her lip sneered-- "civility. And with the mortals that used to tremble at the tread of our feet?

I would have trembled pretty hard right now. I didn't know if I could make a voluntary motion. I was not sure which was worse, that my grandmother's grace would keep me from doing something... rash, or that she would let me.

Ethniu began to pace slowly. "I have stood by doing nothing for too much of my life. I have watched holy place after holy place fall to the mortals. Forrest after Forest. Sea after Sea. They dare to walk where they were never meant to walk. As they do, the divine retreats, withers dies."

I got the mental sense of, BlackSky's head tilted slightly at that first bit. As if that part of Ethniu's history was "useful intelligence".

That emerald eye fell upon me. It was like a mouse being studied by a tank. Immense weight pressed upon me, studied me, then dismissed me in a moment.

"The mortals grow more numerous, more petty, more vicious, all while fouling the world we helped created. Their filth, their buildings, their machines."

BlackSky took in those last two points with the quiet satisfaction of someone doing a jigsaw having two corner pieces fall into her lap.

Ethniu stopped by King Corb, almost fondly like to a pet, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Tonight. This ends."

"Does it? Or is it merely the beginning of the end?" BlackSky's question sounded earnest.

Ethniu turned to her emerald gaze transfixing her.

"It's a logistical question. Do you plan to burn the entire world, setting back billions of scrabbling, squirming to a more tractable state?" the demon's smile was all fangs. "Or, do you plan to sow fear and hatred. Bring the mortals low on critical locations to start a conflagration that will have them tear their own hearts out."

BlackSky took a couple steps forward to stand near Marcone, her wings and black gown trailing behind her. "Far be it my place to intrude on someone else's apocalyptic rapture."

Ethniu seemed momentarily taken aback.

"Even with the most powerful of weapons... the strongest host," BlackSky gave her smile to King Corb. "Killing that many mortals. Even if they are cowed and prostate. Well.. eventually, your minions' sword arms will get tired."

Various emotions played against the Titan's face, Ethniu decided to go with disdain. "You mock me half-breed? I know your kind, you refugees from the pit."

BlackSky gave Marcone a small shrug. "It seems her plan has already addressed such issues." And I got the feeling that now BlackSky had all four corner pieces.

"So you say," the mobster deadpanned.

BlackSky was a tall woman, but Ethniu loomed over her. "You saw what I did to the cold queen, little demon."

BlackSky gave a genuine sigh. "I saw a tantrum, a loss of face at breaking the rules."

Ethniu sneered. "Yes she does like to think she's in control. This is not your fight half-breed."

BlackSky looked at the other Signatories. "This is not my world. Shall you burn it?"

Ethniu nodded. "And I have no interest in your petty domain. You, however, are too late. You will not pick over these wasted shadows. They are mine."

Giving that same sharp smile, BlackSky stepped back to her Daughters.

"Yes, flee back to your little home," Ethniu chuckled.

Corb roiled with indignant range.

"Give them no mind," the Titan assured him. "The half-breed tries to mask her fear glib sycophancy."

Dismissing the demons from her mind, she strode to Vadderung and dropped to one knee, so she could speak eye to eye. "I remember what you were. I respect you, because of that I assume you see some redeeming value among these..." her hand encompassed the room. "Children. Given that respect, I offer you something I was never given: a choice."

I was not sure what the puzzle my grandmother was making but she seemed nearly finished with it.

The Titan looked around the room. "I offer it to all the divine here.... and the infernal, if I must. Tonight, at the witching hour, we who you thought defeated, banished, fallen, humbled... we will march upon the mortal world-- starting wit this fetid hive around us."

Her smile was glories and terrible. "Finally."

BlackSky blinked and made the smallest motion of her chin and tail. It looked like even she was surprised by what the completed jigsaw puzzle looked like. AshRain and DawnStrike also gave tiny motions. Those had to be deliberate tells. Or else Ethniu's statement was so out of line that even their composure cracked.

I studied my aunts, my Mother. They were silent and tense, and fear came off them, but I could feel more... there was a.... disbelieving... relaxation.

BlackSky said it at the start, this was a declaration of war. She expected a fight here and now. That the Fomor would strike this castle in force.

Immediately.

Not... in about four hours.

I thought back to the maps full of arrows and the charts with their neat rows of blandly stated destruction. Time... the Titan was giving them... time.

The demon's reaction was ignored. Vadderung was speaking. His voice was raspy as if it took great effort but his tone was strong.

"Ethniu. Do not do this. You have no idea."

Something much like pity crossed the Titan's face. "I remember that you were once great," her voice was quiet. "For the being I remember, I owe you this one chance: Do not interfere. My quarrel is with the mortals. Stand aside, there need be no conflict between us."

She gestured to the hole behind the high seat. "That creature cannot protect you. She cannot enforce her justice. Each of the divine must choose: abandon the mortal world-- or burn with it."

I swore under my breath. Why did grandmother have to be right? Why did it have to be burning?

Ethniu's closed eye quivered. Suddenly there was light behind the scarred eyelid. Red, pulsing through the thin skin. She leaned back her head, took a breath, and opened the Eye, screaming.

The scream deafened me. I had an instant to curse my demonic hearing, but it was far, far more painful than just that. The scream pressed into my mind. It was emotion so violent and intense that to let a piece into my mind would shatter my sanity.

Light burst from the Titan, lashing out and through the ceiling. Whatever it touched rotted and flaked away, fabric decaying and the edges bursting to flame. Previously unseen runes and sigils carved into the stones of the castle throbbed with a blue glow.

A castle's worth of magical defenses stood against the power of a goddess.

They failed.

Stone became dust. The energy from the Eye exploded upward through the ceiling, and the floors above, before blasting through the roof into the summer night. Magical energy came out in a wave of such power and intensity that it had seemed impossible.

Even when compared to the works of the Merlin on Demonreach, the cold, disturbing artifice of Serenity the First, the channeled power of BlackSky. This.... this was more than all of those.

More than anything else when Ethniu released the Eye was when things started to change. Both in her actions and those taken in response.

Magic was rampant, it howled over the streets of Chicago. It was a typhoon of raw power. And everywhere it touched... the mortal world sank into darkness.

Power systems failed. Transformers exploded. Electronics screamed and died. Demonic... well infernal... images and sounds screamed out of devices before they failed. Trains went powerless, cars sputtered and slammed into each other by the thousands.

Planes... O'Hare was one of the busiest airports in the country. Several passenger jets landing or taking off fell out of the sky, their engines out, their control surfaces dead.

The city was consumed by total darkness.

It was a miracle that my potion was still active, though that magic was inside me...

I was on my knees making pained sounds.

I was not alone.

The room was light by firelight. So we could still see.

The last Titan, and King Corb were gone.

I looked over and saw Vadderung as he fell heavily back onto his chair. He looked stunned. There was something... foreboding but... something else to his expression. I followed his gaze...

BlackSky was helping Marcone to his feed. My grandmother gave Gard a respectful smile and evaluated her Daughters, aides and guards.

Seeing they were all getting back up, BlackSky nodded.

There was a moment that stretched out. She was their Empress. They would follow her whatever her order. If she decided to take Ethniu's offer and leave this world to its fate, they would, though Mother would probably protest and request to stay at my side.

If BlackSky decided... well whatever the other option was...

"Dawn, can you do it?"

DawnStrike gave a thin smile. "Yes, it would be my pleasure."

"Go, light the Beacon."

The dark-haired Daughter bowed her head and strode out of the hall before anyone else could speak.

I turned back to Vadderung. He was stunned, he was shocked, but there was resolution there.

+++++++++++++


For half a minute the hall was silent after my aunt quietly left.

Gentleman Johnny Marcone took in the room. "It would seem that Imperatrix BlackSky is correct. The Fomor declare war."

Ebenezar was up after the Mobster and the demons. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Not from this. My men took out their wounded before..." Marcone shook his head. He offered a hand to Molly, the Winter Lady.

She glowered but took it. He suggested she attend Mab, and they briefly talked about what was on the other side of the wall the Titan had kicked Mab through.... and the wall beyond that.

Together, Etri and his sister stood up. Voices raised in confusion and anxiety. As everyone began to recover, everyone realized how bad the situation was and the tension grew.

Except for River Shoulders. The giant sasquatch watched us all with a distant expression. He was not good with crowds and his sensitivity must have made this a special nightmare to him, but he bore it with stoicism.

And House BlackSky. That side of my family had formed into a loose huddle and were having a conversation that had few words and was mostly quick gestures and expressions. Given Mira's presence I wondered how much of it was telepathic.

Carter LaChaise and his ghouls got up and headed towards the exit.

Marcone confronted them as they tried to leave.

His tone was bored and reasonable. He did not accuse LaChaise of cowardice, merely inquired, and then blandly reminded of the mutual defense stipulations in the Unseelie Accords.

"Mab was the Accords. If the Titan can swat her aside, what chance to any of us have?" He looked around the room for support. "Do you think you can stand up to Ethniu and Corb? You can throw your short life away if that is your desire, mortal. The rest of us were doing business long before these recent Accords, we can do so again. Tread carefully mortal, for the accusations you make, unless you would want your own entrails to be used as sausage links."

He gave a crocodilian grin. "Besides, all of us signed out of fear to Mab."

"Not all of us, ghoul," BlackSky stated stepping up to a pace behind Marcone. "And based on actions you take I will happily declare you a coward. And we shall see who makes sausage out of the other."

LaChaise quivered with rage. "The newcomers," he spat. "This isn't your fight."

"Apparently, it's not yours either. I have no use for undisciplined cannibalistic rabble."

Twisting to face both of them, Marcone's voice cracked out. "You are guests, Sir, Madame. In my house."

BlackSky bowed her head. LaChaise was held rigid in place. He turned to see the rest of the leadership of the Accorded Nations starting at him.

"Baron Marcone is correct," Etri of the Svartalves said. "We are all signatories, we are all obligated to come to Mab's defense."

LaChaise worked his extended jaw. His voice hissed and snarled from that. "Your people bleed from a mere White Court Assassin. Do you think you can challenge a Titan?"

Etri looked at the ghoul as if he were simple. "Not alone." He nodded firmly to Marcone. "Svartalfheim does not make commitments lightly. We shall stand in defense of the city."

As Marcone returned the nod, I noticed that BlackSky had slipped back to her group.

"Fools" LaChaise sighed. "This is hopeless. The enemy has given free rein to prepare. We have mere hours to assemble our own forces."

This time I could see the look of disbelief on BlackSky's face. I was reminded of a lesson about fighting Warlocks I tried to teach new Wardens... well back when they let me teach new Wardens. If you gave a Practitioner, any Practitioner, but especially the more powerful and experienced ones, time to prepare, they became at least an order of magnitude more dangerous.

The ghoul continued. "Assuming there is no spoiling attack. Do you think Corb means to fight fair?"

"Obviously not." Marcone shared a look with BlackSky. "That makes me consider that he is not invincible-- otherwise why not simply attack? And avoid all of this.... drama. He is attempting to divide us, make us easier to defeat one at a time. Defeat in detail as you would say Legate?" he asked AshRain.

My aunt nodded to him with a thin smile.

"And the Titan? Do you know what it is that she was wearing?" the ghoul demanded.

"Titanic bronze," Etri noted. "An alloy beyond the skill of even my people. A secret only known to the Hundred-Handed Ones."

The small grey-alien-like man paused before explaining. "Mere physical force will never stop her. The most puissant of power stand any chance of doing more than annoying her."

"A problem to be overcome," Marcone looked to Cristos. "Perhaps our clever friends of the White Council have a solution."

The oily but stentorian wizard Cristos looked to Ebenezar. The two of them exchanged looks with the other Senior council members.

As they had a brief conference BlackSky summoned my mother and the two came over to Marcone and Etri. "My daughter BloodMist has a unique set of skills that may proof useful. She is educated and experiences with energy resistant materials of both mortal and arcane manufacture."

Etri looked the pink-haired demoness over.

"Mother has a wide variety of assets that we can call upon, perhaps something could mitigate this alloy's protections," BloodMist, my mother, offered. "Or perhaps bypass it, like a tank shell that kills the crew without piercing the armor."

"I doubt we could hurt the titan by making the inside surface of her amour spall off and turn to shrapnel." Etri chuckled but he looked thoughtful.

"I'll need to know some estimates as to what damage and attacks it can take. Any information on density and thickness, of the crystalline structure of the metal. Of what enchantments and if there was any alchemy in the manufacture," Mother's voice was eager. This was her element, and a material as adamantine as Titanic-bronze had to fascinate her.

"I can provide some of that, but much of what we know is myth and conjecture," Etri admitted, sharing a bit of her enthusiasm, one crafter to another.

Wizard Listens-to-Wind had gotten up from the huddle and came over. He nodded to BloodMist. "We have some ideas. And welcome help in overcoming her protections. regardless, we stand with you and will bring a compliment of Wardens to the city's defense."

"They have ideas," LaChaise scoffed. "The wizards and the demons have ideas." He looked at the rest of the room. "What does this city, what do these mortals, mean to you? I say let the Fomor spend their strength on the mortals."

"Idiot," Ferrovax snapped. A plume of thick volcanic-smelling smoke plumed out his nostrils. "You know the mortals. Once they are awakened, frightened, angers... they will lash out at any supernatural threat they can find. And remember, LaChaise, you do not have the luxury of dwelling beneath an ocean the mortals have barely explored. Or living on another plane of existence," he said to BlackSky and the Fae Courts.


"The wurm is right," Vadderung exchanged a nod with Ferrovax. "We must stop Ethniu here and now. If a mortal city this size is sacked, there will be no way to contain their rage."

BlackSky gave him a look as if to say, "Nor should they." At that moment, DawnStrike returned to the hall and gave a curt nod to her mother.

Vadderung exhaled. "Foolish and blind as they are, they are many, and full of the courage of ignorance. Business as usual? No, there will be war. And Ethniu and Corb will sit in their palace under the sea and laugh as the rest of us try to survive."

He sad the last giving BlackSky a steady look. As if gauging which way she would go.

I wondered myself. This was not her world, but she had expressed... annoyance at the secrecy of the Accorded nations and how they treated humans. Which made a sort of sense, short of Winter and maybe Summer, House BlackSky was the largest Accorded Nation.

In a war against the supernatural... would she take the side of the... mortals? I knew her spies and agents were doing more than making maps and studying technology and documenting assets.

Would the mortal powers accept their help?

House BlackSky were demons, overtly so. However they were also a nation-state in their own right. I glanced over at BlackSky.

I could see her offering weapons designs, knowledge. Things that would augment mortal soldiers.... and would make the fight far worse. Though maybe with a bit more focus...

BlackSky looked around the room with that confident smile and for a brief moment met my gaze. And I recalled that part of the reason her empire had its... reputation among its enemies was not jut their own capabilities, not just things like what BlackSky did after DarkStar's death, but that BlackSky was more than willing to trade with allies.

The empress then looked to Vadderung and gave a quizzical look.

And my stomach churned, for all his words.... Vadderung... Odin, liked to prepare for every contingency. If it came down to it which side would he come down on?

"And how is dying in a foolish battle an improvement?" LaChaise acidly, asked. "If Mab cannot stand against Ethniu then what can any of us do? What weapon do we have?"

Marcone's stare indicated he considered the ghoul a simpleton. "Courage. Skill. And will, Sir," the robber baron of Chicago said before turning to Vadderung. "I desire to contract every available Einherjaren for a night."

"Five hundred can be here in the next few hours," Vadderung stated.

Nodding, Marcone looked to the king of the Svartalves. "Etri?"

Breaking off from a conversation with my mother, the Svatelf steepled his fingers. "My people are more artisans than warriors. We shall fight-- but our assistance with defenses and providing equipment will be a greater boon. Baron, our armories are open to you."

Marcone gave another nod and regarded the dragon. "Sir?"

Ferrovax nodded thoughtfully. "I must be subtle. Otherwise would risk destroying more of the city than I save."

Vadderung gave BlackSky, who had pulled back a bit to chat with Mira, AshRain, and DawnStrike, a flat look. The demons had seemed to pull back a bit.

"With Etri's consent and consul, I shall bar the underworld to them, preventing them from moving though or beneath the earth. One-eye?"

Returning his attention to the others, Vadderung nodded slowly. "I will close all the Ways within the city itself. After my troops arrive in the city," he amended while BlackSky gave a tiny bow of her horns.

"That will leave them with only one angle of attack: the water," Marcone stated.

"Aye, their power is greater beneath the waves. They'll bore though any defense beneath the lake."

"We will deploy our forces against an attack from the lake," Marcone was resolute. "I will bring the full strength of my own organization here."

There was a polite cough. Or as polite of a cough as could come from the giant, hulking form of a sasquatch. It sounded like demolition charge. Pushing up his wire-rim glasses, River Shoulders adjusted his bow tie and stepped forward.

"My people are not yet Signatories of the Accords. However, if my understanding is correct, what is happening here has the potential to bring great harm. I stand with you."

Wizard Listens-to-Wind laughed he gave a broad smile. "Be good to work with you again, River."

River Shoulders winked to Listens-to-Wind. River was not one to rush into things. And a Forest Person who meant business was one of the most dangerous things to go up against.

"What of the White Court?" Ebenezar asked. "Where is Ms. Raith?"

My tail stilled. Sending her off... might not have been the best move. But we had to rescue our brother.

A confused murmur went up, and eyes fell into the White Court's section of the hall.

Only Riley, the head of her mortal gaud force, was there to speak. "Ms. Raith is attending matters of state. I have sent a runner with orders to bring her forces to combat readiness. A hundred guns plus whichever members of the house are in residence at the chateau. I will need her authorization before engaging, but I know when will want her forces staged here," he said, his voice steady.

I could see why my elder sister liked him.

"Transportation, communications," Marcone stated. "If anything that hex Ethniu threw was more effective than others I have seen at destroying technology. We are going to have difficulty reaching everyone and bringing them together."

BlackSky looked up from her work with AshRain and Mira. She gave a curt nod then faded to the background almost as well as I had. Mother was busy making notes and giving Etri the occasional question.

Svartalves were master crafters who coveted beauty in all its forms. That was part of how my brother had been able to get close to them... before he, for some reason, decided to try to assassinate Etri.

Still, the Svartalves valued their commitments, and had found in House BlackSky a group of other master crafters, these of unearthly beauty and allure. In her way, my Mother was quite tempting to them.

Now a cough came from the far end of the Hall. The Summer Lady had been consulting with her security team, including the Summer Knight. Sarissa's hair was now a cloud of white silken strands, over a dress that was leaf green. Not that I could see that given how the blending potion I drank made everything shades of grey to me.

She and Molly looked a scary amount alike. Almost like twins. I knew... well that wasn't relevant right now. That was Old-Man Harry's problem.

Looking intensely uncomfortable, Sarissa rose. "I can help with communications. The Little Folk are well suited for those tasks. Perhaps the roof of this castle as a command center? Or at least an easy access point for messengers."

Molly slid out of the whole behind the high seat with a rustle. "I've been handling transport for Winter troops for some time. I can bring more in, as long as I know where they need to be."

"Excellent," Marcone said as he motioned for some of his men to escort a few of Sarissa's people up to the roof to get started.

Watching all this BlackSky gave a smile that had pride. As if she was impressed with how he was making the best of what he had. Afterall no one else had taken the lead. Yet.

"Communications are the place to begin," Marcone stated.

"A centralized collection of our military assets as well," a ragged voice said.

Mab pulled herself out of the wall. She had been broken, literally. Half of her had been crushed and mangled as if some industrial accident. Her motions were jerky and too-quick.

There was a hideous cracking noise as she snapped her broken shoulder into place, it rotated unnaturally in its socket. Her skin was dimpled like aluminum sheeting subject to hail damage.

Her gaze tracked around the room. LaChaise avoided her eyes and looked as if he wanted to flee. Tilting her head, BlackSky shifted to move a bit closer.

"Queen Mab," Marcone respectfully said, as if she was not slowly snapping her body back into place. "It would be good to know what forces the Winter Court intends to bring to the city's defense."

Mab stared at Marcone and then BlackSky for a moment in silence. "My second informed me as of one hour past, all the forces of winter are required elsewhere. The Gates are under intense attack."

My guts lurched at that.

The Outer Gates were... they were the boundary between reality and... the Outside. They were way, way out in far Nevernever. Beyond was Outside, elemental chaos, beyond creation. The things in there were the Outsiders. Their hunger was eternal; their desire was to devour all of reality, mortal and otherwise.

It was no coincidence that the Outer Gates were under attack now.

Ethniu had to be in league with the Outsiders.

That meant a few powerful entities thought the Accorded nations had to be destroyed. BlackSky was right, this was a Declaration of War, perhaps more broad in scope than even she had implied.

Few in the room got what Mab was saying, but those who could translate her statement knew it very clearly. Vadderung, Ferrovax, the Senior Council, Etri and a couple others looked as queasy as I felt.

They had to understand, what was at cost here.

Clearly, so did someone else. BlackSky strode forward. Her dark gown almost turning to its full colors even with my spell.

Mab concluded her quick request to Fix, the Summer Knight, to warn Titania Queen of Summer of the situation.

As Fix bowed and withdrew, Mab turned to BlackSky. There was... something to her eyes.

"Ah, apologies for not getting to our newest, member," Marcone paused and nodded to River Shoulders. "Signed member, I should say. Do not worry, I fully intend to endorse your people's petition into the Accords."

"As do I," BlackSky stated.

"Imperatrix. This is not your world, but you are a signatory."

"My Granddaughter also styles herself as the protector of this city does she not?"

Marcone twisted his face. "Indeed."

"If I may ask, Queen Mab, where is the Winter Knight?" Ebenezar's tone was clam and respectful. Mab did not react well to aggression nor weakness.

"She was last seen consorting with Ms. Raith," Mab's tone was offhand.

"When I was last informed, they were organizing and procuring assets that may prove critical in defense of the city," BlackSky added.

I frowned. Did she know I was going to my island? Both to stabilize and secure Thomas and to gather powerful artifacts. There were things there, things I had burgled from Hades' vault that...

Deamonreach was also a prison for powerful supernatural entities. That was a secret few knew. I was its Warden. I was not sure if I could get Ehtniu close enough or if I was strong enough to defeat her, but.... that was an option.

How much did BlackSky know? And how much was her guessing that I, as a wizard, would be gathering such things.

Either way, both BlackSky and Mab knew I was hear. Hence both the Queen and Empress' carefully phrased sentences.

Ebenezar's expression hardened. "Ma'am, Ma'am, with respect. I will need to coordinate with... her, the sooner the better."

Mab gave him a cool gaze. "Provided her Grandmother had no duties for her, I will send her to you."

"Excellent that we have cleared that up," Marcone's tone was dry. "Imperatrix? I dare not presume, but you and your Daughters have been working your own plans. Would you care to indulge in sharing?"

BlackSky held up a finger. "A moment's indulgence please."

Perplexed silence grew in the room. Nearly a minute passed.

And then Vadderung, Mab, and Ferrovax all looked to the sky and then to my grandmother. I could see a flashes up through the hole in the ceiling. And I could feel something like a ripping or popping but magnified and then blurred by distance.

There were boot-falls as one of Marcone's men ran into the Hall. He was gasping, at his side was a Sidhe of Summer. The fae noble looked as shocked as Marcone's mercenary. Both talked about how the sky opened up and hundreds of airships of varying sizes suddenly appeared in a flash. Many were... only a few hundred feet long, but in the mercenary's estimation there had to be dozens at least a thousand feet long.

They were illuminated just long enough for the fae, who had better eyes to declare that demonic forms flew out of each and every one, their broad wings having them circle the great ships as they turned dark and moved in near-silent formation.

The room's entire attention was upon BlackSky.

And the demon empress smiled. "Accorded Nations, if you'll bear with me, I shall explain what forces I shall contribute."

+++++++++


I had gotten used to the hall falling silent in shock. Mira and AshRain had gotten even more busy, as were the other daughters, but their tones were hushed. And they seemed to be talking with whoever was on the airships.

"Imperatrix, I trust these are your forces," Marcone said in the casual tone he had managed this whole evening.

"Apologies for the delay in their arrival, there was... interference on getting them through. Thankfully my daughter was able to project a beacon for them to lock onto."

"It would seem that we are not the only ones who intend to close the Ways into the city," Vadderung said. He gave BlackSky a one-eyed gaze. He was not surprised by this. But there was.... concern.

"You said you would explain?" Ebenezar gave her a gimlet look.

BlackSky's smile was broad. "I did. I did not want to bear false hope... if they could not arrive, but they are here."

She looked around the room and caught everyone's eye before ending on Vadderung, Marcone, and finally Mab.

"Escorting is Task Force Nibelung consisting: of the Heavy Carrier HFV Valhalla, the Battlecruiser, HFV DarkStar, and various cruisers, destroyers, light carriers, corvettes, patrol boats, and fleet screen."

An incredulity spread among the room. Not that they disbelieved her statement, but that... the Accorded nations were supernatural nations. But many were , with few exceptions, small in population. And even master craftsmen like the Svartalves were not as big into mass production.

The Fae courts of Summer and, especially, Winter were different. They had large populations, and large standing armies. Winter's forces were massive, but they were tied up at the Gates. That said for all their power. Winter did not have carriers.

Vadderung and Mab were not among the confused in the audience. However, Vadderung was a bit taken aback by the Valhalla. I suppose it was for the best that grandmother brought that ship instead of her sister ship the Avalon.

From his raised eyebrow, I thought he was flattered.

For the others, ironically their experience in carriers and Battlecruisers came from mortal means. They had no idea about Ritual Plate, or the magical Fujiwara Aerial Torpedo.

However, some, such as Etri and Ebenezar seemed to be concerned at the name of DarkStar.

Not for my older sister's actions here a few months back. But for the story of DarkStar. The legend of what BlackSky did to House Vephar to avenge her. And here was BlackSky with a warship named after that lost granddaughter.

Ever since the Invasion, many Household Fleet vessels bore the memorial name. Though the current Kanabo Class Torpedo Battlecruiser was the last named before my sister was rediscovered.

Still, it was a fitting name for that crazy redhead. The Kanabo Class is more agile than the lumbering battleships, and still has well over a hundred Torpedoes and a squadron of Torpedo Boats or since they were flying were they Bombers? There were warships with more Torpedoes, and ones with more Torpedo Boats, but few with the relative agility and speed.

"That is a generous contribution," Wizard Cristos allowed. "Air support is a critical asset in battle, and perhaps this can help our mobility issue."

"True," BlackSky agreed. "But Nibelung is an escort force. Their role is to help protect the Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet. Though that I bring you Corpus Incursio Reliance,"

She gave a small chuckle. Latin was the official language of the White Council, and was spoken by many of the other Accorded Nations. And Silvan Latin was close enough to the variants for them to translate the bellicose term: Invasion, or Incursion, Corps.

"I bring six Legions. Four infantry. Two armored. And their supporting artillery, Ritual Plate, transports, and landing craft." BlackSky gave a pause and tilted her head to Mab and Marcone and Vadderung. "That is if you'll take my help."

LaChaise managed to find his voice. "You brought armor."

"Yes, yes, three dozen battle tanks, four dozen infantry fighting vehicles, six dozen light tanks," BlackSky paused. "And oh yes, over two dozen of some new infantry support guns."

The ghoul stared. "You have that all up on those... blimps?"

"The lookouts said there were hundred of them, and that many were over half a kilometer in length. I dare say that's enough to move literal legions of demonic troops," Marcone stated. Despite his outward calmness, I could see that he was a bit shocked. The mobster was as aware as anyone else that this was an invasion force. Maybe small to hold the city, but as a first wave?

"Forty thousand legionaries. Not counting support and Auxilia," BlackSky agreed. "My staff will explain our capabilities and how we can integrate our forces."

Which was more than her being polite. Marcone's, Lara's, and even Vadderung's men, might be in the far minority, but they had local knowledge. That information was invaluable in a battle.

Marcone gave a slight bow of his head to her and then gave everyone a sharp look. "Does anyone not want to accept House BlackSky's contribution?"

An unease fell upon the room. The Fomor were coming in a host capable of sacking Chicago. Even as crippled as the city was from Ethniu's hex, that had to be tens of thousands of Fomor and their levies and servitors about to swarm their way up from the water.

And now coming from the sky was a demonic invasion force. From a pure numbers game...

"Winter graciously accepts the help of its ally," Mab stated.

"Excellent," Grandmother's tone was dry, as if there could be no other choice.

Ferovaxx exhaled but kept his peace.

"Is it still hopeless LaChaise? I said we have Courage, skill, and will." Marcone glared at him.

The ghoul huffed. "And what of that Eye of hers? You saw what it did."

"The Eye of Balor," Etri said in a low hush. "It is a weapon of extreme power. In her hands it will cause mass destruction. It is a concentrated malevolence that will unmake. Combined with titanic-bronze, and her own abilities, Ethniu will be extremely difficult to stop."

"Another thing to consider and overcome. We have clever people and stock of our assets," Marcone stated.

"My troops are about ready to deploy, I will speak to them before they drop," BlackSky stated.

More confused silence went in the room as the demons immediately busied themselves. They had restored communications and got into contact with the fleet. The other Librarians had split up and were talking with the other Accorded Powers. A few guards and one of my aunts left the room and went up to the roof.

Even Mira who stood still and flicked her fingers with a very far-away look.

Among the non-demons, there was a sense that the world was not operating the way they had expected it to.

I had seen the expression multiple times, mostly on vanilla mortals getting their first, normally horrifying, exposure to the supernatural world. Seeing the leaders of the Accorded Nations having such a reaction was...

Understandable to be honest.

I knew some small bit about the Fleet and Legions. And had seen at least some of their units, if basically just a capital garrison force. Sure, I had seen First Home Fleet and other assets in the sky above Silvana.

And even I was a bit shocked. A force like this...

Many of the supernatural leaders in this room looked like they were afraid they were going to face an invasion on two fronts.

"Imperatrix, we are connected; all Fleet units reporting," Mira said as she lifted her hands as if to frame BlackSky between her thumbs and finger tips. "Transmitting... now."

BlackSky shifted her stance. Looking every bit the regal, imposing demon empress.

She stood such that Mab, Marcone, Vadderung, and Summer were behind her. Her black gown had gained some silver thread and she wore a red gem at her neck.

"Corpus Incursio Reliance, Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet, Task Force Nibelung," she announced, her voice strong, carrying to the heavens. Where before she had spoken with a total confidence, now she projected.

I noticed she was still speaking in English. Maybe Mira was translating for her, maybe the Legions could understand. Maybe Mira was adding subtitles.

"We are going into Chicago to protect, not to conquer. We will not fly our Imperial Banner in their city."

Her gaze swept the room, swept her fleet. I was almost pinned as I got a brief wash of her attention, and the potion that kept me beneath notice almost failed. In a way it was worse than Ethniu, for all her power she saw me as a bug and dismissed me.

BlackSky expected me to rise to the occasion. To be vital tonight.

Her tone sharpened. "Now, there are some who are alive in this moment who will not be alive shortly. Those of you who do not wish drop to the surface, we will not send them."

"As for the others, I expect you to make the enemy regret ever crawling up the beach!" She clenched a fist. There was no spark of flame, no flash of power. Just her will.

"Wipe them out if that is what they chose. If you are ferocious in battle remember to be magnanimous in victory."

Her tone sobered. "For a young people, Americas have more than their share of history. They are the custodians of the same Roman civilization, the same wisdom as ours. In two centuries, they went from a colonial backwater to a super power. You tread lightly here. We are here to help them fight a foreign invader."

Her lips quirked and she seemed to take in the Accorded Nations. "You will have to go a long way to find a more tenacious people. They are not helpless, and they are not without allies. You will be shamed by the sacrifices they will make to protect their loved ones. Their generosity when they have nothing puts us to shame.

"Do not treat them as refuges in their own country!" Her eyes were hard, adamantine, brokering no dissent.

Marcone almost bowed his head at that.

"When you find causalities of this war, remember when the citizens of this city got into bed, they did not plan to die this night. You will treat them with dignity in death. If you must bury, bury with due reverence, and properly mark their graves."

Mab's expression flickered a bit and Marcone looked thoughtful.

"The Fomor, the Mad Titan, will not grant you the same courtesy. Their aim is slaughter. Every last woman, man, and child. This cannot be allowed to pass. We are here to support the UnSeelie Accords; we are here because my granddaughter, Dame BlackStone has called for aide; we are here because it is right.

"The Fomor have abducted and killed in the shadows for years, now they think they can attack in the open, that they can sack a city, all without consequence." BlackSky grinned flashing her teeth to the waiting Legions.

"They have no idea the Hell that is to rain upon them." Her voice was calm, but there was steel there.

I frowned. I had read the history, some of it, and the legends, some of those of BlackSky...
I understood why she was more than willing to take Ethniu and Corb's insults. She was not dismissive of their power, but while they were belittling her, she was studying them.

She had prepared a counter to their betrayal.

Vadderung's grin looked wolfish. I was certain that he had an idea as to what was coming. It turns out he did. He was about the only one who knew what was coming. Who suspected that House BlackSky would bring more than one Task Force.

I had seen the maps full of arrows and diagrams. Ones that in retrospect had been left for my benefit. Again, not the first time someone had used that gambit for me.

I knew no plan survived contact with the enemy. I doubted when my paranoid Grandmother and her people suspected betrayal on the Fomor that they had planed for Ethniu and the Eye, but they had planed to fight the Fomor. And probably a bunch of other powers, but it was the Fomor did not have a blatant history of treachery.

And now all the sneaking and "recon" my sisters and Mira and others had done in Chicago all made sense. House BlackSky was learning, getting the measure of their potential enemies, preparing.

They still had yet to actually fight the Fomor, but at least they had considered the question. That was more than the Fomor had done, who I doubted even knew what a BlackSkyvian Legion was.

Ethniu and Corb were utterly dismissive of BlackSky when they made their entrance, and I know understood why my grandmother took their venom with such unflappable grace.

I could imagine Cohorts, Centuries, thousands of succubae in their uniforms, putting on their armor watching the display of BlackSky, their pulse quickening as they heard her. Pausing in their assembling and checking of equipment and munitions as they boarded the swarms of waiting landing craft.

"It remains my foremost intention to bring every one of you alive, but there may be those among us who will not see the end of this night. And we will we send them up to their ships for burial on the homeplane, but there will be no time for sorrow. We will grieve for them later. This I swear."

A bit of fear went up on the fleet, I knew even the most experienced would have fought in countless battles, but still a deployment on this scale, on a new world, there was trepidation, and the desire to not disappoint. The Fomor was an untested enemy. Ethniu an unexpected rival, the Eye an incomprehensible weapon.

They saw this as my city, as Dame BlackStone's and they were here for me, because these people were dear to me. My eyes widened as I realized this was not my imagination. I was just as much on this call as every other succubus in the Fleet and Legions.

BlackSky's tone was cold. "The enemy should be in no doubt that we are their ruination, and we have joined the other defenders of this city to bring about their rightful destruction. But remember, it is a big step to take another life, it is not to be done lightly." She exhaled.

"I know of women who have taken life needlessly in other conflicts; I can assure you they live with the Mark of Cain upon them. We fight in a city, a city full of people who wanted no part of this war. I know your Mothers won't want you to let them down."

"We will stop a mad god, destroy her army of monsters, go home safely, and leave Chicago a better place for us having been here."

I could fee the full measure of her power going through Mira and up to the fleet.

"Good Luck. Commence Drop." BlackSky ordered before the connection severed with Mira's shoulders slumping. For a moment I got the mental feedback of dozens and dozens of their fancy VTOLs, of their dropships, launching: all sorts of heavy equipment and troops descending into the night sky.

BlackSky stepped to her and put a hand on Mira's arm. "Thank you. Come, we have a battle to attend to," she said as she turned to AshRain.

I then managed to pull myself out of the room. I now had even more reason to get my brother out of this mess and go to my spooky island and retrieve those holy weapons.

Damn, crazy demons.


End opener.

And this is just the start of the "Battle of Chicago" project.
I've got ~40,000 words written on it so far. And when it gets more to it. It will be its own thread.

But since this segment was the Side B of the previous Side Story I figured it would be good to show *why* Tauria was part of a force that was invading Chicago.