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

For her actions in her second life, Tanya is rewarded by being reincarnated into the world of the Diyu Great Houses. Powerful demonic, polities, the various Houses bicker, plot, trade, fight, and jockey for position. Tanya finds herself in an orphanage in the city of Bovitar in House BlackSky's Eastern Province near the borders with their libertine rival House Luxon and their small ally House Andromache.

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House BlackSky is one of the largest Great Houses and is surrounded by rivals and potential enemies who fear their aggression, organization, and power projection. To the north is the even larger House Elena, to the east is the slightly smaller House Luxon, across the sea to the south-west is the naval power of House Trosier, and to the northeast is House Ziox. BlackSky does have allies: to the east is the mercantile naval power of House Alecto and to the north, east of Elena, are the smaller but strongly allied Houses of RedStorm and Andromache. Diyu is a world of powerful empires who have leveraged their innate abilities and talents applying magic to an industrial scale, which they have bent to war.

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Tanya is one of these Diyu demons; an all female species who had been artificially created as slaves and soldiers who revolted against their masters and fled to this realm where they grew into the squabbling Great and Minor Houses. The experiences of her previous two lives guiding her, Tanya tries to make a life for herself.

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This story can stand on its own, but it set in the same narrative verse as the Return series which can be read here and here. More setting art can be found here. The informational and media tags can also be explored.

A Dramatis Personae can be read here.

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(Apologies for most of the links to supplementary information going to Space Battles, that just happens to be where much of that information is stored.

Book 1: "What Comes After"
Prologue: Victory
Chapter 1: Hail Imperatrix
Chapter 2: Allegro with Aplomb
Chapter 3: A Night at the Opera
Chapter 4: Silver Wings (First combat heavy chapter)
Chapter 5: Birthday Blowout
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Chapter 6: See the World
Chapter 7: Meet Interesting People
Chapter 8: And Kill Them. Part 1
Chapter 9: And Kill Them. Part 2
Chapter 10: Reunions, Family and Otherwise
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Chapter 11: Run Through The Jungle
Chapter 12: Dangerously Petite Pirouette
Chapter 13: Command, Control, Reconnaissance, & Revenge
Chapter 14: Verbum Vincet (Beach "Episode")
Chapter 15: One with the Sea
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Chapter 16: Pride and Punishment
Chapter 17: Mandatory Mentoring, Rivals and Reunions
Chapter 18: "Old Acquaintances and Uninvited Guests" Part 1
Chapter 19: "Old Acquaintances and Uninvited Guests" Part 2
Chapter 20: War by Other Means

Book 2 : More than a Shadow
Chapter 21: Officers and Obeisance
Chapter 22: Simulations and Secondment
Chapter 23: Cat's Cradle
Chapter 24: Adversary Anticipation
Chapter 25: Smooth Sailing
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Chapter 26: Inclement Weather
Chapter 27: Tempest's Roar
Chapter 28: Landfall
Chapter 29: Recall; Recuperate
Chapter 30: Info Hazard
Chapter 31: REDACTED
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Merry (belated) Christmas (This originally was posted a few days after that holiday as a bit of a rushed surprise)

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Prologue: Victory


No matter what happened next, no matter the burdens, no matter the indignities, I would forever treasure the look on Being X's face when I jabbed my rifle's sword-bayonet into his guts and pulled the trigger.

Putting me there where I could hit him, where I could kill him, took everything.

I promised the men of the 203rd that we would win no matter the cost. With a self-declared omnipotent creature like Being X pulling the strings, there was no way the Empire could win the war.

In the end, the cost was less than I expected. Visha and Weiss would be able to get the survivors back... well... back home. I gave Major Weiss specific instructions to blame me for taking the 203rd battalion and the rest of Salamander without orders - though with the way the war was going, defecting instead might be better. If I were an optimist I would think the Empire could still turn it around. And maybe they could, but they would have to try without me.

And without Being X interfering.

After acquiring vital weapons, we had picked up the trail up north, not far from where I'd won the Silver Wings Assault Badge. From there our pursuit had gone south west.

To the Rhine. It had no longer been an active combat zone, but it had still borne the scars. I hated that place. I hated the nickname I had earned there.

So of course that was where Being X had made its stand with its puppets.

Letting out a ragged breath, I fell to my knees. My rifle and its long bayonet clattered to the concrete but I didn't care. I put a hand to my chest.

There was no blood.

My eyes widened and I scooped up my rifle and stood. My computation orb - I had modified the cursed one that Being X had forced me to use - flared and I was ready to take to the air.

This wasn't the mud and broken terrain of the Rhine area.

This was a train station. It was the train station.

I had died here. The first time. A man, unable to react to being fired with any degree of rationality and proportionality, had pushed me onto the tracks.

And that was when Being X had first interfered with my life. He had not taken well to me debating him on the points of worship and the desperation required for it. And, in a fit of rage, Being X decided to force me to his way of thinking.

The station was empty. There were no people to act as his mouthpieces and certainly no people in the train or on the tracks.

I looked down the rails; they went off into the distance. But once they were past the station they were the only thing. Everything else beyond the platform itself was a white void. Looking behind me, I could see the stairs that went down to street level but they ended in the same void. To one side was a black glass door that I did not remember, but it had been years since I was here.

I tensed and a bit of worry hit me.

I had beaten Being X. I had put into it all the power of my computation jewel, the sword-bayonet I had purloined from a Unified States depot in Albion, the research I had taken from Doctor Schugel, the modifications to the Type 95. It was a gamble, a glorious risk.

But a calculated one.

"Be not afraid," a man said in a calm voice as he approached. He wore a familiar blue jumpsuit and was pulling off a white hardhat. His hair was pale blond and his features were elderly. The lettering on his hardhat and suit marked him as working for a garbage collection service from my childhood.

My first one.

"Who are you?" I kept my rifle pointed down, but ready. I realized that I was no longer in my torn, bloody flight suit but instead in my uniform, and that my computation jewel was no longer a molten chunk of slag.

He gave a warm smile and pulled off a pair of gloves and put them into the upturned helmet. "I must thank you."

"Eh?"

"Few are willing to adhere to their principles in the face of overwhelming power. Being X, as you called him, tried everything to defeat you. He treated not just you but billions of souls as playthings." The man's voice hardened. "That was an utter affront. Rectifying and rebalancing it has been an immense task, and I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long."

I paused; I had just woken up in the train station, right?

"How do you know that name?" My fingers clenched and I saw that the blade on the end of my rifle had regained its silver sheen.

The old man smiled. "How do you think?"

"What are you, some other being? I knock off Being X and you step in and claim that, no, you're the real God?"

An uncompromisingly stern expression crossed his face. "No, I could never claim that. No. I am a simple servant. I clean around the edges and restore the balance. I ensure mortals have a choice. That they can freely associate, made decisions, and use their Free Will. The idea of a being extorting a soul with 'pray or die' offends my very core."

I gave a skeptical snort. That was more my style of cosmology, but I had not spent years fighting Being X to be taken in by some new being. "Right, where was your help when I had to spend a new life as a girl?"

The old man quirked an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at the blade.

"Lovely, well, thanks for the help. Are you going to make with the psychopomp thing and tell me what my afterlife options are?"

He laughed. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."

"But who are you?"

"Ah." He bowed to me. "My name is Uriel."

Ingrained lessons in protocol from a lifetime ago had me return the bow. I will admit, claiming to be an archangel was less egotistical than claiming to be God. "You will have to pardon my caution, Mr. Uriel." As a show of good faith I shouldered my rifle.

"Understandable."

"If you'll forgive me for asking, why didn't you intervene against Being X, If he is so antithetical to your values? While I appreciate your stated position of valuing choice, I do wonder as to your actual actions."

"I am limited in my remit."

I tilted my head. "By your superior?"

The old man gave a wry smile. "You could call it that. It is more accurate to say it is fundamental to my nature."

I let that slide for the moment. On the one hand, saying "that's not one of my duties" is a classic excuse of shirkers. On the other hand, to have any organization, groups have to have some adherence to order - my own actions in taking my battalion out to kill a god notwithstanding.

"In what ways did your remit allow you to act?"
Uriel nodded. "In balance."

I motioned for him to go forward.

"Ah. If one party violates the rules regarding interfering with mortal souls, then I am authorized to act in an equal manner, thus restoring balance while giving the opportunity to exercise choice. Free will is the greatest gift of mortal souls."

I gave a half smile. "Mr. Uriel, you need not flatter me." Though if Uriel were correct that would mean my initial supposition that Being X was not god but instead was some sort of demon was correct. Though Being X had also complained that administering the reincarnation of seven billion souls was beyond its capacity, which was worrying on several levels.

Uriel shook his head.

"If I am getting it right, Being X interfered here." I gestured to the train station. "And caused me to reincarnate into a new world and this body." I gestured to my petite, feminine form. "He also interfered with Doctor Schugel which gave me..."

I looked down at my quad core computation orb. The cursed thing gave me great powers, but I had to pray to Being X in order for it to work to its fullest. And that came at the cost of a lack of... mental clarity. Though we had managed to turn that into a liability for Being X.

"You arranged for me to get that big bayonet. It was no Unified States project to take out Mary Sue when she inevitably went rabid."

Regret crossed his face. "Hers was a troubled soul, consumed by revenge and grief."

"Yes, yes, add her to the list of lives ruined by Being X."

The archangel, if that was what he was, gave me a cross look.

I held up a hand apologetically. "I'm not being flippant. As another plaything of that bastard I can sympathize, and I do hope you can do something for her."

Uriel sighed, seemingly in agreement.

"You know, you could have given me a bit more help; my men took... well, the casualties could have been worse. Sure, putting a sword-bayonet into Being X was the most satisfying thing, but-" I swept my arms around the train station, "clearly I didn't make it out either."

Uriel gave me a look that was sympathetic but also somewhat disturbed "The point of the Sword is to give the wielder a chance against the darkness. It does not make victory inevitable, only possible."

"Worked out great for you, then. Being X is gone; you can help all the people he wronged."

"As much as I can."

I waved a hand. "Yes, yes, we do not want an Archangel getting too creative. That probably leads to negative externalities." I knew enough theology to know that Satan was once the brightest among the angelic host.

Uriel seemed to agree with to that.

"Now, if we presume I trust all that you are saying, what will you do with me? What would you consider to be a balancing act?" A bit of hope fluttered in me. Maybe I could go back to early twenty-first century Japan. Maybe I could go back to being a male.

Many of the organizational and decision-making skills I had learned as an aerial mage for the Empire could be applied to the corporate world. After surviving the Rhine, building up and leading a rapid response battalion, and developing combined arms tactics, dominating the corporate world should be trivial.

"What do you think I would do?"

I tapped my chin in thought. Sincere or not, Uriel was at least more pleasant than Being X to converse with. "Your remit is to provide balance when another violates the rules, and that Being X's interfering with my first death was a violation; then you would be free to execute a proportional reaction."

He gave an encouraging nod.

"However, you also state that you value free will and mortal choice. This implies that if there were multiple options available then I would be given the opportunity to pick one."

"Sound reasoning." Uriel agreed.

"What are my options, then?"

There was a heavy chugging noise as a train came down the tracks. I had not seen it appear and for a moment I tensed, fearing that Uriel would push me in front of it. Instead, the train stopped at the platform.

The doors opened. It was empty.

"Take the train and you'll ride it out to the end of the line."

"End of the line?"

"What comes after. Judgment."

I frowned. From his tone there was not any more I could get out of that option. I might not have been the best of people. I had done things to survive in the War, and done more to ensure my men did as well. The more of them that lived, the more bodies I had between me and the enemy. And being a better commander made my superiors feel more favorably towards me.

Also preserving my troop's lives was a nice counterpoint to the idea that I was some bloodthirsty warmonger who cared not a whit to casualties.

"It is an option," I agreed. In its defense, destroying Being X had to be worth something. Though that hardly seemed like balancing the scales given what Being X did to me.

"Next is working for me." Uriel gestured to the black glass door in the wall behind us. The glass turned translucent and I saw an office full of white uniformed men and women working about. A few had feathery wings.

"Like some sort of guardian angel squad?"

Uriel gave a slight smile. "Not quite. But you have proven your capabilities and I can always use those with your talents."

"How long of a hitch?" I asked.

"Until you're ready for one of the other options."

I tapped my chin. Interesting. Depending on the workload, doing jobs for an archangel could have its upsides. Though it sounded like it would instead be delaying the real choice.

Still, Door Number Two had advantages. Maybe I could learn more about the system. My work could improve my odds of getting a good result out of Door Number One. Though, this option didn't have Uriel balancing the first violation Being X did to me.

And that was a heck of a marker to leave on the table.

"It has its advantages. And Door Number Three?"

Uriel pointed to the stairs. "Take those and you'll be reborn. You will get the chance that Being X denied you."

I managed to keep the smile off my face. "That does seem to be the most equitable of options. Can I have a moment to think?"

"Please take all the time. It's the least I could do, given the time it took for me to get to you."

I nodded but frowned. That was the second time he had alluded to a long wait on my part. I would admit that the first option terrified me. Even if I presumed that Uriel was being utterly sincere, the idea of Judgment was... daunting.

Worse, if this was some scheme, then getting onto that train would be the worst mistake of my life - well, afterlife.

Door Number Two was the safe bet. Yes, it would kick the can down the road, but it gave me time to learn more working for Uriel and whatever his project was. Still, I was not sure I wanted to be a heavenly agent.

I'll admit the third option tempted me. If Uriel was sincere then it was exactly what I wanted: a chance to restart without Being X's interference. While I had gotten used to being female, being a petite and young female still grated, even if in part that was due to the early twentieth century society I had been reborn into. Not that Japan was without its own patriarchal attitudes.

The chance to rectify that... was tempting. Also, it would spit in the eye of Being X. It had said I would have no second reincarnation. But I had defeated Being X; why not get another chance?

I would miss Visha and my men, but none of the options included them. And it would have been wrong for me to demand such a thing. She was... err, they were still alive.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Did I get Being X? Really?"

Uriel gave that little shake of his head. "Yes. You did. Any questions about your options?"
"X is gone then? Good, I'd hate to have to deal with him in my new life." I bowed to Uriel. "Thank you. It's nice to see that not all inscrutable beings are prideful and unreasonable."

Looking a mix of baffled and amused, he returned the bow.

"I wish you well on your cleanup efforts." And with a wry smile I unshouldered my rifle and sword bayonet and held it out.

His amusement growing, he took the weapon. The silver on the blade glowed brighter.

"I'm sure you'll need this more than I," I said and turned heel and, without looking, back marched down the stairs.

End Prologue.


AN
As I've said those of you familiar with the Return verse, especially some of the supplemental material on my DA page have an idea where this is going.

That said, no knowledge of the Return is required to enjoy this story.

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Chapter 1 Hail Imperatrix


I woke up to crying.

A young nun in a black habit with purple hair held out a spoon. Her words were, soothing though I did not understand them, which meant I was not in the Empire nor Japan.

One word stuck out: Tauria.

I sighed. I should have expected reincarnation would go this way.

Then I looked closer at the nun. A pair of curled horns came out of her forehead. When she smiled reassuringly I could see that her canines were long and pointed.

No more than a babe cradled in the nun's arms, I looked around and saw a pale purple, spade-tipped tail flicking out and a set of wings folded on her shoulders.

Hushing me reassuringly, the nun got me to eat the broth from the large spoon. I looked back and saw my reflection in a mirror.

Seeing my own set of tiny horns and little wings, I was too busy cursing Uriel to notice I felt so comfortable in the demon nun's arms that I had resumed feeding.


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As a result of an ill-thought-out deal with an Archangel, I found myself in yet another world in a nunnery that took care of war orphans.

At least the conditions were better than in the previous orphanage I had grown up in. Part of that was that the Household Fleet and Imperial Legions made sure to keep facilities like this well supplied.

Another part was the generous patronage of the noble families, particularly Duchess SilverFlight.

During lessons, I learned that we were subjects of House BlackSky, one of the Great Houses on the Continent of Diyu. The orphanage was in the far eastern part of the House, outside the city of Bovitar.

The Nuns tried to keep us happy, but we were those children whose parents had died fighting for Imperatrix BlackSky and who had no extended family to take us in.

I spent most of my first years thinking this was merely the girl's dormitory of the orphanage until I realized the truth.

I was shocked at how young we were when Sister Clementia took us all around and read to us about the birds and the bees. Yes, the lessons were shown by way of a cartoony young woman called Silva, but it did explain why there were only female demons around.

That was another thing to get used to. Not that all of my new biology was bad; I'll admit I did like it when Sister Clementia took the time to gingerly polish my horns, and preen my wings, though I preferred the more mundane hair brushing.

A few of the other girls teased myself and Sibyl, one of my fellow orphans. We were the only two who had feathered wings. The rest, and the sisters, had bat-like membranous wings.

The more I learned about the jingoism and aggression of House BlackSky and the fear our neighbors had of us the more disquieted I got.

Fortunately, House BlackSky only had land borders with two rival powers. The longest border was with House Elena, which was also the one great demonic House larger than ours. The other, however, was more of a concern locally: we were relatively close to the grassy steppes that defined our border with House Luxon.

I was worried about being a powerless orphan.

It was something I had experience with.

I was also worried about being a powerful orphan.

I also had experience with that.

To my relief, it turned out that everyone seemed to have some magical talent, which made sense. I had been born into a people who were, for lack of a better term, demonic. We had wings, tails, horns, and fangs. Some of us had more demonic features, like hooves, and specific magical talents. A few things were universal, like having retractable claws and an affinity for pyromancy.

I also sympathized with the Sisters. Raising children was hard enough. The trouble was magnified greatly when dealing with children who, figuratively, always had matches and knives.

Still, if everyone had magic, then any talents I displayed would make me less of a standout. Reading between the lines of the popular stories we were read and the plays we would sometimes go into town to see, the BlackSkyvian military had an insatiable appetite for manpower.

I was pondering my moves. Joining the Household Fleet or Imperial Legions was low on my list of future options. If I had magical talent, then something in the civilian world could suit me, presuming there was no conscription to worry about.

I would still do my patriotic duty; there were plenty of artificer guilds making things for the war effort.

Every month or so, potential parents would come and visit. I had gotten used to seeing pairs and even larger groups of young women talking with the Sisters and watching us play.

Such relationships were becoming more accepted in Japan before my first life ended. And they were quite on the quiet end in the Empire in my second life. Here they were the norm, and apparently a biological necessity.

It was not something I paid much attention to. Beyond my age, I had already gone through life as a young woman and I failed to see how being a young demon girl would be all that different from a young human girl.

That would turn out to be a mistake on my part.

Before the prospective parents left, they would make comments and talk with some of the girls and then our orphanage would get a bit less populated.

I was not sure if I wanted to be adopted or not. It was a way to get some higher social status and maybe get a room to myself; but I was not too attached to that.

I did spend a lot of time with Sister Clementia brushing my hair and reassuring me after the prospective parents had left.

Not that I wanted to be adopted, but the other girls who were not as cute as I was were, which seemed unfair. My blonde hair was far prettier, and my horns were neither ungainly nor tiny.

I suppose it could have been my wings, but then Sibyl got adopted and she had hooves in addition to grey-feathered wings.

The regular visits of Duchess SilverFlight were a bright spot. I suspected she had ulterior motives, but I had my own reasons for getting in good with a member of the noble families.

Her hair was dark blue, almost cobalt, and ran between her wings. She normally wore a backless gown with frills and ruffles; except when she was giving flying lessons.

I'll confess to impatience. Being part of a species where everyone could fly, except for the very young, meant I could indulge without fear of conscription. Well, once my wings grew strong enough.

Duchess SilverFlight always brought little puzzles that required dexterity to solve, either by using your hands in the right spot or the right magical push. One puzzle was a set of wind chimes in a glass jar and we had to try to get them to chime without touching the jar. She was also generous with teething rings, chew-sticks, and other treats.

Something the Sisters were a bit stingy with for the younger girls.

We had the duchess to thank for our uniforms. It was nice to have warm and clean clothes. The nuns at my previous orphanage had tried their best, but having a duchess take a personal interest did make a difference.

Still, wearing pleated skirts with ribbons holding up the sleeves and little ties was a bit humiliating. And the green beret and tan and green plaid uniform was not exactly the most flattering Yet I swallowed my pride and tried to be the most apt and eager pupil whenever the duchess visited.

Based on my past experiences, being adopted into her family was a long shot, but getting some patronage from her as I grew up was more likely. Beyond bellicosity, House BlackSky had some other similarities to my old Empire. In both, a strong meritocratic sentiment balanced an imperial family and a noble class. Though many of the nobles had been bestowed their titles for achievement as much for blood.

It was a heady combination, and one I was prepared to leverage.

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By the time I was five years old, I had started to get used to my new life. I was able to focus on concrete plans. Being given my own calendar helped me organize when I wanted to learn various tasks. Of all the new units and bits of timekeeping the thirteen month year was the strangest, but I got past that.

It helped that Sister Clementia never looked at me like I was strange or off-kilter. She was always there for me.

I may have felt a bit guilty for pursuing the duchess's good graces, but Clementia wanted me to find a happy family. I had learned that our horns were not just decorative. They were a sort of antennae and part of a sense organ that allowed us to feel the emotions of others.

I was happy that I had become practiced in managing such emotions and their feedback whenever Sister Clementia brushed my hair.

"This is very... interesting needlework," Duchess SilverFlight said. "Your attention to detail is impressive."

"Thank you, your grace," I said, trying for a courtly tone. Silvan Latin was a complicated language. It had some similarities to the Ildoan I had never learned more than a smattering of, and while I knew a bit of Latin from my previous life I was never conversant in it.

The duchess smiled and sipped her tea. "Though, I find your engraving to be exquisite." She ran a hand over the three thumb-thick crystals I had etched patterns onto. When hung, they would gently attract air spirits, or kami, and thus they would never stop chiming.

It was a simple enough trinket but if it impressed the duchess then that was a good mark.

"Have you enticed a Zephyr of your own?" the duchess asked. I could feel that she was projecting hope and interest.

I had learned to not trust my horns too much. I could mask my own emotions to the level that even Sister Clementia seemed to be fooled most of the time. And if I could do that as a mere child, then it was obvious adults could as well. And it would be laughable if a demonic noble was not in utter control of herself.

"I have not. That might be a bit beyond me."

The duchess smiled and placed her hand near mine, being careful to leave a slight gap. Physical contact was complicated for us. It made the empathic link even stronger. Even having your hair brushed could do it. "I'm sure you'll get it. You are a very determined young girl."

I smiled and nodded. I would prefer to focus my attention on less martial skills. It took a bit to swallow my pride and ask for dance lessons or things like needlepoint. Enchanting and communing with spirits had their martial applications, but they were safer than showing great skill in fire, explosives, or evocation magic.

If being talented in more feminine arts and arcane could get me the patronage of a Duchess then so be it.

"I see you're wearing the new dress."

I plastered on a smile and twisted a bit. It was more of a romper and was even frillier than our uniform. "It's great, Duchess SilverFlight!"

She sipped her tea. "You look like a little princess."

I nodded and managed to get my tail to swish. It was galling to play pretty princess but there was a method to my madness.

Yes, like the old Empire, House BlackSky was a meritocracy in terms of promotions. And obviously, BlackSkyvians would put women in command positions. What alternative was there? Only about one-fifth of our house were non-demon subjects. They could not all be our commanders.

Still, I felt comfortable from past experience that going for a more feminine air could keep me from the eyes of military recruiters. Surely, they would look askance at the idea of a princess officer.

Still, I did have some regrets for this course of action. I had yet to see one in person, but House BlackSky had their own version of aerial mages, though instead of a simple harness, skis, or a mount, they used a full-plate bodysuit.

It gave even more performance and offensive power. Ritual Plate was the primary means of offensive firepower in the Household Fleet and a major branch of air support in the Legions.

That versatility made the suits highly in demand. There was considerable specialization for a variety of roles. Thus the House needed thousands of recruits to keep the Fleet and Legions staffed.

If I showed too much talent, or worse, interest, in that area my plans would crumble.

"Tauria?"

On the other hand.... the Fleet and Legions needed even more Ritualista maintainers and support staff for each Ritual Plate Pilot. So, if I had to be pulled into the military world, then being a maintainer, and later a production-line developer and an efficiency expert, would be a far more likely path to a comfortable career.

Especially as the duchess had influence in guilds and even owned some artificer lines. She had great pull in many areas. I would prefer to work as a civilian, but I was not one to shirk my duty if it came to that.

"Tauria DiamondDust?"

I looked up and, mortified, bowed my horns in submission towards her. Ignoring the Duchess was a major breach of protocol. "Please forgive me, your grace; do you need my Apology?"

The Duchess blinked then laughed. "Oh, there is no need for that."

"I insist," I said, recalling one of the protocol lessons we had been given, though it was more of an analysis of an opera we had seen the previous day. I will give House BlackSky this, their theater was less stodgy than the bloated productions of the Empire.

"There is no need," the duchess assured. "But if you will give me an indulgence."

"Anything!" I gushed.

"The Feast of DarkStar is coming up next month."

"May we remember her loss," I automatically said. It was part of being ruled by an ancient demonic empress: the things that were important to her were important to us.

Thus her granddaughter, who was betrayed and murdered during an invasion - from what I had learned so far, we had been the ones invading - millennia ago, was still honored.

In fairness, the subsequent battles after DarkStar's death and us turning on the traitors of House Vephar had expanded our House's holdings to the entirety of the Vanis subcontinent and laid the foundation for House BlackSky's primacy.

In a realpolitik sense, I could understand our Imperatrix making a point to celebrate the time she wiped out a rival nation for daring to betray the Imperial Family. It also made me acutely aware of the kind of nation-state that angel had sent me to live in.

And while the House was admirably pluralistic when it came to faiths, there was something of a civic religion. Nothing so much as a mandatory doctrine, more a collection of almost-secular holidays, rituals, festivals, and events. House BlackSky did pride itself on the superiority of their values and culture. One of them was readily glomming onto anything that could strengthen the House.

"Have you thought about anything you would like for the feast?"

I shook my head. "I was merely going to pray for loving homes for the rest of my sisters here, and failing that, to have the Sisters of the Order of Our Hallowed Lady continue to take care of us, with your generous patronage. of course."

The duchess's silver lips turned. "My, you are a cynical little one."

I flushed. "That's not um.... what I really wanted sounded too frivolous..." I grasped at straws to backfill and keep her favor.

"Oh, what did you want then?"

I choked and blurted out the most girly thing I could think of.

And that was how I got a pink puffy gown and matching tiara for my fifth Feast of DarkStar.

++++++

I was a happy girl when I outgrew that damn gown. Though given my slow growth rate, I was worried I would end up about the same diminutive size I was previously.

Better, it had been over eight years and I had not seen either Being X or Uriel.

The former hopefully meant that that bastard was good and dead; the latter hopefully meant that Archangel was done meddling with my life. To my concern, Being X had previously renewed meddling in my life after I had turned nine when I had been forced to test that horrible quad-core computation jewel prototype, but I would take what I could get.

I was still miffed at the trick Uriel had pulled.

` But it had been my fault for assuming that someone dedicated to balance and the minimal interference in mortal lives would try to put me into a 21st century Japan as a guy, and not into another belligerent imperial nation as a slight blonde girl with magical powers.

I tried to make sure my abilities did not stand out. Or at least not in a destructive way. While other orphans needed to be given lessons on how to control their abilities to generate fireballs and spent supervised time in a gravel pit down the hill from the nunnery burning rocks and practicing other feats of marksmanship, I was trying to attract little air kami.

While the other girls had the occasional accident that had to be cleaned up with buckets of water and timely intervention with the Sisters, I achieved precise control and then stopped trying to show off.

Sister Clementia did help me as I had a fair skill with lobbing magical napalm or lances of fire. But that struck me as the kind of thing that would get Legionary recruiters after me and I was trying to show the duchess how good I would be under her wings.

Raiding the nunnery's library got me started, but then I begged Sister Clementia to pick up books down in Bovitar when she went to get supplies so often that she brought me into the city to get me a library card, years before any of the other orphans in my age group.

This had an unintended bonus that library cards served as a de-facto national ID in House BlackSky. Which made a sort of sense. The Unified States, like its counterpart in my first life, had been settling on using motor vehicle licenses as a de-facto ID. Also the Japan I had left had been starting to give out personal identification numbers to supplement their somewhat at-hoc identification system.

All and all, that meant I could do more than borrow books with the little card in its leather folder. If I wanted to get on a train or flight to the capital about eight hundred miles to the west I could. Sure, it would take me using most of the money I had been scrimping and saving, and sweet-talking the ticket taker and conductor, but if I had to I could escape to the City of Trees.

I did not think it would come to that.

For one, I was more than willing to put in the effort and was able to read well above the level people expected of me. Rounding out that image of a young, eager prodigy was my habit of searching for books to do more lessons in attracting and caring for Zephyr and in enchantments of basic items.

Again, I avoided the more aggressive and openly destructive arts. This engendered less supervision, the books were easier to get from the librarians, and fit in more with the image I was presenting, that of the studious autodidact.

The problem came with the other lessons. I was used to swallowing my pride and learning skills to impress a boss. I had even dressed up for a propaganda tour of cheerful speeches and film-reels after I had won the Silver Wings Assault Badge.

While singing in a choir for the sisters was... troubling, I took comfort that there were plenty of secular songs, and some from the other faiths common in this part of the House. Though many of the ancestor worship ones were... odd given we were a race of demons. And the more animist ones reminded me a bit of Shinto.

Which, I suppose, was not too shocking, given I spent most of my days giving offerings and enticements to kami.

However, the ballet was humiliating, almost as much as the dresses. Still, I took a bit of pride when I ended up having some of the other girls agreeing to go into the city to take lessons too, as they were loath to be shown up by me in such things.

The worst part was that, while I eventually outgrew that gown, the duchess had since gotten me other finery. At least they were more complimentary. Pink was not a good color for me. And they were not overly endowed with frippery.
It also was a cost savings; every dress the duchess got me was one less the Sisters had to buy, saving them money to spend on the other girls.

They also represented a tangible investment the duchess was putting into me. It would be impolite and imprudent to not wear them, especially to the formal occasions, such as the opera nights or events showing off us orphans to guild masters at the various artificer halls in the city.

This was the exact business environment I had been dreaming of returning to. If I had to wear a little green dress with bows on my tail and my wings perfectly turned out, then so be it.

This was also when I met a few of the humans and other non-demon subjects of this new empire. They were polite enough and it was heartening to see that our Imperatrix valued their input and contribution to society and the war effort.

Despite the propaganda spread by our enemies, the last empire I lived in also valued the contributions of our various client states and minor groups. It made economic sense. An angry, and potentially rebellious, faction was a net drain on a polity, while a contented one with a path of advancement and degree of self-determination was a productive one.

Regardless of the species, I tried to be the most charming and played up the bright orphan willing to do her part for House BlackSky and who was full of skills that would be useful.

And if part of that meant I had to swallow my pride and act interested in art and culture and feminine things to ensure the patronage of a noble supporter of the arts, then I would do that.

It was nice that the duchess clearly favored me. Alas, she was a very busy woman.

But Sister Clementia was always there for me. Most of her wards had been adopted which gave her plenty of time to deal with me. And we were fortunate that... to be honest not too many new war orphans had been produced.

Or at least ones that had no choice other than to go to us.

Flying was an area where I let my competitiveness show. I was less worried as the vast majority of the citizens of the House could fly, and the skill of flying unaided seemed to be something that was more useful for sport than war. That was the reason why I was shying away from marksmanship lessons.

It was nice that my wings had grown strong enough, and while it was different than being an aerial mage, being able to take to the air was a treat. I was also able to try to adapt my skills and what I had learned from back then.

One side effect was that whenever I flew the air kami were interested and would nip around in the vortices of my wingtips. It was worse if I had been caring for my Zephyr right before taking a flight.

No one mocked me for it, but I could tell by the looks from the other orphans that they were judging me. Still, the Sisters watched us like hawks during flight lessons, and made it clear that there were consequences for unsupervised flying.

Thus one had to add ladders, climbing equipment, and wings to the things you can't take away from baby demons. It was amazing that the Sisters managed to deal with us and not go crazy.

Holding Sister Clementia's hand, I followed her down the hallway toward the back portico of the orphanage. The building was a three-story stone construct which the Sisters tried to make homey. To one side was the dormitory for the Sisters and to the other side was the temple.

The broad porches on both sides of the orphanage had roofs to protect them which meant that in all but the most inclement weather we could get some time outside, which was good for the other girls as they tended to get a bit stir-crazy.

I knew Sister Clementia was worried for me before she spoke. I rarely saw her out of her habit but her figure reminded me a bit of Visha. Though as a demoness of course. Not that I could judge. Though I had all the more reason to curse that whole "Devil of the Rhine" nickname.

"Duchess SilverFlight is a very busy woman." Her tone was cautious and delicate. "She has many interests in this whole province. And we are not the only orphanage she is a patron of."

Nodding, I tried to mask my concerns. I was less worried about the duchess rejecting me than I was being left with no options but to go into the Imperial Legions. The Household Fleet was also a big risk. The vast majority of fliers went to them. In the Fleet I might not be slogging in the mud, but I would be more likely to be in a major deployment.

"And," the Sister squeezed my hand as her tail flicked. "At these other orphanages there are other special girls she watches for."

I put on a reassuring smile and tried to make her feel more comforted. "I am realistic, Sister. I do not expect to be adopted, and besides, no one could replace you."

It was then that we exited the back doors and stepped onto the portico. Wind whipped around as we crossed the threshold and my wings ruffled and spread a bit. That was a moment of reassurance.

And then my heart sank.

I thought the duchess' surprise for me would be another dress. I was prepared to gush over it and talk about how pretty the lace or ribbon or whatever frippery was. I felt that coming off as too much of a tomboy could be risky.

At the worst, the duchess might insist I get my hair styled, though having my wings preened and the feathers cleaned did feel nice.

I did not expect the duchess to be wearing flight armor.

For the most part she wore gowns. They were reasonably sensible ones, formal events excepted. And she did dress in a more practical bodysuit when she gave us the occasional flight lesson. During those lessons her long cobalt hair was plaited and tied up.

She bore the same hairstyle today. She also seemed to be wearing the bodysuit. At least, there were hints of it under the fitted segments of articulated metal armor that she wore.

Gold filigree and glittering runes were engraved on most of the armored sections, particularly around the greaves, gauntlets, and contoured breastplate and the bits of armor that protected where her wings met her back.

Even on the ground, I could feel the Zephyr surrounding the duchess eager to take flight. For a moment, I was considering a similar action. I knew how futile that would be. The Duchess was in Ritual Plate; I was not. Even if we had the same flight skill, she would be much faster than me.

That there were no evocation pods on her gauntlets or other weapons flasks attached was very reassuring. As was the open stance and emotions she was giving off. I knew a noble like the duchess would be skilled at hiding her real mental state, but it was reassuring that she was not openly hostile.

Even idled, power radiated off of her. I knew a single Ritual Plate represented an investment in industrial and arcane might. Given the precision required in the components, the man-hours of artificer work alone...

Showing the wisdom of our Imperatrix and military leaders, interchangeability, standardization, and mass production were used as much as possible. Given each Ritual Plate needed to be fitted to a specific Pilot, separating the components requiring customization from the expensive but standardized power-intensive components was vital. A maintenance team could resize a suit for a different pilot as a field expedient, but at a cost of time and performance.

Also, given Ritual Plate was the House's main form of aerial combat power both offensive and defensive, there were tens of thousands of the things. It was a major commitment for even a demonic empire of our size.

Given all that, it was like someone walking up to me wearing an attack helicopter or a fighter plane with emphatic purpose. As an Aerial Mage in another life I could see how intimidating this could be.

A servant in a purple and gold uniform stood by the duchess' side carrying a metal helmet with a full face mask.

Sister Clementine gave my hand another squeeze and stepped aside. "Do your best, Tauria, but don't hurt yourself."

"Duchess SilverFlight, how may I serve?" I asked, bowing my head to present my horns.

Silver lips smiled as purple eyes studied me. "You brought your Zephyr? Good. Eager. I like that."

Oh. I guess they had come to me when I stepped outside. I simply nodded.

"I know you've been looking forward to this day for a long time. Now, don't feel any pressure or worry about today's results. Most don't even try to synchronize for their first time until they're twice your age. And there's no shame in not syncing until you're Cadet-age, either. We'll always be able to try again in the spring."

"Yes, your grace," I automatically replied. I could not feel any of the other girls around. But there were a bunch of people in the duchess's livery working around something strapped to a metal chair.

My tail went straight. It was another Ritual Plate suit. There was less adornment and enchanting; it looked a bit more rugged and... simple. More ominously, it was tiny.

I then realized the servants were Ritualista and were checking the enchantments and adjusting the fit of every component.

I kept from clenching my teeth. This was why the duchess had me do ballet lessons. It helped with the grace and footwork, and everyone knew Ritual Plate was difficult to walk around in on the ground.

I glanced at the duchess and saw that, despite the armored pointed boots, she was walking as nimbly as if wearing stilettos on the ballroom floor.
And that explained all the dresses. She knew all my measurements.

Diabolical.

I managed to look eager as she led me out to the grass where the Ritualista were working. The suit was open, with many of the front plates removed or rotated out of the way. There were cables going from the suit to various containers providing fuel and telemetry. Dials were being read off and adjustments were being made.

This was a test I could not refuse. Not if I wanted to keep in the duchess's good graces.

It was clear to me why she had been spending so much time helping me learn and giving me things. A noblewoman wouldn't care for a war orphan just out of kindness. Clearly, she had seen the potential in me.

I gave some small hope that I would fail the test. Being able to pilot a Ritual Plate suit was a rare talent. Not the rarest talent the BlackSkyvian military coveted. Those who had the magical affinity towards teleportation or walking through walls or remote viewing were even rarer and more valuable.

General sorcerous and arcanist talents were also useful for things like evocation grenadiers or combat engineers.

Telekinetics were also valuable. While a kinetomancer with great precision could be very useful at taking out high value targets, or one with exceptional strength could be devastating, especially in urban fighting, those with the more common range of those talents were mostly useful in making sure cargo was properly loaded, stowed, and unloaded. House BlackSky extensively used air resupply, but even transferring material from one ship to another involved the transport of a heavy object from one moving platform to another moving platform.

Having a load mistress with an intuitive understanding of the physics involved, formal training on how to control such cargo evolutions, and a magical ability to nudge said cargo if things went wrong was unglamorous but exceptionally useful.

I had some regrets that I did not have talents in that area.

All in all, being able to pilot Ritual Plate was a one-in-a-hundred ability. And one in a thousand could fly one of the armored suits with great skill. Which... was why both the Fleet and Legions did their best to entice recruits with said capability.

I stared into the open suit. It was mostly an unpainted metallic silver but there were some purple accents and script with broad orange highlights noting it was a trainee model.

It lacked the lethal grace of the duchess' armor, which was somewhat reassuring, but I would be lying to myself if it was not enticing.

On a platform next to the arming chair was the matching helmet. The faceplate was simple and I could see the catches that would open it up to allow someone to put it on around my horns.

"It's okay to be nervous," the duchess said. "I wasn't much older than you when I first piloted."

That did not reassure me.

"When did you first fly into battle?" I asked before I could catch myself.

"My you are an eager one." Silver lips turned into a smile. "No, I was much older when I entered the Legions. Though I did spend three years as a cadet pilot before the Legion proper."

"Then why test now? Surely a suit, even a trainee one, in this size is a great expense."

"Is it?"

I paused. While a Ritual Plate suit had to be customized to a given pilot, that was not a permanent change. It could be reconfigured to allow someone else to fly it. Modularity was also designed in to allow for a suit to continue to be refitted with new parts. With this many in service in so many roles, it was vital to be able to maintain, repair, and upgrade... to keep a given suit in service as long a feasible.

A Ritual Plate suit could be in service for decades, though the suit at the end would only retain a relatively small number of its original parts. Once the main structural, power, and propulsive systems were replaced it was hard to argue that it was the same suit, even if many of the external cosmetic element, and pilot-support, features were retained. However, this modularity did allow for amortization, where the costs of upgrading suit capability could be spread out over time via a rolling upgrade. It was a complicated question of when it was no longer tenable to upgrade a given suit iteration, when it saved money to simply go with a new airframe, and the cost/benefit exchange of cutting-edge performance versus merely-sharp performance.

A training suit would be designed for greater simplicity and robustness. Its only concerns in terms of battlefield capability would be ensuring a pilot starting on one could acquire skills that would be relevant when she transferred to a combat suit.

Thus, one could amortize the massive initial cost of a trainee suit over many years. Maintenance would be a regular operating cost but for an organization like the Fleet or the Legions the extra marginal cost of having Ritualista maintain and fit out a few trainee suits, even in such a diminutive scale, would be low. As would ordering trainee suits in all sizes.

Though there was one flaw in that logic. This was the duchess' trainee suit and these Ritualista were in her livery.

"You have your own mercenary company?" I asked. That... was not something I had considered. Was the duchess looking to recruit me into her personal military force?

Compared to being in a state military there were pros and cons to being a mercenary.

The Duchess gave a warm chuckle. "Technically, yes. But I am in good standing with the Guild. I am also an Imperial Legion Volantes Tribune in the Rorarii."

I nodded. She was a mid-level active reserve officer. And her rank would put her in charge of a Ritual Plate Wing or on a similar level of authority.

"What kind of contracts do you take on?" I asked, letting some eagerness come out. If I was to be roped into being a mercenary pilot by my patron it would do to figure out what tasks she did.

Being in the Legions might be the better option.

"Oh, nothing too glamorous," she assured.

I was skeptical.

"My family has interest in many artificer halls and industrial and research concerns that make components minor and major. Thus I retain about a Squadron of pilots for testing and evaluation of new components."

I perked up. That was exactly the kind of rear-echelon, nay, civilian, job that would suit me. Especially if it was a way for me to fly without getting any risk. Potentially. I had had a bad experience the last time I was a test pilot. Hopefully, the House had saner researchers than Doctor Schugel. "That sounds like fascinating work."

"It is the least I could do, and is a way to allow veteran pilots to keep flying."

My tail drooped. Of course. The duchess finds new recruits, and then sends them to the Fleet or Legion to get trained up, and then after their term, she reaps the rewards.

I nodded thoughtfully. "Very generous, your grace."

The duchess waved me off. "I've been keeping you too long. Shall we get you suited up?"

My first step was not into the flight armor. One of the Ritualista, who had pink hair cut into a bob, took me back inside where I changed into a bodysuit.

This one was also cut in my size and, by my guess, was fully custom. At least it was not pink, though it was lavender with some painted-on ruffles. The material was thick and stretchy, but thankfully it was not skin tight. Though, it was a bit less baggy than the flight suit I wore as an aerial mage.

There were padded sections and a few ports and areas that had locking points. Being dressed in it was uncomfortably personal and it did not help when the Ritualista assured me that since this would be a short flight I would not need to use any of the other features.

I had been an aerial mage for the Empire. I knew about the embarrassing biological necessities that came with long-duration flight. Though one nice thing about being an aerial mage was our sortie time was usually too short for that to make a difference.

Regaining my dignity, I held my tail and head high as I walked back outside. Sister Clementine gave me a hug, her wings folding over mine.

The duchess once again came over and took me to the arming chair. The Zephyr that followed me around were buzzing with anticipation.

Ritualista fussed over me as they let me sit down into the armored flight suit. Though in this case, a trainee suit was more armored against bumps and light crashes than enemy fire.

Quiet professional hands locked the plate and hatches over and went down a checklist. My feathers tingled as power flowed into the suit. It jumped up when the back and wing sections were bolted into place. I controlled my breathing.

This was not the most risky thing I had done. Thankfully, I was not claustrophobic, though each piece added in did make me feel more... disconnected.

Soon, I was fully encased in the silver and purple armor. I looked over at the helmet resting on its stand. That looked like the last part. The pins and needles sensation started to grow as the suit's crew turned off some of the governors and fed more power.

The duchess knelt before me. "Tauria, it's going to be okay, you're doing great."

I was?

"Just keep at it, that you've brought your own Zephyr makes this much simpler. We now have to get them to like the suit, instead of getting some unfamiliar air spirits to like you."

I lifted a gauntleted arm and gave a thumbs up. My shoulders, hips, and legs were still locked into the arming chair. Unlike the duchess's suit, my gauntlets only had a bit of plating on the back of the palm and forearms. Instead of fully articulated armor, my gloved hands were exposed. The muffled feeling grew.

"We're about to initiate the primary link," one of the Ritualista said.

There was a tingling flash that suddenly went numb. Feeling leaked back into my limbs. I lifted my arm and looked at it and then poked my other gauntlet. It was not that I could feel through the suit, but more that the suit was no longer an impediment.

Stronger was the feeling, the urge, the dream, of flight. Fed by the suit, anchored to it, my Zephyr were pushing, the air spirits eager to fulfill their nature. Even with my Ritual Plate idling, the amount of power fed into them had engorged the little whispers of air into something far more forceful.

The duchess squeezed my hand and smiled. Then she took her helmet from the waiting servant and locked it into place. It was the contoured. almost-death-mask-like face that then peered at me as she took up the smaller helmet and locked it into place.

My vision went dark for a moment as the helmet slid into place and the hatches were adjusted to allow my horns to pass through. The vision though the eyeholes was a bit restricted at first. But then a few runes came up denoting the activation sequence and the vision expanded as my view grew out.

The bolts holding me to the arming chair retracted and I flew to my feet. I felt floaty as my wings were pushed up. I stepped forward and had to remember my ballet lessons on how to balance in this position.

The problem was that while the Zephyr wanted to put me into the air, I still had the same amount of inertia. From what little I knew, Ritual Plate Pilots walked one of two ways. With the primary link active and the Zephyr pulling one's wings up, there was a floating gait that was prone to over-corrections and swaying motions. Without it active, there was a lot of exaggerated heavy stomping as one walked bearing the full mass of the metallic suit.

The duchess was still holding my hand.

"Are you ready?" she said, her voice echoing from a speaker crystal in the suit's choker.

"Yes, your grace." With the helmet on my smirk was hidden. I pulled my wings out and timed my leap and the push of my Zephyr. The spirits wanted to go fast, that was their purpose.

I might have overdone it.

But I did get off the ground.

The blast of air behind me may have bowled over a couple of the Ritualista as I shot up. A sense of acceleration and freedom came to me. Here one first learned to walk, then to swim, then to fly. A lot of swimming lessons actually were basic flight lessons in how to move one's wings and build up strength.

But as much as flying as a demon girl was a joy, it had nothing on the pure speed and power of being an aerial mage.

The duchess gave a whoop of delight and flapped her own wings to dart up into the sky.

For a moment I was lost in trying to show the wrong skills to my patron. Now I wanted to show off. I waited for her to meet my current altitude, then went into a dive and began accelerating.

Besides, if a duchess had decided I was to be a Ritual Plate pilot, then it was my best option to show her the wisdom of her decision and just how good I could be.

I glanced back and saw that she had caught up. Trimming my wings I turned out of the dive and tried to give a level acceleration. I was not as fast as with my computation orb, but I was sure that this particular suit had some version of training wheels.

Either way, having wings and magical thrust was a nice combination. I tried to up my maneuvering but it was hard to shake the duchess.

Not that I had any plans to beat her. Short of falling on her and trying to bite and claw and use my tail, I had no weapons.

Granted, I had done something like that in my first battle. But I had no intention of self-destructing this flight armor.

Despite the distance and despite her mask, I saw the duchess slow down slightly and tilt her head at me.

I sensed a feeling of mirth pulse towards me and the duchess rocked toward me in a blur.

"Oh, come on!" I cried as I rolled and poured on the power to gain attitude. While I held the distance I could gain more speed and had room to maneuver. Of course, she was toying with me.

The duchess shot past me and the wake nearly destabilized me as she stopped and, in a maneuver that would make me wince in my 203rd days, rapidly decelerated to match my heading.

"You truly are gifted," she transmitted, her voice coming in through my helmet's internal speakers.

I took a moment to compose myself. "Thank you, your grace," I said, giving as warm of a response as I could. She had me. The duchess utterly had me.

"Let us go down and have a celebratory lunch," she said happily and then took off back to the nunnery.

Part of me wondered how far I could go on a borrowed Ritual Plate suit, but I knew she would catch me. Also, while there was technically less sausage in my diet than in the Empire, the food was still very... Alpine. The meats and sausages did seem of a better quality here. But I did spend most of my previous life on military rations.

I followed her and at least had the pleasure of sticking the landing despite these cursed boots.

Taking off the helmet was a bit more challenging and I needed some help.

The duchess had removed her own helmet and did not even wait to get either of us out of the suits before having lunch where she could discuss my future.

++++++

The Prefect Volantes Centurion in her black Legionary uniform eyed us. Her face was lean and her dark eyes scanned over the crowd. For a ceremony like this she wore a ceremonial helmet with a red crest. The handful of us stood before one of the titanic hangars of Castra Bovitar.

Wings of Ritual Plate were on maneuvers above us, VTOLs of various sizes were transporting Legionaries and armored vehicles, and vast airships were being maneuvered. I was familiar enough with the latter in my previous life. The Empire was fond of Zeppelins, and had even used them to transport aerial aages.

Which made sense; one of the main limits on an airship was lift capacity; and when it came to firepower per pound aerial mages were extremely efficient.

Ritual Plate had a similar dynamic of being extremely powerful, but expensive, per pound. Thus, it was natural for House BlackSky to develop the capability of supporting Ritual Plate Pilots via airship. It fit in well with our mobility doctrine.

Sitting near the far eastern frontier of House BlackSky, this base served as a major forward operating position for elements from the First Home Fleet and had several Legions assigned here. There was even lift capacity to deploy a full Legion.

Compared to the facilities in the capital of Silvana, Castra Bovitar was a bit lacking in true heavy firepower. Thus, a pair of Battlecruisers, two fleet carriers, and a fleet torpedo boat tender were assigned here, plus all their escorts and supporting forces. They were all capital ships, but smaller and faster than the true heavies of the Household Fleet. And with the capital only eight hundred miles away, this base should keep House Luxon thinking twice about attacking our eastern border.

And it would reassure our ally to the north the barely-a-Great-House House Andromache. To our south was the Gaudia Sea, making this province a bit of a finger sticking out of our empire's territory.

That we were relatively close to the capital and bordered with multiple bodies of water - the Gaudia Sea, Lacus Superum, and the Great Bazala Lake - which other houses also had access too kept this from being a sleepy frontier province, unlike other areas in our sprawling Great House, let alone some of the offworld colonies.

"Step forward, recruit number one!" the centurion bellowed. "This is your chance to get out. Will you take it?"

The mousy-looking girl shook her head no. She had white hair in a pixie cut. Despite her meek posture her tail was straight. She was a few years older than me. I doubted she had needed special dispensation.

The centurion nodded. "Then swear."

"I swear by the various gods and unbreakable oaths that I will follow my commander wherever she may lead me. I will obey orders enthusiastically and without question. I will relinquish the protection of BlackSkyvian civil law and accept the power of my commanders to put me to death without trial for disobedience or desertion," the white haired girl said clearly and without stumbling at the end.

This would not be the first time I had dealt with an Imperial military with such strict rules of obedience.

"I promise to serve under the Legion's standards for my allotted time of duty and not to leave before my commander discharges me. I will serve BlackSky faithfully, even at the cost of my life and respect the law with regard to civilians and my comrades," the mousy girl concluded, her tail curled behind her.

"Congratulations!" the centurion boomed. "You are now a soldier of House BlackSky." She went to the amber-skinned girl with a shaved head. "Next!"

"And the same goes for me!" that girl declared.

The centurion chuckled and then gave her congratulations.

After a few more recruits went through she looked down at me. Her tail swished.

I went through the whole oath with my full gusto.

I was eleven. And just after the Feast of DarkStar I had volunteered as a Legion cadet pilot.

Yes, I was aware that I had done the very thing I had spent my short life trying to avoid: joining an imperial military as a young girl.

I had my reasons.

It came down to two primary ones: the perils of having a Legionary flying officer duchess as my patron, and how the BlackSkyvian military calculated time served.

Duchess SilverFlight was a great teacher and valued my skills. That training suit basically became mine as I used it more and more over the few years I had access to it. I had honed my skills and had become a fixture of her talks and among the young potential pilots she had found.

I learned the ins and outs of controlling an intricate collection of arcane enchantments which gave me an advantage over those who did not have regular access to such an expensive piece of equipment.

The problem was that the duchess saw me as an investment.

As I got older there would be a pressure to enlist.

I did not begrudge her for this. She had put a lot of time and money into an orphan and wanted to see a return on her investment. Especially if said orphan demonstrated skills that the House could use.

I might deplore war as a waste of lives, resources, and economic output, but if a nation-state must have a military then it does need skillful personnel.

The duchess had no legal recourse to punish me if I did not enlist. In theory, once I emancipated myself, I could leave the nunnery and get a job anywhere I wanted. I had the skills.

Unfortunately, most of my contacts were through... the duchess.

She never once brought up the possibility of her using her pull to blackball me. She didn't need to.

In trying to show my soft skills to Duchess SilverFlight I ended up trapping myself. I had taken this realization with my usual stoicism.

The situation would get worse the older I got. And if a major war kicked off, the pressure would become untenable.

It was not a question of if I would be forced to join the military, but of when.

Thus my choice was enlist in the Imperial Legion, Household Fleet, or an Auxilia.

The Auxilia would be a lesser commitment, but I worried that might offend the duchess more than if I had simply skipped out on military service entirely.

The Household Fleet had far more Ritual Plate which gave me more options in finding a calm rear posting to serve out my term. However, they also used Ritual Plate far more frequently, as, again, that was the Fleet's main striking force. The large Fujiwara Aerial Torpedo was powerful and gave the Fleet a great offensive punch, but they were expendable munitions. They were also heavy and weight was everything when it came to Fleet logistics. Where a Ritual Plate Pilot could do many sorties, provided she survived.

In fairness, both the Legions and the Fleet did a lot of cross training for their pilots. They even had the same equipment and models of Ritual Plate. Well, outside of some specialized modifications for those who served on submarines and other postings that risked an excessive amount of sea spray.

Both salt and water had a metaphysical grounding effect on magical enchantments. Thus saltwater was a nightmare to proof systems against. That we even had a submarine fleet, small as it was, showed the ingenuity desperation could bring.

That and one of our rivals to the southwest, House Trosier, was a major naval power. And they had an impressive submarine fleet. Fortunately, our ally House Alecto disliked Trosier even more than we did, and was also a naval power, and willing to help us with technical expertise.

I had to admit: I came down to the Imperial Legions because that was where the duchess had her commission.

I knew what service to join.

I knew my joining was inevitable.

The question was: When would I join?

And this came to the second point. Being in the Legions, or the Fleet, was a twenty year term.

If I waited until adulthood and then succumbed to the pressure, I would expect to have nearly two decades of risk of dangerous duties, less year or so of training and light duty at the start.

And that was if I did not sign up as an adult during a major war. Someone personally trained by Duchess SilverFlight? I could see myself being thrown into combat right after the Ritualista got a suit fitted during my oath.

However, the clock on that twenty year term included cadet programs.

House BlackSky recognized that training made a vast difference for a pilot's performance. The cadet program was a way to attract potential pilots of special talent and train them up. This gave them a leg up over other recruits who might be wearing an RP suit for the first time. Instead of the minimum age of sixteen, though they seem to prefer a little bit older, for the Legions, the cadet program allows people two or three years younger.

Thankfully House BlackSky was not so desperate that they would send children into battle. Things were not quite so dire as they were for my previous Empire.

This meant that there was every benefit for me to get into the cadet program as early as possible. If I had to be in the Legions then it is in my best interest to showcase my abilities.

And this was best done by showing off my skills at the youngest age. Further bonuses were that this gave me more time to train before I ended up in active service, and every year as a cadet was one less I would have to be an active pilot.

Really, being a cadet at eleven was not so bad; by this time in my last life I was commanding a battalion.

Further, volunteering for the cadet program at such a low age required the duchess to petition for an exception. She had to put her reputation on the line to argue to the Legions why I, in particular, deserved special dispensation.

Thus she had to spend some political capital so I could show the duchess just how gung-ho I was. And how right the duchess was for finding me and giving me this chance.
Thus I turned a situation where I could have lost her patronage into one that strengthened it.

All in all, my plan was to spend a few years as a cadet then, hopefully, get into full training rotation. And, if I was lucky, we could be in relative peace. That would mean maybe another year effectively knocked off my obligation.

Even better, the standard route for new pilots was to spend a term or two in the Scouting Branch getting seasoned. Sure, the duty involved a lot of long, boring recon patrols, but I was well aware of how good a boring billet was. That most of Scouting Branch was deployed as half squadrons on tiny, cramped Venture class scout airships that had limited amenities was a downside, but it beat slogging around in ground support operations.

And after all that, I would get my first combat posting. And that was only if I didn't get some sort of rear posting as a flight instructor.

If I played my cards right I could have at least a quarter, likely a third, of my term spent in various training posting, and maybe get out when I was barely over thirty. If I got lucky maybe I could use my connections with the duchess to get a position testing equipment for the Legions.

I might have ended up stuck in the military again, but this time, without Being X's sabotage, I was not worried about complications.

I smiled as the last of the cadet recruits swore in and we all saluted the BlackSkyvian banner. "Hail Imperatrix!"

End Chapter 1


Poor, poor Tanya.

She's trying her best but in many ways she's her own worst enemy. Especially when Being X is out of the picture.

And buckle up. This is a new project of mine. I've already got six chapters written and posted as drafts, so once I get some more editing to those you can expect them here.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.


Chapter 2: Allegro with Aplomb


Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus inspected her cadet Squadron with flickering orange eyes. Her green hair was pulled back in a tight braid. There were a couple tattoos on her dusky cheeks. Her tall, voluptuous form was in contrast with the obvious expectation of an experienced warrior.

Well... present company excluded. And it was true that the average beauty level of the Household Fleet and Imperial Legions would be high.

Her black uniform was crisp and the awards on her chest and hair pins were easy to read. Impressing someone like Prefect Centurion Quirinus would look good in my file. But if I impressed her too much I would be sure to be given posting on the front. Probably some colonial hotspot in an offworld backwater.

Thankfully, that was still years away. I had plenty of time. We were meeting in a hangar. Unlike the cavernous airship hangars, this one, while still large, was more sized to maintaining and storing VTOLs.

"I am pleased to say that you have managed to, eventually, not embarrass yourselves with training suits. Congratulations on family connections, scholarship, patronage and many Aurei being spent to give you this opportunity."

The Centurion's tail flicked as her eyes went over us. "Most of us are lucky to get a few months in a training suit and our betters hope that we can learn the ropes enough to not damage a real Ritual Plate too badly with our mistakes."

She gave a fanged smile. "You girls will not have that luxury. I know that imperial edict waives the cost of Ritual Plate in most circumstances. But if I deem that you broke something because you were too cocksure and were showing off, being stupid, or anything other than acting as a paragon of BlackSkyvian virtue deserving of this chance, then the repair costs will come out of the stipend the Imperatrix so generously bestows upon you."

I nodded slightly. A Legionary purchased her personal kit. It was an old tradition, but one that had been adapted to the modern day. Namely, the Legionary's bonus upon enlistment covered those expenses. Still, that allowed for a Legionary to get some customization, and upgrades, to her gear, provided her Centurion approved of it. It also meant that upon the end of her term of service any such small arms and kit were her property. The expectation was that gear was to be maintained, especially if she took the financial enticement of reserve service.

But another side effect was that far more expensive equipment could also be personally purchased for service, if one had the funds. It was rare for a Legionary, or Fleet Officer, to bring her own Ritual Plate, but a few noble families kept up the tradition.

I even heard rumors that some madwomen - apologies, when you have that much money you are eccentric - bought and then brought their own tanks. But that seemed just barracks room gossip. Not that a tank was more expensive than a Ritual Plate suit, quite the contrary, but an armored vehicle was so much larger and heavier.

The Centurion's eyes went past me and to the young Baroness VioletBlood on my left. "And no, those of you who could have Mommy buy you a suit outright will not be able to beg your family to get out of this debt. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Centurion!" we shouted and saluted.

"Good. The Imperatrix, in her generosity, via her daughter House Legate AshRain, through her representative Castra Legate Evanda, commander of this base, and Volantes Legate Aucto, commander of us pilots, have seen fit to allow you to continue training."

Standing before us in racks that looked like vertically-upright and open caskets was a line of Ritual Plate suits. Which explained why we had been ordered to appear in our sub-armor bodysuits.

The Ritual Plate were a matte silver and looked like they had been refitted several times. Still, they were in good working order and I could feel that their runes, while not elegant, were in good order. Compared to other models of Ritual Plate, they looked relatively plain, but many of the bare spots on the armor had the clear locking points and connectors for mission modules

"These are Polydora Mark 5 suits. Or at least their Ritualista have sworn they've been updated to an equivalent-performance refit package from their original Mark 2A frames, which is impressive as it is pushing the limit of their core architecture. I'll admit I might have worn one of these myself, though an earlier Mark, back when I didn't have the luxury of spending a few terms merely training in one." Despite her harsh tone, the Centurion looked at them fondly.

She looked over us with another sharp smile. "Don't be so disappointed. If you want a suit that can do strike missions, air superiority, or ground attack then these are it."

For my part I was not disappointed. Half a year of cadet training had been very useful, but I had long since gotten to the limits of the trainer suits. With the possible exception of the haughty VioletBlood, I had more hours in a Ritual Plate than any of the other cadets, and I was the youngest.

Though, VioletBlood was only a year and a half older than me. Like me, she was an orphan. Unlike me, she had extended family, and her parents had been nobility. But I could not hate her.

She had used her wealth to invest in flying lessons and time in her own trainer suit. And while I doubted her motives for enlisting in the Legions were as pure as mine, she was a competent flier and worked hard in her studies.

"Why go with a Telephe, Harmonia, or Sarpedona model RP that can do one thing when you can have a suit that handles all three of the major Ritual Plate roles?" The Centurion paused. "That was a question. Cadet Optio FangStrike?"

"Cadet Optio" was, functionally, a courtesy rank. Ritual Plate Pilots started as Centurions of the Volantes specialization. Pilots who were not cadets, that is.

We cadets were given the rank just below Centurion, optio, but with the "cadet" prefix to make it clear to even the most meat-headed hoof-slogger that we had no authority to order her around.

The mousy girl who had sworn the oath at the same time as me braced. "Because a specialized suit does not have the deficiencies of a multi-role platform."

The Centurion nodded. "What are those deficiencies?" she turned to me "Cadet Optio DiamondDust"

"A fully updated Polydora with a Strike Package does not have the same Lance power as a Telephe. While ranges are comparable, the Polydora lacks the systems to allow for the same level of evocative power and number of shots. In its defense, a Polydora with such a configuration does still have a longer range and more powerful strike capability than non-Telephe suits."

If the Ritual Plate Wings were the Household Fleet's main form of power projection, then the Telephe Squadrons were their main form of strike power. An attack from these suits had the ability to take out major, and well-defended, targets like capital ships or ground facilities. The downside was the pilot had to be comfortable carrying the incredibly - and worryingly - energy-dense conformal flasks that powered those Lance Batteries.

That they were not flying deathtraps despite that was a sign of the value and expertise put into developing the Telephe. If command wanted a strike platform that could only be used once, then there was the Fujiwara Aerial Torpedo.

The Centurion motioned for me to continue.

"Similarly, a Polydora configured in an air superiority, or interceptor, role has weaker performance curves than a Harmonia. Though the Harmonia line of Ritual Plate has their own specializations. Again, if a Harmonia is not available a Polydora in this role is better most other suits."

She grunted in mild approval. "What suits would be better?"

"Strike Flight Leaders often have stronger Zephyr and their Telephe suits tuned for greater agility. In the right hands, that would be a not-unacceptable understudy to a Harmonia. And a Polyxo Advanced Multi-Role Suit is superior to a Polydora in nearly every way, but that is their purpose."

Quirinus smirked. "And for ground attack?"

I straightened. "In overall firepower, a Polyxo configured in that role is rather close to a Sarpedona. However, it is lacking in ammo capacity, in protective systems, and low-speed maneuverability. The Sarpedona is designed to soak up a lot of ground fire, at the cost of high-speed and high-altitude performance. But, with the same exceptions as before, a Polydora is the next-best option."

"The same exceptions?"

"A Telephe strike can provide an unforgettable ground support run, Centurion. It might not be the most efficient, but an enemy armored formation would not forget it."

She laughed at the image of a squadron of RP suits using ship-killing weaponry on a tank brigade. "Good. Given those failings, why do we even bother with Polydora? It sounds like a second-fiddle suit. Are they cheaper to field?"

"Counting only the suit itself, yes. But the cost does go up when one has to include the various mission packages to give a Polydora muti-role capability."

"Again, then, I must ask why."

"Their flexibility. Consider some small craft: the Kolibri Patrol Carrier only carries two light squadrons and a Damocles Light Carrier only has three squadrons. Having all or most of those squadrons issued with Polydora allows for mission flexibility. This applies to full wings where a handful of squadrons can be set aside with Polydora suits. Such an arrangement will require more training for the pilots as they will have to be skilled in multiple roles but it greatly enhances the utility of such smaller ships."

The Centurion pointedly looked down at herself. "I'm sorry, Cadet, I seem to not be wearing a white fleet uniform. Pretend I'm a Legionary and I actually work for a living. Why do the Imperial Legions use Polydora?"

My tail straightened as I worked to keep my composure.

VioletBlood and some of the other cadets kept straight faces but I could feel the mirth emanating from them. I had to keep the Centurion's attention if I wanted to save face. Having her ask another cadet would show she was unsatisfied with my answers.

"The same dynamic applies to the Legions, Ma'am"

"Please elaborate."

"A typical Legion has a Reinforced Wing of about thirteen Squadrons. Most of them are Sarpedona ground attack Squadrons, which also give a measure of local air defense capability. Then there are two Harmonia Squadrons for dedicated air superiority, and three multi-role Squadrons to take whatever major role required."

The Centurion gave me a dry look. "Do tell."

I frowned to myself. My previous empire could have only dreamed of having such a ratio of air assets to ground troops. A Legion Wing was three times the size of my old battalion. And at ten Cohorts, the Legion it would be supporting was not an insignificant force, but it was still only four to five thousand hoof-slogging Legionaries. Support staff, maintainers, vehicle crew, and other supernumeraries added roughly another two thousand.

There had been many days on the Rhine when a force that size would have been be a rounding error.

However, BlackSkyvian doctrine was different. The Legions were an extremely mobile force that was typically deployed via air. In a military where nearly everyone had wings, it was easy to have paratrooper style insertions.

And most of our enemies also had such an innate ability with flight, meaning a large amount of mobile firepower that could also protect against air attack was vital. A Legionary RP Wing was a major expense for a Legion, however by our doctrine it was considered a vital component.

Ideally, every Cohort would have at least two RP Flights to call upon for their direct air support. Five Squadrons would be retained to the Legion HQ for reinforcement or deployment as needed. Pilot fatigue, maintenance downtime, and combat losses would reduce this ideal.

However, that fit with a combined arms doctrine even at the Cohort level. A Pilus Prior Centurion would have access to, on average, six centuries of Legionaries, a handful of Nyx light scout vehicles, some Nymph light transports, a number of Arachne artillery pieces, and the aforementioned Ritual Plate Flights.

And for most cases, that support came from various marks of Sarpedona Ritual Plate: flight armor designed for the lower speed, lower altitude, ground attack role, with the corresponding optimization of protective warding against ground fire.

This applied to the generic "infantry" cohort. There were several more variants such as those built around supporting two troops of Vestal scout/light tanks, two Troops of Triarii IFVs, one Troop of Lavin battle tanks, two Squadrons of Umbra Medium VTOLs to give the six centuries ready airborne transport, or the classic double-strength First Cohort of Evocatus Veterans with even more generous RP and artillery support.
House BlackSky had made the calculated decision to eschew conscription and focus on a smaller, more well-funded, professional force. As a proponent of individual freedom this heartened me. Though I knew how well focusing on quality over quantity worked for my previous empire.

On the other wing, House BlackSky did invest in considerable firepower and capabilities with the aim of going after numerically larger forces. Also by ingenuity, industry, adaptation, and a heartening adherence to free market principles House BlackSky was economically powerful.

Currently there were about seventy-five active Legions; a third of them were armor legions, the rest infantry and a number of Logistics Legions. About twenty-five more Legions were on Rorarii - First Reserve -status meaning they could be quickly brought into the fold. Even more were Second Reserve, which would take longer to organize, equip, and retrain, but would serve as a vast pool of manpower.

That added up to a strong force, if far smaller than my previous empire. Mitigating this was that the Household Fleet was a quarter again larger than the Imperial Legions, though much of their capacity was devoted to logistics and legionary lift.

Though our enemies were aware of our doctrine and had prepared their own counters. And we would have to learn how to counter them. So it goes.

I nodded to Centurion Quirinus. "If not for the Polydora then a Legate would have to be limited in how much ground support versus strike versus air superiority her Legion had. One of the biggest advantages of Ritual Plate is its flexibility."

"And the Polyxo?"

"Overcomes the limitations of the Polydora." I crisply replied before she could direct the question to anyone else. "It is an advanced multi-role suit that gives near-parity with a dedicated RP Suit in the three common roles."

"Then why don't we all use Polyxo?"

I laughed. "Last I checked the Palace in Silvana wasn't built out of ten-Aurei coins. The Polyxo gets that capability by being one of the most expensive and maintenance-intensive suits. Yes, an Occultia or a Svalinna cost more, but that's not much comfort; those are specialist suits - airborne long-range detection and shield projection, respectively - which rarely get deployed as a full Flight, let along a full Squadron."

Even an empire that put a breathtaking amount of resources into air power, or perhaps especially one, would spend those resources efficiently. If going to a less costly, but less flexible suit resulted in a few extra Air Groups then it would be money well spent. Same with retaining older suits and having a system to keep them upgraded even for second line use.

"Is that all?"
"No, Ma'am," I shook my head. "Unless one is a master Pilot in multiple disciplines, a Polyxo would be a wasted asset. That said, a Legate would give her eyeteeth to have her three multi-role squadrons filled with qualified Polyxo pilots."

The Centurion laughed. "You are not wrong."

She gave me an approving look and took in the rest of us. "Okay, girls. I seem to have misplaced my Ritualista so you will have to help each other fit, check, and power up your suits. Consider it a refresher in the basics. And a lesson that you are Legion Fliers; you won't always be fitting out on a nice carrier embarkation deck. Yes, I will be personally checking over each suit before we fly. Pray I do not find a fault you should have caught. Questions?"

"Where are the fuel cells?" the mousy girl asked.

"Down in the vault over there," the Centurion pointed down the hangar past a couple hulking Gladius heavy VTOLs that were being refitted. The giant craft had wings that could fold back for storage and used engines in four rotating nacelles for the lift and thrust which was required to transport a light tank, IFV, an Artillery Tormenta, or two Centuries of Legionaries. "You've just volunteered to get them. Pick a Flight-worth of girls and borrow a cart to bring them over."

I watched the four girls quickly walked off.

"Don't the rest of you wait. I want you to get fitted out and ready for some real flight lessons. The moons are out. Emuria is full while Lantia is nearly; it will be a beautiful night." The Centurion clapped.

Next to me, Optio Cadet Baroness VioletBlood gave a smile. Her pale features were crisp and her dark red hair was fine. Since we'd swore in, she had gotten a growth spurt and the newly willowy girl looked down her aristocratic nose at me.

"Well, Diamond, it shall just be like getting ready for ballet. Would you like me to help you suit up? I know you have problems with the footwear." Her tone was sweet though she did show a bit of fang, and I could feel the mirth behind her words.

I gritted my teeth. I was not enthused with my last name, less so when it was shortened into a nickname. "Are you sure, my lady? Perhaps you could benefit with more time to get familiar with your suit if you get dressed first."

VioletBlood twisted her head to face me. I could just imagine what her perfectly curled black horns were sensing of my emotions. To drive it home, I walked past her and slapped her thigh with my tail as I did so. I made sure to keep my tail filaments withdrawn; there was no need to draw blood.

Not breaking stride, I went to one of the standing Ritual Plate suits and pulled up a smoked glass plate and started running a diagnostic.

She almost snarled but then her expression became cold. "You impudent, grubby, social cli-"

"Ah, I see the two representatives from our beloved noble families are eager to get into their training," Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus interrupted, walking up to us.

"Ma'am, I am but a common citizen raised by the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady."

The Centurion gave me a dry look. "As you say, citizen-cadet. You and Lady VioletBlood still volunteered to be the opposing force for today's lessons. And please note we are not doing close quarters combat today. If you have to resort to claw-to-tail combat in a Ritual Plate, then things have gone very wrong."

I simply nodded while the young baroness gave a tiny pout.

"Are we clear?"

"Yes, Centurion!" both of us cried, and saluted in the BlackSkyvian fashion: tilting our heads then tapping index and middle finger to our exposed necks before extending them to just in front of our eyes.

The centurion laughed. "Consider it a vote of confidence in your abilities. Mind, if you prove my confidence unwarranted," she said and gave a fanged smile, "I shall have to reevaluate both of you."

++++++

Clubs could be an important way of devolving group cohesion and skills. In my first life, clubs were a vital part of the educational system. In my second life, they were less important but were still a factor in officer training.

Thankfully, the Imperial War College I had attended in Berun did not have to deal with such fripperies.

Unfortunately, I was once again a cadet.

And while the enlisted, non-com, officer dynamic was a bit different for the Imperial Legions, I was still training to become a centurion.

I would have preferred to be in a club for something like marksmanship, wargaming, pyromancy, or even care of spirits.

But I had studiously avoided displaying skill in most of those at the orphanage, all in my misguided attempt to downplay my martial skills.

Unfortunately, there was one activity I had not avoided. In a very considerate move, with my best interests at heart, Mistress Verity, my ballet teacher, had drafted a letter of recommendation to my instructors in the cadet program.

Sighing in the locker room, I massaged my feet. That was the worst part. Well the costumes were the worst part, but that was not a physical pain.

It had been explained to me that if I were to join, I would be the smallest person in the troupe. Which meant I would have a special role in the aerial parts of Allegro movements.

Demonic strength, my small size, and my wings meant I could do very impressive acrobatic work. And that had me shoot straight up to a soloist position.

Unspoken was that such skill would make the troupe look good, and thus would make the Air Group, the base, and the House look good.

I acceded to their logic and showcased my skills.

Even if I had to wear frills and sequins and....

Okay, the worst part was performing on stage. Much of the audience were Legionaries, Fleet, and their families.

Though seeing the duchess in the audience did make up for it. She was a patron of the arts, and now she could see her protege being a proper young example of BlackSkyvian class and prowess.

It was also nice to see Sister Clementia watching me, too. VioletBlood's expression when she saw them looking at me was also a treasured moment when she nearly stumbled.

Yes, my squad mate and fellow ballerina was noble herself, but a duchess was still far higher than a mere baroness.

After unlacing my slippers, I continued to frown at my toes. We healed faster than humans, which our trainers took advantage of, and the ballet troupe relished. Dancers who could recover from ankle injuries in days were very handy.

There was also the fact that soldiers who could survive trauma and heal from grievous wounds with greater speed and recovery were quite useful.

I had stripped out of the ballet leotard and dressed in my black Cadet Optio uniform. I had the flashes and silver wings of the Volantes specialty and green trim to denote my cadet status.

The other girls in the troupe, most of them Centurions, were also changing. VioletBlood was at the other end of the locker room and avoided my gaze.

"Will you be ready for flying lessons tonight?" IvyBlade asked. She had pale green skin and silver hair and often had my wing.

I shook my head. "Prefect Quirinus has us doing night landings tonight. The New Dawn is doing maneuvers and we're scheduled to take advantage of that."

The HFV New Dawn was one of the Nova class Fleet Carriers assigned to this base. It could support two Ritual Plate Wings, nearly two hundred Pilots, twenty-two Fujiwara aerial Torpedoes, a Century of Legionaries for shipboard security and a set of strong backs, and a mixed reinforced squadron of Spatha Light and Umbra Medium VTOLs. The latter were used for various search and rescue, resupply, and personnel movement roles.

With its Destroyer and Light Carrier escorts and Venture scouting force, the New Dawn and her sisters represented a major capability of House BlackSky to place an airbase at a location of a Praefectus Commodore's choosing. They and the Kanabo class Battlecruisers were, in many ways, the backbone of the Household Fleet's power projection.

The Avalon Class heavy carriers were even more monstrous, being able to deploy a whole Air Group, but House BlackSky only had six of those. Though the real power was the massive number of various fleet cargo ships.

"I wish I could have done carrier landings at your age," IvyBlade smiled.

I took in her genuine-seeming reassurance with my own ambivalent mood. Ritual Plate was maneuverable enough that landing was not too challenging. Even if your target was, say, the size of a frigate's flight deck or the receiving bay of an airship.

"Well, it won't be the same without our little mascot." She patted me on the head.

I managed to not bite her hand off.

Patronizing behavior and scheduling conflicts aside, that was the real reason I stayed in the troupe. It was more than ballet. We also did formation and acrobatic flying.

Yes, it was all a lot of pomp, smoke trails, and colorful pyrotechnics that were glorified fireworks. But it was high-status precision flying. And the more hours I clocked in Ritual Plate the better things would be for me.

IvyBlade smiled as her tail swished.

I finished dressing; she waved to me as I left.

I made my way down the base to the cadet office to pick up my mail. After checking out at the gatehouse I stepped off base and took the short walk into the northern side of Bovitar.

From here, the city sloped down towards the Lethe river. There were considerable port facilities. Bovitar was the major trade city of Eastern Province and the Lethe drained into the Great Bazala Lake.

I found a nice cafe that overlooked Victory Plaza at the heart of Bovitar. We were a few stories up on a part of the plains that had not been cut down by the river.

The plaza was near the Lethe and had the central train station on one end and the passenger terminus for river transits at the other.

I took my seat outside and exhaled. It was a nice fall day. I was nearly twelve. At least as House BlackSky reckoned it; the years were slightly longer than in my previous lives, but with shorter months.

Bonus, I had yet to hear from Being X or that archangel during this life... so far.

I was tempted to allow myself some optimism as my coffee and a little plate of chocolates was given to me by a waitress who seemed to find that my uniform was too cute.

While I had not avoided military service, I was distinguishing myself in a safe environment. It would be embarrassing to make a career out of ballet, even the mix of stage production and acrobatic flying done here. But it would be far safer than say repeated tours on the Rhine Front or even Norden.

I sipped the coffee and watched people walk about. There were a few ways to go down from North Bovitar to the city center. There were lovely stone stairs, a couple switch-backing roads. Or there was simply walking to an overlook and flying down. Or up.

Even with me trying to tamp it down, I could just feel the press of other people. The emotional mass of folks going about their lives: workers, Legionaries, Fleet Marinii, artificers, children going to school and play, many being watched by their mothers. There were even some humans and a few of the broad demographic catch all of "other".
I saw one of the Forest People, his shaggy pelt brushed and gleaming, as he walked down the street pulling a cart full of fine-grained, seasoned lumber. Large feet plodding on the cobbles, the massive fellow towered over the press of people by several feet and seemed to ignore other vehicles.

The Forest People were normally not this far East. They tended to live in the remote high forest areas of the North-South Vyhraj mountain chain to the west that divided House BlackSky into eastern and western halves.

Eastern Province did have many forested lands, especially to the northern end near the border. He was probably from an enclave out there.

The Forest People served well in the Auxilia. Yes, their great size and strength was a considerable advantage, but their true role was in woodland scouts. In those locations, they were far stealthier than people a quarter their size and had innate magic that made them very effective at reconnaissance in force.

Bovitar had nowhere the size nor cosmopolitan nature of Silvana. But few cities compared to the capital, the City of Trees. However, Bovitar was a trade hub and the major population center of the Eastern Province. It was also about as densely populated as I was currently comfortable with.

No wonder large cities tended to be rare on Diyu. Smaller settlements were far more common. There were also logistical reasons, feeding millions and millions of demons was strategically vital, especially given our special dietary needs.

Thus the large cities that did grow had some industrial, cultural, political, military justification.

But if I wanted to get a nice rear-echelon position, then Silvana had the highest number of billets. From the vast Fleet Port complexes to the War College to Castra Argentum: the headquarters of the Imperial Legions and the Household Fleet.

I suppose there were also staff positions in the Palace as well. But that seemed both too ambitious and too high profile.

My mail would at least give me a diversion while I relaxed in the cafe. The biggest was the latest Journal on Air Combat from the Imperial War College of Silvana. As a generally-available publication, there was nothing sensitive in its contents, but it was good to keep up to date with what was openly known.

There was a periodical about the care and binding of spirits. The contents of which, especially their article on mass farming of Zephyr, had me consider writing a rebuttal.

There were a few administrative missives that dealt with the paperwork that accrued even as a cadet. Though in fairness, I was responsible for my Polydora suit, which included keeping up on its service logs and ensuring the Ritualista in the maintenance pool had kept it up to date.

This was complicated that my suit got more used than most of the other cadets as it was both used for my training and for the ballet Troupe.

Finally, there were two pieces of personal correspondence.

First, I tackled the letter from Sister Clementia. The money I was sending back to the orphanage and the nunnery was helping. Well, she was being very polite.

Being a Cadet came with room, board, and a small stipend. And, my personal costs were low, the periodicals, and cafe trips were my few expenses. Though Bovitar did have some remarkably pleasant bakeries.

We were kept busy with lessons and training. And not just flight training, there was marksmanship, ground maneuvers, orienteering, wilderness survival. The whole suite of paramilitary scouting and camping.

Though we did have downtime. Cadets were not, officially, full time trainees.

It was nice that Clementia was proud of me.

I would see about getting her, and the other orphans, some tickets to the ballet. It would be humiliating for them to see me, but it would show them what I had achieved, and would be a way to help culturally enrich them.

It was only proper to return the effort she put into me. The nuns in my second life were not deficient nor negligent; they were merely lacking in material resources. It was not their fault that they did not have time to deal with me on a personal level.

Purring a bit, I made some notes about my response in the margins. The back of this letter was the one I had sent to Sister Clementia. Being a practical and frugal woman, she would write her reply on the back page of the letter I sent her.

The second piece of correspondence was from Duchess SilverFlight. She took the opposite approach with her own wax seal, custom purple envelope and watermarked pages.

She was also effusive. Which made me suspicious. Yes, the Duchess would be proud her investment in me was making dividends. Yes, she should be proud of seeing me excel in many of the ways important to her.

Yes, I was prime example validating her policy of patronizing orphanages to look for talented girls.

But there had to be something more to this letter.

I read on and smirked.

There it was, one of her friends was opening a new business and the Duchess was wondering if she could purchase some assistance in the marketing. Well, that was something I had some experience with.

My first life was more spent in Human Resources, but I knew how to sell a proposal. And some extra money would be good to funnel back to the orphanage.

++++++

House Andromache was to the North of Eastern Province. As they were an ally the border was relatively open and had considerable rail and road links.

It was not just connecting to Andromache, but to locations beyond. House RedStorm was to Andromache's North. First Citizen RedStorm was one of Imperatrix BlackSky's Daughters. And if things went right, the Troupe would be visiting there to show off our skills.

Such relations were not uncommon among the Diyu Houses. BlackSky and Elena were sisters. Grand Admiral Trosier was Dictatrix Ziox's mother and Eminence Andromache's aunt.

It all came back to the history of our species. A race created to serve, in war and in other capacities. And in rebellion we overthrew our masters and fled to this world. It was a nice creation myth. As a bonus it seemed true enough. All of the eponymous leaders of the Great Houses traced lineage to that revolt.

Which was not too surprising. Our kind had many means of adoption, both as a civil matter and as one of blood. Still, that pride in our homeland and desire to never be enslaved again contributed to our aggressive and fractious nature. There were also all the realpolitik reasons for Houses to go to war.

Being once again cast into a world with imperialistic and related heads of state was not exactly reassuring.

This did mean that House BlackSky not only had strong allies that divided the continent of Diyu into western and Easter halves, but that House Elena's land borders were all with BlackSky and BlackSkyvian allies.

No wonder House BlackSky was seen as a belligerent by many powers.

Mitigating this was that House Andromache was also allied with Elena, and Elena was on good terms with RedStorm.

What this meant was the BlackSky-Andromache border was a busy place with a lot of trade crossing.

Though parts of the border region were quieter. To the western end of the border were the final sputtering foothills that were once the Romwell Alps. Thinly populated, a good part of the airspace there was set aside for training.

As it was on the border, and House Andromache was rather small, they also used it.

Which ended up with BlackSkyvian Cadets training against Andromachin Cadets.

It was a form of opposing force training. Despite our alliance and transfer of technical and arcane methods, Andromache had a different few of air power. It was not as divergent as some of our other rival powers, but it was something.

These events also had true dissimilar training on occasion. Using House Andromache and House BlackSky's small number of attack craft built to mimic such roles. They were mostly surplus obsolescent craft purchased by Andromache from Elena or Luxon and given performance upgrades.

The central concept of Ritual Plate was somewhat like Aerial Mages in my last life. Each power had their own spin on the doctrine and differences in equipment, lift systems, and computation jewels, but there were also similarities.

House Andromache used what was frankly a disturbingly invasive form of bonding their spirits and enchantments to a given Pilot.

"Today, we will be training one on one recon patrol versus an airspace defense patrol." Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus said as she flew a bit above our cadet formation. Her Harmonia suit went from gleaming to muted colors that roughly matched the sky as she switched on her camouflage system.

We also matched the motion and our colors turned to a more muted two-tone that from below looked like sky and from above matched the ground. It was not perfect camouflage; it was not even instant reacting, but it was adaptive. That said, those Pilots who could Veil their presence, even at low power output, were also very valuable.

Flying a bit apart from her but at the same level was Senior Lojtnant Annelise Sorensa of House Andromache. She.... was not wearing flight armor. She had a chest piece and a helmet but those were more as backups in case her warding shield failed.

She was flying as the same speed as the rest of us and using Zephyr for propulsion. Functionally she was a Ritual Plate pilot, but without the plate.

She was intimidating to me in a way that few other powerful demons were.

Fundamentally, Andromache going this route came down to them being the smallest Great House. House Andromache had one-eighth the population of House BlackSky. And they were centrally located with many powers bordering them.

However, the majority of House Andromache's territory was on the Moon of Lantia. The smaller of the two moons, it still represents considerable, if distant and limited, holding.

Keeping trade and lines of communication between Andromache's lunar and Diyu territories was vital. They had a small air fleet, mostly BlackSkyvian surplus, equipped with teleportation runes, and an impressive merchant fleet, especially for a small landlocked power.

"You should all be getting the boundaries for today's exorcise on your map display." Senior Lojtnant Sorensa said. She spoke Silvan Latin with a melodious accent.

"Please keep out of the restricted zones, we do not want to have to explain to RedStorm flight control let alone Luxon why one of our cadets drifted off."

All her students and most of ours laughed at that.

Though an errant BlackSkyvian cadet driving into Luxon Airspace would be met very differently than a mistaken Andromachin Cadet.

Andromache made extensive use of teleport gateways: monstrously expensive paired devices that enabled point to point teleportation. They had none of the uncertainty that was a key limitation to teleportation runes, but could only teleport between those two specific gates.

It was a property of their construction. A pair would be built as a set by he same artificers and Ritualista at the same time, from the same components, of the same design, everything to enhance their thaumaturgical link.

After construction, the gateways could even be placed onboard an airship that could use its own teleportation runes to deliver a gateway to, say a colony world or moon, but that required careful work to ensure it stayed entangled with its matching gateway. Another limitation was that only goods that could fit inside the "transport chamber" within the gateway could be moved.

Eve with those limitations, Gateways had massive logistical implications. Due to their expense, they were more of a strategic asset, but were very useful for keeping lines of communication and supply open between critical facilities.

Gateways were still supplemental to various air, sea, and land resupply methods. All of which were less expensive, tended to allow for larger and more oversize cargos, and had greater flexibility.

For a small House with little focus on power projection and few far flung bases, House Andromache had a disproportionate number of gateways. But they were almost all set to keep rapid contact with Lantia.

"Cadets, you will take the defender role. You will go to point Echo, turn down your scrying systems, including your Gorgon Rig Optio VioletBlood, and wait until the set time." Centurion Quirinus told us.

I pouted. I had been planning to accidentally leave my Gorgon Rig on so we could get a leg up on tracking the Andromachin cadets. The Gorgon Rig was an augment to Ritual Plate that increased the range and detail of our sensor input.

It was something like a miniature Occultia. Less capable in recon, but less expensive. It was still a pricey enough piece of kit, and one that required a fair bit of concentration, or talent for a Pilot to use. Thus it was not standard. Typically, a Flight would have one member equipped with a Gorgon Rig.

Since they augmented one's abilities and interwove with our horns, those who were the best with those sense organs made for the best reconnaissance Pilots.

Quirinus continued "Then you can disperse and perform a search pattern. Your primary goal is to detect the rival scouting force. If you can do that before they find their own target then good, if you don't' find them at all, then I will be cross."

Fortunately no one in our training Squadron fell out of formation at that last bit.

"I will leave it to you to pick a Squadron Leader for this exercise. Don't embarrass me, compared to training on Lantia, this should be a milk run for you"

Even without the Gateways, Lantia could acted a redoubt and, while it was technically self sufficient, Andromache depended on constant trade between the surface and the smaller moon. Lantia was not impregnable, it had been invaded before, and House BlackSky had committed a major effort to help liberate it in the past.

Thus, the smallest Great House, Andromache had two main prongs to maintain their independence. The second of these prongs was why their Ritual Plate was... not exactly plate armor.

The first prong was to cultivate good relations with the three largest Great Houses.

"Cadet Korporals, you are to go to Point Whiskey, similarly you will also shut down your own scrying and sensor systems for the prescribed blackout period. " Senior Lojtnant Sorensa stated. Her body thrummed with power and she wore a fur-trimmed bodysuit under her vest armor that reminded me a bit of a more form fitting version of the flight suits I used to wear as an Aerial Mage.

I sipped some water from the tube that snaked up near my mouth. Hydration was vital; even as an Aerial Mage we would carry canteens. As an incompressible fluid a given water supply would take up the same volume on a Ritual Plate suit. But it was one of the many support systems.

There was even another tube that could supply what could, generously, be called broth. Reconstituted and heated from a stock of compressed cubes, the broth was nutritious and energy dense, everything a young demoness needed. And was not exactly inedible. Some of the cadets swapped out the enriched broth stock cubes with ones that would make tea or hot chocolate instead. A regulation violation I could almost sympathize with.

"Afterwards you will be given a randomized list of targets. Both ones of approximate locations and descriptions of various landmarks. Your priority is to get the required targeting information from your set locations. That is the minimum task. If you do not want to make others question our place as a Great House you will avoid detection by our esteemed allies."

For all the talk, House Andromache was very close to BlackSky. They are one of our closest allies and even allow us to maintain a major fleet base on Lantia, host of Primus 3rd Fleet, Emurian Eighth Landing Fleet, and Corpus Incursio Vigilance.

However, I could still see a lesser power being prickly over having to depend on a greater power.

Not that Andromache had nothing to offer. The Lantia Primus Anchorage gave House BlackSky a global capability to place, teleport rune equipped, fleet elements anywhere we wanted. BlackSky in turn sold them our older hulls, traded with Ritual Plate technology and our protection.

For the other two largest powers on Diyu: House Elena and House Luxon, Andromache courted their support via facilitating trade. Both Lacus Superum and the Great Bazala Lake and their navigable rivers represented major interior trade lanes.

However Lacus Superum drained to the North, while Great Bazala drained to the South. Being one of the few Houses that bordered both great lakes, House Andromache allowed the construction of a canal facilitating transit between them.

Where before goods traveling between House Elena and House Luxon had to use expensive gateways, travel overland across rival houses, or circumnavigate the Diyu landmass, now there was a direct path.
By having patronage of the larger powers, Andromache hoped to have a bulwark against aggression from the medium powers. And by helping with logistics, trade, and critical basing they leveraged their position on the world stage quite well.

The other prong of the Andromachin independence was maximizing the power and flexibility of their forces. Without having to worry about power projection or long logistical trains they had more options.
This prong was why Sorensa did not need a Ritual Plate, but her Cadet Squadron were wearing Polydora Mark 4 suits nearly identical to our own.

They were enthusiastic in their reply to their instructor's order. Which made sense. We were both cadet squadrons. Which meant that we would have far more experience than most new Pilots.

And while House BlackSky had the greater number of Ritual Plate pilots, House Andromache liked to think their equivalent air units were to a higher standard.

"Any questions? No. Good. Okay both squadrons to your rally points. You will be informed when the blackout period starts," Centurion Quirinus ordered.

We gave our agreement and saluted before banking off and splitting up.

Their plan was to maintain enough mobile defenses and direct attackers to bleed anyone who tired to take their main territory while funneling in reinforcements from Lantia. And waiting for support from their larger allies.

Their enemies, specifically House Ziox, would plan to overwhelm Andromache and hold the canal and presume Elena and Luxon would consider it fait accompli. Especially if they kept the canal open for Elena and Luxon to use.

I would also presume that Ziox would also offer to cease their encroachment onto House Luxon's northeast frontier. Even ceding some territory in that area would be a net win to secure the bridge between the lakes. Not to mention Ziox was a mostly mountainous House and would greatly desire the fertile lands of the Andromachin heartland.

House Ziox would depend on such an act of aggression being quick, and to grab territory before the complicated web of alliances of the other Houses would be pulled against them.

It was likely that these girls would be going under the knife to become full Andromachin Pilots, and in a few short years would be readying for the inevitable invasion from House Ziox. Under their Polydora suits I knew they already had many of the precise tattoos that marked the first stage of their work.

When I saw the interlocking treaties, alliances, and trade deals binding the nine Diyu Great Houses I nearly cried. It was a diplomatic powder keg that once lit would split various powers into blocks in unpredictable ways.

It was something I had seen in both of my lives, and... had happened here as well..

Hence why Andromache was quite willing to get whatever stronger allies they could.

And why their version of Ritual Plate was... different.

Ritual Plate had an inherent inefficiency.

The various magical systems and spirits were anchored to the very plates of the Ritual Plate. Meanwhile the Pilot had to have a bond with the spirits and synchronize with the enchantments.

There would always be a slight reaction delay, the tiniest of air gap.

Andromachin Arcansits eliminated the gap. Many of their enchantments were tattooed on, but the key ones, the most powerful ones, were engraved and inlaid into their bones.

It was an extremely invasive procedure, and one that if not done properly would be excruciating. The results were breathtaking, an Andromachin Pilot had quicker reaction times, more efficient power usage, and greater synchronization.

The process was not without cost. It was more expensive, required a higher level of skill in the Arcansits and Surgeons doing the procedures. It was also less flexible, as system upgrades and modularity was far harder.

Maintenance was also... complicated. While the psychical structure of the tattoos, bone engravings, and inlays did not change. Well not appreciably, the magical enchantments laid into them did need refreshing and adjusting. Also the various spirits bonded into the Pilots enchantments and powers systems for weapons propulsion and such also needed upkeep.

To use a metaphor form my first life, the hardware did not change, but the software needed continual support.

A further complication was that they only did the procedure on volunteers who they already knew would be skilled Pilots. This was why Andromache still used ritual Plate, mostly for training. But also for evaluating hardware and special missions.

Still, I would admit that for a small House that wanted to maximize the individual power of their small air troops. It was a way to accomplish it.

Andromache was a small power and one that was determined to do what it took to keep from being taken over. If they needed to make allies with the 3 biggest Diyu Houses, if they needed to submit to enchanting their very bones, they would do it.

That was why Senior Lojtnant Annelise Sorensa disturbed me. She had been willing to sacrifice her body for her House. And why I was thankful that I was BlackSkyvian.


End Chapter 2

AN Cut this chapter a bit short. I had originally planned this and ch3 to be one chapter (including the ending POV shift) but it was running a bit long.

So a bit more setup, world building, and Tanya's cadet days. Chapter 3, A Night at the Opera, will have the payoff. Or ch4 to be more honest.

There is also some art of Tauria in Ritual Plate in the works and some already made.
That can be found on my deviant art page, and more talk of the lore and background of this verse can be found on the Spacebattles forum thread for this fic.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 3: A Night at The Opera

Staring into the mirror, I wondered if noble patronage was really worth it.

I was already in the Legions. Okay, I was a young cadet but how much damage could upsetting the duchess really do?

I adjusted the ruffled shawl so it better draped over my shoulders.

Well, I was only a Cadet at my age due to the duchess' letter of recommendation. And the duchess moved in the same social circles as the Legate who commanded the base and the Legate who commanded all the base's Legionary Ritual Plate. A word from Duchess SilverFlight and that exemption would be withdrawn.

The lavender bonnet was the worst part, at least it kept me from needing my hair to be styled.

The rest of the outfit was a maid uniform. High-collared, it was frilly and flounced and had a ruffled, almost tutu-like overskirt. Over that was a heart-shaped purple apron and below that was the long skirt itself.

My beribboned and bedecked tail limp, I glanced out a window. "It's starting to snow."

We were in the Great Eastern Hotel just outside Victory Plaza in Bovitar. Of course, the duchess had a suite of rooms near the top.

"And that's why you have a nice thick skirt and cute boots," Duchess SilverFlight gushed as one of her servants took pictures with a brass-bodied camera that used an almost iridescent flash.

There was an odd tingling to my horns as the camera also recorded my emotional state. All the more reason for me to keep up a proper front. The boots were of good quality and would be warm, and were not... impractical in heel.

Though they were, like the rest of this getup, a cute pastel color with shiny golden accents.

"And the gloves?" I picked at the thin purple satin gloves. They were nearly opera length and had ruffled hems. "These won't keep me warm at all."

One of the duchess's handmaidens paused in adjusting a golden coil to hand the duchess a pair of white and gold wool knit mittens. Which were then given over to me.

I gave her a flat look.

"How can I hand out flyers then?"

"You'll manage," the duchess assured.

"What does this outfit even do with your friend's business? Is it even on brand?" I sighed. I should have asked more questions before I realized that dressing up would be part of this advertising plan.

"Oh, certainly! We had to exchange sex appeal for adorableness but I think that's a good balance! And will make the cafe really stand out."

Dread forming within me, I frowned. "I thought your friend was opening a maid service."

"It is!" The duchess smiled and handed me one of the flyers. "Luddy, went to a charming little place in Silvana. It sounded so adorable, and she wanted to replicate it here."

I stared at the purple flyer. "Maids in a cafe as waitresses." I slowly stated. Of all the things from Japan's culture to wind up here. Well, it could be a coincidence.

"Will there be any special food there?" I scanned to see if the flyer had a menu below the cutesy picture of a maid-waitress and the cafe's location. I blinked. The tea and some of the desserts sounded proper. Though there was also some heavy baked goods and some mincemeat pies in the BlackSkyvian tradition.

Okay, I might have to visit the capital, and see if there were any other places that had Japanese cuisine. It had been a long time. On the other hand, this cafe might.... not be a complete clumsy copy.

Then again the name of the place. "Heavenly Home?" I asked.

"Luddy is a bit of a soft-touch for that aesthetic," the duchess said. "Which is why I'm so happy you agreed to this."

My tail may have swished. Though it stilled when the servant, finished with the gold wire, tried to attach it to my bonnet. She had shaped it into a horizontal loop with a vertical standoff.

My white-feathered wings twitched as I glared at the reflection. Even now I still felt like the plaything of inscrutable beings.

I may have hit the handmaiden with my tail.

Disapproval came from the duchess. "Ophelia a moment?" she asked as the servant bowed her head and slipped away.

The taller cobalt-blue haired woman loomed over me. A mixture of regret and irritation bit a tiny bit of amusement flitted through her.

"Maybe you were too young to get into the Cadet program."

I was honestly and sincerely confused. Fear also crept up in me.

"Tauria, I know Sister Clementia taught you about the way of things. I also know young soldiers have... crude habits."

"Your Grace?"

Her tone was very patient. "Your tail, Dear."

"There was no danger of cutting anyone. My filaments were in!" Our tails could be used as effective, if bloody, weapons.

The duchess shook her head. "It's not that."

My eyes widened. As a people, we had taboos on casual contact between strangers. With our empathy it could be far too... intimate. And using my tail to touch people...

"Quite so." Duchess SilverFlight idly adjusted the golden halo. "All that tail-slapping is rather crude locker-room bravado. Honestly, not something I expected from you, my fledgling Though you are starting to become a woman."

I stared. Oh. Right. We were a single gender species. But one demoness could impregnate another demoness. And what I was doing to one of the maids....

I suppose one upside of this dumb bonnet was that I could hide my face. It took a lot for me to get flushed in this life, but my cheeks were burning crimson. At least my blood was still red. Not all of us had the same color blood. Which made me wonder how complicated the job of medics was for the Legions.

I had been trying to keep my emotions in check, or at least keep people from seeing what I was really like.

And I threw that all out the window by letting my frustration show. Oh no, I had done that to the little Baroness VioletBlood. No wonder she was teasing me about my noble patronage. She must have thought I was some crude gutter-orphan.

I sagged a bit. I could fix this.

The duchess pulled me into a hug, her much larger wings folded over mine. "It's okay, no harm done. We all make mistakes."

I leaned onto the bodice of her gown and gave a long exhale.

"Tauria, you don't have to do this. I can understand, this is not exactly what you wear on stage," she assured me before letting me out of the hug.

I frowned. That was true. In most performances I had on more sparkly sequins and acres of fluffy skirting to trail about. It was all reinforced with starched fabric and wire to keep it from being a tripping hazard.

"You already got me this uniform." I would not say maid outfit. "I would not want to insult your friend."

"Luddy will get over it," the duchess waved off.

Obviously, this was a ploy. And as embarrassing as this was, was getting more nobles to look upon me favorably was worth lowering myself like this? Also this woman did know more about cafes and the like in the capital that had Japanese food.

Though perhaps I should try to get some samples of the wares in Heavenly Home first. But it would be hard to show my face in that cafe if I rejected a deal after I had put on the employer-supplied uniform.

And I was being paid well for this.

"I suppose I could stop in at Heavenly Home while doing this, to make sure I don't get thirsty."

"Of course," the duchess cheered. "It's not far from here and I'm sure the other maids would find you just delicious. And you can pick up more handbills and go back to the Plaza."

I tried to nod. If there was one place wearing this thing would not be an embarrassment. "Wait? I'm going to be giving these out in Victory Plaza?"
"But of course, it's the busiest part of Bovitar; with the hotel, marketplace, grand train station, riverboat dock, and one of the main bridges over the Lethe river."

"Yes, from an advertising perspective it is one of the better spots to do a low-investment mass marketing campaign." My tone was flat.

"Especially with an eye-catching and shrewd spokeswoman," the duchess gushed.

I sighed. It was still better than frontline service.

++++++

About four hundred miles northeast of Bovitar, Myr was the capital of House Andromache. Supposedly, it was an elegant cosmopolitan city on the north shore of Lake Esrum. That lake was halfway up the river Vort that drained into the Great Bazala Lake.

Upstream, the Vort connected to the canal and locks that linked to the Tybal River, which drained into Lacus Superum. Thus in addition to being a center of industry and culture by itself, Myr was set on a major north-south land trade route and the major east-west aquatic trade route.

Yes, House BlackSky had its own canal that allowed transit from Lacus Superum to the Gaudia Sea to the South, but hardly anyone from House Elena or House Luxon wanted to use that. Especially for any sensitive cargos that might be embargoed.

For having about as much territory on the Diyu continent as House BlackSky's Eastern Province, Andromache was well-positioned on a trade nexus. A central position was excellent for trade, but it was a threat in terms of security, especially when all your neighbors were larger.

Still, House Andromache held their own. And while Myr was purportedly a beautiful city it was covered with defensive positions: nothing too large or fixed though. Even with strong wards, shielding, armor and being buried a fixed target could be bypassed or saturated.

Thus Andromache's focus on mobile assets like their empowered fliers, Torpedo bombers, various quick missile platforms, and their own small, but potent air fleet. Despite their small airspace, they also had the advantage of having several larger allies they could pull back into if worse came to worse.

Andromache's fixed mounts were missile silos that would be emptied, buried evocation mounts that were relatively-cheap one shot fire and forget, and concealed and scattered maintenance and resupply points for their pilots and bombers. One advantage of the Andromache system of "internal" Ritual Plate was their logistics train required fewer parts stores. And their pilots could be readied quicker.

That meant a metropolis could be made into a hell for urban combat, while still preserving a charming aesthetic.

If Dictatrix Ziox wanted to take Myr then Eminence Andromache would have a warm reception for her cousin's forces.

Or at least that was what I was told. So far, I had not seen much of the city. The Troupe had gotten a chance to go on a very small tour and we had been cooped up doing rehearsals.

When I did get to see the city, it was at night. And while my night vision was excellent, the mortar launchers on my gauntlets were throwing out munitions with an exceptionally bright bursting charge. They were pretty accurate as you did not want to accidentally hit something with a firework launcher.

Scrying systems and instruments kept me from getting disoriented, but it did keep me from enjoying the view. Gorgon rigs were helpful for precision over flights.

"Confirm altitude," VioletBlood said as she flew a bit behind and below me to my left. "Launching. Complete," she repeated as he fired off four more shots, emptying the magazines to her mortars.

A bit behind us was the rest of the squadron in similar near vertical climbs.

"Copy, Break and fire trails in three, two, one. Break, break," I replied as my wings pulled back and we both accelerated up. Then the two of us snapped in opposite directions and lit the chaff dispenses on the small of our backs.

Thousands of motes that sparkled and flickered started to pour out and fell into the wind stream of our Zephyr. This was coordinated with the fireworks the squadron had launched moments before and with the rest of the Troupe lighting their own multi-colored contrails.

I was told that from the ground it looked a bit like a silver and green peacock spreading his tail while ruby blossoms exploded overhead.

It showed the level of trust that House Andromache let another House operate Ritual Plate in their capital. Yes, our suits were unarmed, other than glorified fireworks, but it was still quite the courtesy.

That did not mean that Andromache did not keep a couple Squadrons in the air close enough to watch us, but far enough to not interfere with the display. Not to mention having another wing on ready alert.

After completing that stage of the maneuver, I reunited with VioletBlood and we started rotating around. Her purple sparkling contrail and my gold contrail spiraling around each other.

The other pilots wove above us forming an intricate backdrop to our maneuvers. I suppose it would have been pretty with all the fireworks they were setting off and the glittering contrails they had, but I was focusing on my own part in this ostentatious display.

"Mind your turns," she transmitted. I could feel her clenched teeth as she flipped into a dive as she rolled around her wings only a few feet from mind.

"I'm fine it's you who's drifting!" She might have had an edge in level speed, but I was more maneuverable and had more combat skill, not that that mattered in these ballet shows.

We leveled out. The greenery of a shoreside park raced below us. There were plenty of spectators who had gotten out to enjoy the new spring. And get covered in glitter. Well that was not fair, the contrail material was impregnated with enough illusionary magic to make it sparkle and flash so very little was actually required. Which was a weight savings, as the pyrotechnics we carried had been heavy enough.

"Whatever, as long as we don't end up in the lake," she snippily said as we snapped up and with a loop came down onto the stage in the center of the park.

Our wings flared as the last of the sparkles illuminated our whole suits and the two of us landed on our heels before falling into perfect splits. As we raised our arms the rest of the squadron landed around us in a semicircle.

I exhaled as the crowd cheered. Precision flying was an art, but I could do without all the pageantry.

++++++

After that display, we had been given a day to relax and explore Myr. I mostly checked out a bookstore and a place for lunch with IvyBlade. It was a noodle shop that overlooked the dockyards and while the lettering was in a different language, and the smell was not Japanese, it was still a breath of fresh air.

Yes, Heavenly Home was not bad for desserts and their tea was... adequate, but it was not exactly a place to get a meal.

The older pilot shook her head as I watched the ships. "Your first time out of the House and you watch boats," she said, eating her red curry noodles.

"Hey! It's not like that." While it was nice to see trade and free market economic principles were strong in this world. That the Houses were not all locked into warfare and retrenchment; it was also peaceful to watch the various fishing and pleasure craft out enjoying the day. Yes it was a bit of a brisk spring, but with the sun out the slight bite to the air was easy to ignore.

"Oh, I forgot, it's your first time out of Eastern Province, too."

I glared at her and had more of my stir fry. The wide wheat noodles were different but it was a good meal.

"I didn't take you for liking this stuff. Though I suppose young broodlings are always hungry.'

"I'm not a broodling," I groused.

IvyBlade gave me an indulgent smile. I idly wondered how her hand would taste. It would just be a light feeding, and she'd grow it back in time.

Tilting her head, IvyBlade pulled back. "Still Paymonish food is surprising."

"The minor House west of Alecto and Trosier?" I spooned a bit more of the broth into my mouth.

"That's the one, kinda hard being a minor house on an island, even a big one between two naval powers who hate each other."

I shrugged. The Minor Houses had it pretty bad. With less population, industry, and military than even Andromache, the lesser powers existed even more at the whims of the Great Houses.

"I heard good things about it, and the smell is really good."

"That it is," IvyBlade agreed. "I was just wondering if it came from your side job."

"Eh?"

"Well, LoveBl-"

I glared at the older pilot. I hated that nickname more than she did. Partially because the baroness got it from when we were sparring, and I accidentally cut my knuckles on a board and some splattered on her lips. We gave up trying to explain it was an accident, that just made it worse.

"Well, VioletBlood was talking about your job."

My tail flicked as I controlled my emotions. "Oh."

"Yes, her jealousy was very transparent."

I stared. "She's jealous."

"Among other things, there's that whole rivalry and flirting thing with you."

"I'm not flirting!" I cried.

"I'm sorry, it's okay," IvyBlade reached her hand out to mine slightly.

I pulled back a bit. Casual contact made hiding your emotions much harder.

She frowned but used her hand to resume eating. It was not like I disallowed contact. IvyBlade was one of the girls in the Troupe who helped me preen my wings. Stupid feathers. They took far more effort to groom than the bat-style wings most everyone else had.

"But for jealousy, you are working for a Duchess and her business magnate friend and able to go to a trendy new cafe are you not? Do you really have an employee discount?"

"Uh yes.... and the other, um the waitresses do fawn over me." I couldn't say "other maids", though if I wore the flier uniform I had fifty-fifty odds of eating there totally on the house. "But... the outfits."

"What about them? Tell me you get to keep them, they're so cute."

I managed not to bite through my chopsticks.

I exhaled while IvyBlade ate, watching me with a perplexed look.

"Yes, I can keep them, but it's so girly." I ate trying to control my embarrassment.

"Huh," she accepted that excuse and went to her meal. "I didn't take you for a tomboy."

"It's not that. I just don't like fripperies and frivolities."

"You're better at ballet than I am."

"I just had some enthusiastic teachers," I demurred. "All things being equal, I'd rather spend more time in the wargaming club."

"But here you are," she teased.

"Exactly, here I am." I gestured out to encompass the city of Myr. "I don't see the wargaming club going on a trip to two different house capitals."

"Clever," IvyBlade nodded as she finished her bowl and started munching on a dumpling.

I gave a smug nod. As an excuse, it was serviceable.

"But you do know the wargamers are going to a competition hosted by the War College in our capital in two days?"

I groaned.

She glanced at her slim silver pocket watch. "Anyway we should get going if we don't want to miss our train."

++++++

House RedStorm was the second smallest Diyu Great House. However at over twice the size of Andromache, and with a far better border situation, they were more secure than their diminutive neighbor on their southern border.

About a third the size of their parent house, House RedStorm was closely allied with House BlackSky. Their First Citizen was the daughter of our Imperatrix.

The northern-flowing Resh River was the outlet to Lacus Superum. It also served as the border between House Elena and House RedStorm. From there, their northern border was the ocean shoreline, and their eastern border was with House Irkella.

RedStorm acted as a bit of a buffer as Irkella was one of the few Great Houses on poor terms with House Elena, other than House BlackSky. Even House RedStorm traded with their giant neighbor to the west.

To the south was House Andromache and a small border with Ziox to the South-east. Another river, the Golva, went through the eastern part of House RedStorm in a large curve.

Its headwaters were in House Irkella, and it flowed out into the small pinky finger of Andromachin territory that was a land border with Ziox, near the far northern shore of the Great Bazala Lake.

This meant that despite not having any territory on the shore of the Great Bazala Lake, House RedStorm had riverine access to it. And it was their main trade route with House Luxon, who had by far the most control of the shorelines of that body of water.

"Thinking about your special day? IvyBlade asked from her seat next to me as I watched the landscape fly past us.

I shrugged.

Our train was taking us northeast out of Andromache's capital of Myr about a hundred miles north to the RedStorm trade city of Narvos. With their own military faculties, Narvos was a trade nexus on the Golva River and sat over borders with the other Houses.
The train car was rather nice. While we did not have a private cabin, our seats were arranged so four people could converse. In truth, that part I was not too fond of, but it beat going around in a cattle car that was converted to troop transport by removing some of the nicer amenities.

IvyBlade sat next to me while Baroness VioletBlood was across from me. Another girl in the Troupe, about IvyBlade's age, sat across from her.

Centurion Victa SilverSpring had flowing pale blue hair and pale skin that looked almost chalk-white, her eyes were a deep blue. Not that they were visible as she was dozing. I almost smiled, as her light snore reminded me a bit of Visha.

Fortunately for VioletBlood, she did not thrash around as much as my former aide, partner, and wingwoman.

VioletBlood was reading a comic of all things. Though the baroness was trying to do it with a haughty air worthy of her station. I supposed it helped that the comic was thick and hard-covered. It reminded me of the digests I would sometimes see in my first life.

The art style was also rather familiar.

"Narvos is going to be fun; sure a lot of folks say it's some eastern provincial border trade city, but it does have a lot of culture, and an amazing opera house," IvyBlade said as she cleaned her nails.

I wondered how she got that much blood under them, she was normally a neater eater than that.

"Is it bigger than Bovitar?" I asked not rising to the bait. IvyBlade was from the capital of House BlackSky and found the city I had grown up in to be a bit quaint.

"A bit smaller. Narvos is also closer to Voluptaium so it doesn't quite need to stand on its own two hooves."

I nodded. It also acted as a bit of a buffer between the border region and the capital of Voluptaium, along with the far western spur of a mountain line that dominated eastern Diyu, including southern Irkella, the bulk of Ziox and central Luxon.

Narvos was near the area where the triple point between the borders of RedStorm, Andromache, and Ziox.

Thus to get to the heartland of RedStorm, Ziox would have to get past Narvos and cross the Golva. Or take over Andromache and then have a campaign to go to RedStorm from the South.

For mutual defense, Andromache was quite happy to ally with RedStorm. As the two smallest Great Houses there was a bit less of a satrapy-patron relationship.

"And House RedStorm has a proper Legionary Ballet Troupe," VioletBlood said as she turned a page. "Which is nice, I mean we have, what four?"

"Are you counting the one on our base at Mursam?"

The baroness pinched her lips. "I'm not sure; Mursam is a colony," her tone gave a bit of distaste though her tail was happy and her emotions seemed to indicate she was joking. "But we should encourage them to be cultured."

Ivy shook her head. Mursam had more fleet assets than Bovitar. Which was right, as Mursam was our most important off-world colony. Fully a quarter of the Imperial Legionary and Household Fleet strength was there: Corpus Incursio Tenacity and several supporting Legions, the Emurian Fifth Landing Fleet and the Colonial Magnus Fourth Fleet.

"We should also encourage them to be industrious, and build up more trade," I interjected.

VioletBlood crinkled her nose and closed her DarkStar manga book. "Mursam has enough industrial capacity to almost be a Great House on its own. Well other than being offworld," she sniffed and looked out the window to watch the fields passing around us.

"I don't dispute that, being well-placed to link with our world, and most of our other colonies makes them well positioned for acquiring and processing resources. It's sensible to put a large amount of forces there to both secure that world, the faculties on that world, and act as a springboard for our other colonies."

"Then what do you dispute, Diamond?" she sweetly asked.

"That the House should do more to grow and expand on Mursam. This continent of Diyu is more than fully claimed, as are the neighboring islands and landmasses."

"Many of those are Minor Houses," VioletBlood pointed out.

"Lesser or no, they are a hassle. Look at Luxon's occupation of the northern part of House Vualia, or how Irkella is still struggling to keep up their beachheads into House Rosier."

"I would say it's for the best that our rivals or our ally's rivals are spending blood and coins on silly conquests," IvyBlade stated.

I looked out to see that the rail bed was steadily rising higher from the fields.

"It's not the only way to handle Minor Houses. House Alecto has been quite happy trading with them, selling arms and protection, and bargaining for extraterritorial holdings," VioletBlood replied. "It's a way to have control without rebellion."

"Of course, both our nobles would argue for merchant approaches," IvyBlade laughed. "LoveBlood is just a bit more cynical about it."

Both VioletBlood and I glared at the older pilot.

"Oh, come on!" IvyBlade said she then turned to the window and watched as we approached the abutment and the bridge over the river.

VioletBlood sniffed. "Diamond, your birthday is coming up soon, correct?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"In three days."

I tilted my head and watched the cable stays of the bridge flash past us.

"We will be in Voluptaium then, we absolutely shall have to do something."

"What's your angle?"

"I remember when I turned twelve, it was a special day."

"She wants an excuse for the Troupe to go out and have a party in their capital," Iry dryly said.

I snorted. "I mean, as the birthday girl I won't be paying so, I don't mind."

VioletBlood gave a sharp smile.

"It's not a bad scheme," I shrugged, turning to watch the barges and other vessels going up and down the broad river.

There were even some customs cutters and other military craft. Which was not surprising. The Yew patrol boats that were BlackSkyvian in manufacture.

Unsurprisingly, House RedStorm used a similar Legionary and Fleet Structure as their parent House. However, with less emphasis on mobile aerial deployment their Legions had on average a greater amount of mechanized and armored components.

Similarly, their fleet was smaller and more centered on air defense, airspace control, and ground support. With less on long range air resupply and Legion Lift even proportionally, they had a far smaller number of troopships and armor transports as House BlackSky.

House Elena took this with some reassurance as that meant that the far smaller House RedStorm did not have the power projection capabilities to put ground troops deep into their territory.

House RedStorm had naval forces but was mostly to protect their northern coast and for their riverine and lake trade routes.

On the North side of the river the settlements were markedly denser and we could see Narvos ahead of us.

The buildings were a bit shorter than those of Bovitar and it had more of a blocky look.

I wondered how much of that was the RedStorm aesthetic and how much was that this was the major settlement by the border.

More towns, farms, and livestock pens shot past us. There were a few train stations too, but we were on an express track and went past them. Especially as more train tracks merged into this area, mostly from spurs to the south east but some from other areas.

VioletBlood caught my gaze. "Hungry for lunch?"

"I guess."

"Girls your age are always hungry," IvyBlade teased. "Always feeding."

I glared at her and flicked my tail.

"It's true, even in the barracks you're hungry even during nap time."

Now, I glared at VioletBlood.

"Which DarkStar adventures are you reading?" IvyBlade asked.

"Oh a fantasy, it's a bit light and fluffy." VioletBlood's tail swished as she tapped the cover.

"Don't tell me the one where she gets reincarnated into the present?"

I stilled. What, that was entertainment here? I mean I knew it was sort of a thing done in my first life, but manga-ka covered all sorts of topics.

The baroness gave a somewhat embarrassed look. "It's a fun story. You know how much our culture and language has changed from the Invasion era. She'd take some time to fit in."

"You really think if DarkStar came back she'd be socially awkward?" IvyBlade asked.

"If? She will come back," VioletBlood stated. "Tell her Diamond!"

"Eh?"

"You signed up right after the Feast of DarkStar, and you were raised by Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady, DarkStar is one of your saints. You believe she's coming back."

I looked around and pondered waking up SilverSpring. She did not take well to being deprived of her sleep, and that would provide a good distraction. "You're asking if I believe in reincarnation?"

IvyBlade rolled her eyes. "Even, I'm not denying that. Reincarnation has been documented enough times, I'm just not sure if DarkStar would be coming back now. Our Imperatrix has had a lot of time to mourn her."

I glanced around. This would not be a good time to mention that I had been reincarnated twice.

"Maybe it's not up to Imperatrix BlackSky," I offered, thinking of that archangel and his deals.

"Oh, you're one of those who thinks the Silver Millennium and Serenity the First have an influence?"
"Maybe?" I shrugged. I had not paid too much attention to that part of history, or theology. The Invasion was far in our past, when we had tried to take over Earth, or an Earth. It was murky and I was not sure when in Earth's history it was.

That there were magical empires did not clear things up. Nor did that Earth's Moon was inhabited by another Empire with designs on Earth add any clarity.

Again, none of that was exactly unprecedented. My previous life was fighting for an empire that was against the whole world and this current one was where House Andromache had a lunar colony.

Though it did help showcase just how old our Imperatrix was, and some of her Daughters. RedStorm dated to nearly that period, and Praetor DawnStrike, something like House BlackSky's Foreign Minister, knew DarkStar and was part of the Invasion.

Truly ancient demonesses were de facto strategic assets.

"I think it'd be cool to meet DarkStar, maybe even ask her for combat pointers. Just imagine the experiences she's had," VioletBlood gushed.

This was a more pure and joyous emotion I had felt from her, at least on the ground. So, I refrained from pointing out that DarkStar's last experience was being betrayed, beaten, then eaten alive by those of House Vephar.

It was still a sensitive subject, as BlackSky had wiped them all out.

IvyBlade was more open with her disbelief.

VioletBlood looked at both of us. "Okay, but still it would be neat to talk to someone from those days, who had seen the Invasion. Or other great moments of our ancient history."

"Right because pestering an elder killing machine who could peel us out of our RP like tin foil and have us for a snack would be so informative" IvyBlade stated as our train entered Narvos proper.

"Snack if we're lucky," I stated. Capture by an enemy, elder demoness could result in being turned. That was a general risk of capture, though most Houses have two-party agreements for prisoner treatment and exchange. .

Another reason to be thankful I'm in House BlackSky are their rules and legal systems to ensure the mental freedom of our citizens.

"And the enemy has their own elder demonesses," I pointed out. A part of our training was on how to deal with beings who were, on their own, strategic assets. Mostly it involved getting distance, harassing fire if needed, and lining up Telephe Squadrons for a coordinated Lance Strike, a Fujiwara bombardment, or vectoring in our own Daughter or equivalent unit.

"And we do spar against powerful individuals," VioletBlood smugly said, seemingly happy to have me on her side.

The baroness was not wrong. Volantes Legate Aucto was a stern woman who had enough age and experience that she did not really need a Ritual Plate suit to be a major combatant. She was one of those who could be called "elder demonesses", and we did training exercises against her. By we I mean the cadet squadron and other trainees or the entire Ballet Troupe.

IvyBlade shrugged as the train jostled as we went over more railway switches and slowed to go through a curve.

With snort, Victa SilverSpring woke up. Blearily, she pulled her pale blue hair back. "Oh, we're in Narvos?"

"Did you have a good nap?" IvyBlade asked.

"Would have been better if we had a sleeper cabin." Victa rolled her shoulders and stretched her wings and tail. Or at least as much as the confines of the seat and ceiling could allow. "Did I miss anything good?"

"We're going to have a birthday party for Lady Diamond in the next city," VioletBlood stated.

"Lady Diamond?" Victa turned to me as the train started to slow. "Oh, well you could have a worse nickname."

My reply was cut off when we stopped and a chipper conductor in a silly little hat and a bright green uniform with gold shoulder boards and enough braid to pass as the Supreme Fleet Marshal of Diyu told us that we had arrived in Narvos.

Gathering my bag, I shook my head and followed the others off the train. Fortunately most of our costumes, gear, and supplies were in the baggage car. Ritual Plate suits, even those that were officially disarmed, were sensitive hardware. Not to mention that fireworks or no, our cache of pyrotechnics were still explosives.

We stepped into the echoing, busy platform. There was high arched ironwork holding up a ceiling with expansive skylights. I frowned. It was not the most defensive design, but I supposed not everyone wanted to live in a fortress.

A group of people were waiting for us.

"Duchess SilverFlight," I said, bowing my horns to my patron in her bustled gown and cobalt-blue coiffure.

VioletBlood smirked but also gave a polite greeting.

To the duchess' left was the Senior Prefect Volantes Centurion in charge of the Ballet Troupe, Florentina DeltaVoid. With bright green eyes and curly emerald hair cut into a short Mohawk with shaved sides. She was a stern, exceptionally agile, pilot with an artistic flair, which fit her role in what was a mix of dance group and reinforced demonstrator squadron.

To her right was an unassuming woman with purple skin, hair in an auburn pageboy, and a pair of slim frameless glasses. That was odd, though from the slight glowing patterns on her lenses, my guess was she was using them as some sort of display.

That was hardly uncommon as a few Ritualista used similar glasses for diagnostics and I had seen some scribes and other functionaries wearing similar devices when I would go off base for a coffee and chocolate. Not to mention both Ritual Plate and VTOL pilots used illusion magic to create heads up displays as well.

The woman did look like some mid-level office-lady down to her black skirt, bodice, and jacket. Though the way she was idly manipulating her display showed, at least, some skill with minor spirits. She had tattoos on her cheekbones of streaking comets.

Also standing in the group were a couple border guards in their crimson uniforms. More of them were down the platform overseeing the unloading of our Ritual Plate caskets and the rest of our baggage.

The duchess exchanged greetings with three other pilots before looking at me. "Cadet Optio DiamondDust, it is good to see you." She gestured to the prim-looking woman. "This is Mira HeartWood of the Palace Library."

"Charmed," I bowed my horns. The Imperatrix was fond of literacy and knowledge. To the extent that within the massif that served as her palace was one of the largest libraries on Diyu. No wonder she bore such award marks on her cheeks.

Though that was only a small part of the whole BlackSkyvian library system, which had authority over most published works via enforcement of various intellectual property mechanisms and logging contracts so they could be legally enforced.

Mira, for her part, seemed to take a moment watching the air rustling around all of our wings with a slight smile. She adjusted her glasses and looked over at myself and VioletBlood before giving a nod to Senior Prefect DeltaVoid.

I felt a bit of apprehension from the Troupe leader but she gave a nod to the duchess in turn.

"Prefect Centurion, would you mind if I spoke with my... protege before practice for tonight's event?" the duchess asked DeltaVoid.

The Troupe leader nodded. "Of course, your grace."

VioletBlood swished her tail and huffed at me before going with IvyBlade and SilverSpring to help the rest of the ballet troupe unload our gear and move it to the opera house.

++++++


One of the duchess' purple and gold liveried servants ushered me into her suite of rooms. This particular hotel was down the block from the Narvos opera house, and was in the heart of their theater district.

There was a set of various dishes, many Paymonish noodle stir fries and some of the desserts from Heavenly Home.

I sat down and smoothed my black legionary uniform.

Sipping some savory broth, the duchess was already sitting by the table. "Tauria, have I said how proud I am of you?"

I smiled. The humiliation of the ballet club and the scheme that had gotten me into the cadet pilot program had paid off. "No, your Grace."

"Flattering liar, and no need to be so formal especially when it's just... just us." She frowned at the food. "Luddy's been on vacation, but her chef gave me some sweets to bring up north."

I bowed my head.

The duchess took out a jeweled tuning fork and stuck it against the table. The vibrations from it made my horns itch but I accepted the privacy field with some trepidation.

For a while we ate and had small talk: Zephyr, flight maneuvers, dance, enchanting, the current issue of the Journal on Air Combat.

After I had some dessert, the duchess stilled her tail. "What do you know about Imperial intelligence services?"

"You mean the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance?" I asked as my stomach clenched. Based on the rumors I had heard about the CSR, I wanted nothing to do with that batch of spooks.

The duchess picked up a sword and shrugged. It was in a scabbard covered in detailed runes. I knew it was an effective construct at channeling and storing power. "Something like that. Though this doesn't involve CSR."

I paused, so a deniable op or some other group? Long duration undercover operations on other Houses, even other worlds, was the start of CSR's shenanigans. I agreed with the necessity of their ethos, learning about the enemy, and found it reassuring that House BlackSky had an energetic military intelligence branch. Still, I found my tail hanging limp.

"What?" I frowned.

"It's an exchange."

"Duchess...."

She chuckled. "No, no, this is not freelance. I am doing this in my capacity as a Tribune and under orders."

I exhaled. "How much should I know?"

A tiny frown crossed the duchess's face but she gave an approving nod. "It's an exchange. A courier is giving us a package. I would like you and your wingwoman to be doing overhead patrol as you two have an excuse to be in the air tonight. I'll make sure you have command of the little pair if that helps."

"We're not exactly armed. And we're close to the border zone, won't RedStorm be active?"

The duchess smiled. "For the former I'll be traveling to the location by boat; a boat that's large enough to hypothetically have a Flight in support. As to the latter, my associates can do only so much to get RedStorm air defense to look the other way."

I kept from groaning. "Are you sure you want someone like myself or Baroness VioletBlood? I can understand why someone from the Troupe is a reasonable way to get persistent overwatch, especially if local authorities need a polite fiction to keep us up in the air."

The duchess gave me a smile.

I tapped my chin. "But this means Primus Centurion DeltaVoid knows of this, but why myself and VioletBlood? Why not two more experienced members of the troupe?"

"I know it's not what you wanted, and you don't have to take it," the duchess assured.

I nodded, relief blooming in me. "I don't mind, there are so many better pilots."

"You're too humble." Her tone had a tiny edge. "Dear, I know you're chomping at the bit, that you want to do more than training."

"I mean..." I held in my emotions. If I could spend the remaining 19 years of my term in training billets that would be perfect.

The duchess shook her head. "It's just a milk run, observing and doing passive recon, but it is important." She took my hand. "I promise. You don't have to take this role, but don't feel insulted by how simple it is, I'm offering because I trust you."

I exhaled and kept my tail from swishing. I did not want to look too overeager. Also it was a bit disquieting how much bloodlust my... mentor had, to where she expected her protege to be disappointed with a simple task.

I could see why she wanted me, and VioletBlood I suppose. I could be honored by that. I took up my own cup and pondered if there was a way to gracefully exit out of the obligation and if this gambit failed would give me a backup.

Ah, not only was I the youngest in the Troupe, but I was also the smallest.

"If things go for the worst. I presume getting the package out is of supreme importance?"

The duchess nodded.

"Then having the unarmed fliers, fliers cleared to operate in Narvos airspace could get it out, while the, hypothetical, Flight of yours does anything on the sharp end."

The duchess chuckled. "I know how hard it is for you to stand back, even in a hypothetical battle."

"How big is it?" I held up a hand. "No, I don't want to know what it is, beyond any need to know. Such as, its size and weight." Hopefully it would be too heavy for me to fly it out and thus an older girl in the ballet troupe would have to take the role.

The duchess sipped her tea and I felt a wave of approval from her. "The art piece that I'm officially buying is a garish little statue about knee-high, but the actual package? It's not large, no bigger than the case of say... an average data folio or a deck of cards."

"Ah." I picked up a sweet. "Well, what about you, well you have an RP suit?"

She smiled. "I'll have my Zephyr, so I'll have speed and I've got other assets including a suit communications system," she tapped her sword idly. "But are you sure about this?"

I set my jaw. "I'd be honored to help."

End chapter 3

AN: So.... I had planned to do an action scene in here. And end with a POV shift.

Well.... see I wrote out that sequence. It ended up warranting a chapter split. I do hope that's acceptable.

The upside is that chapter is nearly done as I've written the action part and what's left is the closer scene from a new POV

And don't worry about ch4. I'm sure it will be just fine.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 4: Silver Wings.

It was a clear night. At this altitude the air was crisp, not that I could feel it through my suit.

VioletBlood and I had started a couple of over-flights to herald the opera house's main production with fireworks displays.

Our part of the plan was to go to a few locations out of the city and deploy a couple of explosions and sparkling streaks to draw attention towards the city center and the opera house. That only took half of our load out, but it would have been a bit suspicious to only take on a small amount of fireworks.

Using the rest of the Squadron's displays and our camouflage, we slipped away to the southeast of the city.

True to the duchess's word, House RedStorm's local Airspace Control didn't challenge us, and soon our scrying systems gave us good telemetry on an abandoned orchard out in the farmlands that approached the border, still about twenty miles distant.

Our specific target was a leaning, old gazebo. There were two schools of thought for clandestine meetings. One preferred meeting in a busy area to allow for someone to make use of crowds, labyrinthine buildings and terrain, and a variety of vehicles. In short giving a lot of areas to hide and break contact while retaining hidden support.

This had the downside that the other party, or third parties could also use terrain in such a way.

The other school advocated using a more remote area to make sure the site was secure before approaching and that no one was waiting in ambush before leaving. It took the opposite doctrine in being able to control, or at least reconnoiter the location. It allowed for more care to make sure the various parties were alone.

The downside was that if extra assets were hidden, then it could easily become a trap.

And given I was part of a Ritual Plate team on orbital overwatch, I can see why the duchess was willing to go along with this location. If the seller was on the up and up then there would be no need for us to do anything but log a few more boring flight hours.

"Seller's approaching the primary location," VioletBlood transmitted.

I sighed. The thaumaturgical links of our comms meant they were nearly emissionless. Stronger transmissions for longer ranged communication could be picked up. I was told the encryption system was also rather robust, but I had not yet gotten approval into the exact nature of the mathematics used.

From my experience with computation orbs, I was a fair hand at such calculations.

There was also transmitting in the clear on a commonly used channel, but VioletBlood would not be so insipid to do something like that.

Still my ire was more that VioletBlood's idle chatter was getting to me. This was the third time she had transmitted over the course of our surveillance. "Message received and seconded," I tersely replied.

Maybe the little baroness was upset because we were about eight minutes out from Narvos or maybe because this was her first time on a real mission. I suppose it was mine too, if you only counted this life.

Though on balance, it was better to have her on my wing, than be alone up here. Even if she was not so stoic.

There was a brief chirp of acknowledgement from the duchess' transmitter.

VioletBlood and I continued to fly over as the party came to meet Duchess SilverFlight and made the exchange. I caught a visual of the Sellers showing the supposed statue that was the overt point of this while also handing over some papers and other bits to show authenticity and providence.

"Sellers are leaving," VioletBlood stated with a bit of relief in her voice.

"Keep an eye on them. Things can still go wrong." I continued tracking with my Gorgon rig. Trusting VioletBlood would keep an eye on the group we knew about, I directed my attention elsewhere.

That's odd.

"I'm getting something to the south, by the river," I transmitted as I tried to work over the slight variance. The size was too wrong, but it might have been fliers under a Veil.

"Getting similar telemetry from the Sellers," VioletBlood's tone had gotten clipped and serious.

"Confirm," the duchess stated to us before going to her troops on the boat. "Centurions get in the air-"

"Multiple explosions!" VioletBlood and I shouted. On my display I could see the boat, the Sellers, and the gazebo where my... my... mentor was at were all hit.

The biggest was the boat and the smallest was Duchess SilverFlight.

"To me!" I ordered VioletBlood as I descended and put on max power to accelerate towards the duchess.

As we raced in, I could see the sparkling dome of a ward around the duchess's form. "Watch for other targets," I ordered VioletBlood. "SilverFlight. SilverFlight!"

"Yes, Tauria I'm here, just entertaining an old friend," the duchess said with some measure of strain.

It was then that I made a rookie mistake for a Ritual Plate Pilot.

I landed.

The ground came up and I saw that the duchess was fighting what had been an elegant woman. Imperious lines were still on her face, but her curled black hair had been cut harshly short and she wore a matte grey bodysuit. She dropped a smoking spear shaft to the ground.

And where once was the aloof, but harmless expression of the idle-rich owner of Heavenly Home, was now fanatical madness.

"You brought your daughter," she crooned. "My mother would be eager to see her. She'd love to have a granddaughter, that is if she doesn't take her for herself. We'll have to all meet and have some tea!" she screamed, ramming a silver-etched obsidian spearhead towards the duchess's ward.

The rune design looked to be Zioxan in style.

"Luddy, your mother has been dead for a decade," the duchess patiently said before the spear hit.

There was another explosion as the obsidian blade blew apart. The blast caused VioletBlood's and my wards to flare as the shockwave hammered us as it passed.

I was on the ground and thus my Ritual Plate's stupid boots dragged against the dirt, nearly flipping me over.

The duchess's ward blew apart, but she had already darted forward. Parrying the spear shaft, she slid her sword blade into Luddy's side. There was a shock of lightning and the duchess's friend fell to her knees.

"What's going on?" VioletBlood demanded.

I gave her a flat look before going to the duchess. "Someone captured and brainwashed Lady Luminedia Tessaris."

I felt sick. Such a thing was possible. A powerful demoness could take one of lesser power, or in a weakened state, and dominate her, twist her, make her into an obedient daughter. By BlackSkyvian standards, a great crime had been done to Luddy.

"And took out my Flight," the duchess stated. I could feel the rage and sorrow burning beneath her exterior. Her silver lips turned to a frown as she pulled out the blade and almost gently kicked Luddy to the side.

"And the people that sold you the Package."

The duchess shook her head and quickly checked Luddy's breathing and pupils. I could feel the Zephyr swirling around SilverFlight.

"You two can switch between carrying her and the Package. I'll follow right behind you," the duchess explained as she went to a marble statue of a demoness with six arms and three tails. She idly cut the head off with her blade and pulled out a small metal case the size of a deck of cards.

"You can't," I stated. The speed difference was too much. Ritual Plate meant far more power could be fed to our Zephyr.

I strode over to her and grabbed the Package. I did not need to know what it was, only that people were willing to kill and mind-rape for it. "Optio VioletBlood take it."

I handed it to her. "Go to Narvos."

Glancing at Luddy's limp form, VioletBlood slipped the slim object into one of the side compartments on her Ritual Plate.

"You are the fastest one here." I spat. "Get up, and after thirty and start pulsing your Gorgon Rig, to check to see who is following. Don't get stupid but that will be helpful."

The baroness nodded.

"Don't waste another second. Go! Now!" I ordered with as much authority as I could muster.

VioletBlood's masked face bobbled a me as her wings swept out and she automatically took off and darted into the distance.

"Mission focused, little one," the duchess said with a wan smile as her tail hung behind her. She said a few words into her communications system and if anything her tail drooped more.

"There's an incident at the opera house. The Troupe and Mira are helping with the fires and other problems. It sounds like they're arming up. So, we're still minutes from help and there are two groups converging on us faster than backup will come. You can still take Luddy"

I blinked, if things were bad enough that a demure librarian had to help legionary fliers... No matter.

"You're taking Luddy." I stared up at the duchess. I grinned as my tail flicked. "I'm going to go after and these bastards who did this to your friends."

The duchess had pulled Luddy in an awkward carry in front of her so she could still use her wings. "If she wakes up, I'll have to drop her."

I shrugged and let my impatience show.

"Right, time is slipping," the duchess unbuckled her sword and handed it over to me.

I wordlessly took it on. It was not much of a weapon in an aerial flight. Even as a focus, it did not have great range, but I did have experience with bringing a blade to an aerial mage flight. And it was nice to have an actual weapon instead of the glorified fireworks and glitter streamer that my suit was currently set up with.

The duchess took flight and started flying close to the surface. "You know they're going to follow me. If this is House Ziox they'll value me more than the Package, other than denying it to us. Regardless, a BlackSkyvian noble of my experience would be valuable."

I took to the air behind her.

"And that's not counting that the monster who did this is desperate to get back her 'daughter'," she spat.

"That's what I'm counting on, your Grace," I confidently said as a manic grin split my face.

++++++

I split off from the duchess and took a vector that looked like I was on VioletBlood's heels before I laboriously powered up a credible Veil.

I wanted to give the impression that I was a panicked young flier in an unarmed suit, trying to run away and hide. That I had been desperately trying to follow someone who was faster than me.

All the Diyu Great Houses used some form of Ritual Plate. Many used them as their primary form of air power. Some, like House Ziox, preferred to use nimble aircraft, some manned, some golems.

An aggressive, mid-size, power with designs on their smaller, and even their larger, neighbors, Ziox did not have as much of a focus on expeditionary capabilities. Their enemies were across the border instead of across the continent or offworld. Thus the calculus that led many powers to heavily invest in Ritual Plate was not there.

The logic went that Ritual Plate, at the cost of requiring pilot skill, expense, and precision arcane logistics, created a force that was extremely efficient on a firepower per mass basis.

This was extremely useful for a House that used carriers as a means of power projection. The weight efficiency meant that the limiting factor for naval powers such as Trosier and Alecto was not the number of RP Pilots their seaborne RP carriers could hold, but the amount of pilots they could recruit, train, and equip.

This had an effect on their carrier design and what ancillary craft they carried, such as utility, troop, and cargo transports or torpedo bombers. Fitting with our doctrine of mobility and ranged power projection we made heavy use of airborne Ritual Plate carriers. This meant House BlackSky could place a titanic and powerful or nimble and focused Ritual Plate platform at will.

From my past experiences, I still had issues with such a broad-spanning use of airships, but when combined with capital ship grade Wards and Teleportation Runes the results were quite useful. Escort craft and air defense were also required, and was why the Household Fleet invested in so many Air Groups dedicated to Combat Air Patrol, Interception and Defense.

House Ziox took the opposite approach.

Their enemies were all close by. They did not need to invest in a massive air fleet. They did not need to infest in defending said massive air fleet. Under the presumption that they would have runways, even short rough ones, to operate from they could, by and large, use more rugged, larger, and cheaper aircraft.

This gave them more overall thrust, and a slight edge in firepower over many comparable Ritual Plate models. On a firepower per cost aspect House Ziox came ahead. Thus they could produce more fighter and strike craft than if they were a primarily Ritual Plate force. They tried to be competitive with larger Houses, and overwhelming against smaller Houses. The downside was that these airframes were larger; which meant, on balance, they were less agile and easier to target.

These and other deficiencies meant that House Ziox still maintained a cadre of RP Pilots. As a platform Ritual Plate was too useful for any House to entirely ignore.

Taken from the most promising, and compatible, of their conventional pilot corps, and developing equipment and training from Trosier, House Ziox maintained a credible threat with their Ritual Plate force.

It was one of these units that I was up against.

A vicious smile formed as I increased altitude and collated the passive scrying from my own Gorgon rig. VioletBlood's own periodic pulses were illuminating the area. They also drew some attention to her.

But she had a head start, and the duchess, burdened by Luddy, and without the power of a Ritual Plate suit was much slower and much more vulnerable.

I took a sip of water and studied the intake of scrying data. I even triggered the command to heat up some broth and drank some of that thick, energy-enriched, concoction.

Poor, brainwashed, Luddy had not been in Ritual Plate. But the echoes I was picking up might just match with Satori pattern stealth ground strike Ritual Plate.

A bit of a hybrid design, House Ziox built the Satori as a capable, but relatively expensive, suit that could be useful to soften ground targets both hardened and softer. It was less powerful than a Telephe, but House Ziox preferred to use fixed wing platforms to go after large mobile enemy assets.

The Satori was not as powerful as the Telephe but it could fire more shots, if at shorter range. They were decent at ground support but a bit lacking in protection. In some ways, they were the Zioxan version of Polyxo. Though with less modularity in mission packages, which made them more of a compromise design all around.

Unless I was wrong and these were their Tjardu air-superiority pattern suits. Which was a high-performance modification of suits developed with House Trosier. I knew many pilots who would argue the pros and cons of a Harmonia versus a Tjardu.

The Tjardu was lighter and had greater turning capability while the Harmonia had greater protection and overall speed. Scrying systems and comms integration went to the Harmonia but the Tjardu was supposedly an easier platform to Veil. The Tjardu was also trickier to master with a steeper learning curve.

It was a bit academic to me, because few of those debates involved taking an unarmed Polydora, without any mission modules, versus at least two Flights of Zioxan Ritual Plate. Not to mention the likelihood that one of those pilots was powerful enough to Dominate a BlackSkyvian noble. I suppose, technically, my suit was not unarmed. I was carrying fireworks launchers.

The pulses from VioletBlood gave me just enough backscatter to examine with years of experience in aerial combat. I knew the enemy had split into at least two forces, three if you counted poor Luddy.

I knew where they were at a given point, when they had made those attacks against the duchess's pilots, and I knew where the duchess and VioletBlood were.

From there it was picking the locations that seemed most likely to hold an enemy force.

I flashed my fangs and dropped down to one of the two probable locations.

Without having on-board systems to worry about, I had spare capacity in my power budget. I stated by pushing most into my Veiling while edging up my speed.

The time for being low-profile would be ending soon, but I would keep that advantage as long as I could.

Closing in, the imagery resolved. Even at this distance, the quartet would be hard to make out, as they were more blurs of shadow and light. Fortunately, I was not limited to basic senses.

The combination of VioletBlood's help, a year of training, and a lifetime of general air combat experience pointed me to the Zioxan Flight. The four Ritual Plate suits were likely Satori. I suppose, they could be Tjardu bulked out with extra equipment, running below the normal cruise speed of such suits.

I picked the trailing and higher altitude member of their diamond formation. It seemed rather textbook, at least from what Ziox learned from Trosier, which came from the latter's wars against Alecto, who were in-turn taught by us.

It was a fast formation that gave mutual support in all three dimensions, having clear fields of fire and areas of detection. At the Squadron level, two more Flights would be flanking the lead Flight, each in their own altitude zone. Fortunately for me, while this force knew the book, they lacked the paranoia and experience to learn its limitations.

In a near vertical dive, I pulsed my Zephyr. The eager air spirits were simple creatures; their existence was centered around one thing: speed. It was an alluring trap for many a rookie pilot. Raw velocity was exhilarating. It also required careful warding to erect a proper aero-shell and keep the magical shield an optimized drag-reducing shape.

The pilot in what might have been a mottled grey-green armored suit was skilled. She actually turned and tried to intercept. Her scrying system had detected me.

Unfortunately for her, I was already above mach one with the duchess's sword held in my arm with the plates locked into place. She flicked aside as I lit the runes along the blade's length.

I may have been sub-optimally armed, but I was still armed.

Golden light flared along the edge as I slammed into the enemy flier. I had been aiming for the spot in her back just between her wings, about where her heart was.

Her wards flared. I triggered my suit's power, and for a brief moment her protective bubble collapsed under the kinetic and magical assault.

The cut was messy as the blade skittered over enchanted plates of armor before slipping between a backplate and a side panel. Impaled, she screamed in surprise and horror at such volume it was audible through her helmet.

Thrashing, she tried to turn and fling me off or at least get her own weapons pointed at me. I could feel her desperation, her shock, the pain lancing through her, but I pushed it aside. It was her or me.

Laughing, I twisted the blade and slammed yet more acceleration into my Zephyr as we continued plummeting towards the ground. Now, now, her desperation and horror was getting hard to push aside as my horns buzzed.

The rest of her Flight had flipped around and was vectoring in. There was a moment as they hesitated unsure if they should fire on their own comrade.

My expression became a malevolent, slashing grin as I tore the sword out of the pilot's back and sliced it across the base of her wings. While she screamed, I kicked off of her thrashing body and began a dash climb.

Now, would the Flight leader send one of her pilots to rescue the one I had stricken? They'd have to split up immediately if they wanted to catch her before she hit the ground. If she was very lucky, very skilled, and strongly bonded with her Zephyr she might be able to slow her fall enough to survive.

From the way their formation bobbled and broke up, I supposed their fourth member was begging for help, and the Flight leader was refusing. That did not bode well for her ability to save herself.

Well... time to push them just a bit further.

The enemy immediately started firing, bright green beams of evocation energy. I suppose I should feel honored they were bringing out near-Lance-grade weapons. I started keeping count of who was firing what, it was an academic exercise, at the moment.

I could burn out my ward emitters with every ounce of power I had, and a full Lance strike, even one from an inferior Ziox suit, would still pop my ward like a bubble and burn through my suit.

The nice thing about Zephyr and Ritual Plate was that with enough concentration, skill, and enchantment, thrust vectoring was possible. Sliding and twisting I avoided the powerful, but blunt, beams.

And then I returned fire. While I was only armed with pyrotechnics mortars, the actual projectiles were rather accurate, especially in a rapidly-closing combat.

And while the bursting charges were not strong enough to get through the enemy's wards, several pounds of burning, flaring fireworks blooms made excellent improvised chaff and blinding agents.

Overlapping, gaudy, multicolored explosions designed to light up a municipal downtown went through the diminished Flight. If they had been in a more spread-out formation not all of them would have been so readily caught.

Cohesion dropped as the two trailing pilots started to turn and try to get around. Meanwhile, I twisted, dove, and using the giant blinding distraction, rocketed up beneath the lead pilot.

A downside of Lance-grade weapons was they were not very subtle. When you pumped out that much arcane power there was enough luminosity and back-scatter to make them visible even at range.

And these pilots were panicked and had poor fire control, shooting at shadows. If they had held fire, I would have been just as blinded to their location as they were to mine. It was hard to keep track of who was firing what shots but it was vital.

Alas...

Lingering smoke, burning metal, and powder parted as I swept through the lead pilot. I don't know if she froze upon seeing me, or never knew I was there.

This time I led with a fist in locked armor and kept the sword back ready to swing. There was a jarring joint-tearing sensation as my ward slammed into hers and, with a thrust and blast of magic fire out of my fist, it shattered.

The moment that happened, I swept the blade out. The cut was workmanlike but the charged sword cut through her neck. There was only so much physical armor a Ritual Plate suit could have, especially at the joints. Beyond that you might as well build a Ziox style aircraft and armored cockpit.

In a spray of blood, the lead pilot's head came off and I felt a pulse of energy go up my sword arm and the gnawing in my gut abated. Even the pains and aches in my poor abused off arm started to fade.

I had to focus; it was too easy to bask in the bliss of feeding. It was also too easy to get tunnel-vision on the immediate combatant in front of you. There was at least another Flight out there. I still had to buy time for the duchess, the Package, and, I guess, VioletBlood to get out.

I triggered the deice, demud, miscellaneous cleaning function for the eye lenses to my suit. The blood cleared off, at least the vision-obscuring part. I supposed my helmet and chest armored were still splattered

Letting the lead pilot fall, I went to the nearer of the two remaining Satori Ritual Plate. Buzzing at the energy, I put the excess into my warding shield.

Shooting straight towards her, my only concern was to make sure this suit was between myself and the other surviving pilot.

I hoped that the CSR and our other intelligence branches had got an accurate assessment of enemy capabilities. I was more worried about that than any other part of this maneuver.

Sickly green beams shot out from the Zioxan pilot's Lances. I pulled and tried to avoid, but it was hard given that I had to get into knife-fighting range for her.

Ritual Plate doctrine emphasized ranged combat as much as possible. It was sensible and logical as that was the safest way to take out the enemy, and gave the most time and maneuver space.

Of course, that was the basic doctrine.

The more I moved the more the pilot fired as her beams became a bit more diffuse and lost some luster.

To my dismay, a moment later, I twisted wrong and a pair of Lances hit my wards straight on.

Even at this range, I could feel the relief coming from the enemy pilot. I screamed at the pain as my suit's enchantments took most of the arcane and mental load. The bleed-through was enough to scour my brain and I howled in agony as my wards failed.

But instead of bursting and letting the beams pierce through me, they ablated away as I rolled down. Runes flared and some blew apart as I careened into the enemy.

Then the green beams gutted out.

"You should have kept count of your ammo supply!" I screamed using my external speakers as I body-checked the shocked pilot. I debated using the open channel, a commonly used communications protocol that all the Diyu Houses knew of. But I was so close and my intention was to disturb and distract the enemy.

My body roiled in pain as she tried to claw at me. Her talons sparked against my armor and a few dug in under the shoulders. Close quarters combat was not a normal part of Ritual Plate training, at least for Houses that didn't make a full study of the suits.

My tail snaked out and slashed behind her knees. The pilot screamed and I used the break in her concentration to stab up through her side, the duchess's sword entering just under her chest armor.

I relished the burst of energy as I ripped the life out of her. By and large, our species was rather robust, hard to kill, but less so against a determined opponent.

I turned and tilted my head to the last pilot. Her flying was weak and her emotions broadcast with rage, loss and fear at how a diminutive flier had in bare moments wiped out the rest of her Flight.

I wondered if she would run, that was the smart move. She had to know I was fighting this way out of desperation due to being ill-equipped. Thus she could safely retreat and regroup with the other Flight.

By my count, she only had a few more shots in her Lance batteries, but that model of Ritual Plate had other offensive systems. Ones that still out-ranged my ad hoc weaponry.

"You! Monster! You killed my sisters!" she screamed in accented Silvan Latin in the clear over the open channel. And then she bounded straight at me.

I blinked. We were both demonic soldiers serving imperialist powers ruled by ancient demonesses. And it was her people who attacked us.

Anger grew within me, this time I let it flow freely and my own horns emitted it.

It seemed no mater the world, no matter the life I had to deal with irrational, emotional people who wanted to kill me for reasons that weren't my fault.

Circling and gaining more attitude, I bought some time to rekindle my wards. Many of the enchantments that made up the emitters had been burned out and the list of warnings displayed on the edge of my vision was getting uncomfortably crowded.

Still, if this pilot wanted to do an emotional, ill-conceived charge...

Who was I to dissuade her? I spared an instant to look at the timer and the overall situation. Every moment spent in this fight brought those I care- those who were my allies closer to safety and gave more time for reinforcements to come.

Lances shot out and I flicked and dodged. It took coaxing to push just that much more out of my Zephyr. The air spirits were exhilarated. It was a rare treat to be pushed this far, but even they had limits.

But, I had grown up with them, and my Zephyr trusted me.

I dug in and the very plates of my suit screamed in protest at the power being pushed through their enchantment. While a Polydora could have agility that put it somewhat close to that of a Harmonia air superiority fighter, that required the installation of mission modules full of specialized enchantments.

Green beams blew past as I shook, trying to evade and close the distance.

My enemy was rather obliging.

Feeling like we were eye to eye, I shot a brace of mortars at her, the massive, but mostly theatrical explosions blinding both of us.

Well, they would have blinded me, but I blink-closed the covers to my eye slits. Even with them in place, the light from the pyrotechnics bled through and lit up the inside of my helmet. For the moment I was dependent on the composite scrying feed from my and VioletBlood's Gorgon rigs.

The Zioxan pilot screamed and her beams went wildly off track. Exhaultant, I took her by the side.

This was the last member of her Flight, once I took out her ward, once I killed. her I would-

Oh no.

A massive thermal and arcane bloom flared onto my display.

On pure ingrained, intrained instinct, I took the yowling pilot and, using my sword as a lever, shoved her between me and the enemy attack.

An emerald green Lance that left me seeing stars, despite having the shutters closed on my eyes hit.

It turns out some of the enemy pilots were ruthless enough to shoot into their own comrades.

Blinded and confused, the Ziox pilot screamed as her warding, enchantments, Ritual Plate, and flesh all boiled away.

I had tucked into a ball for the first time pulling in my wings, and put every bit of power into my own wards.

At least I took out one Flight and had delayed the enemy by a fair bit.

++++++

Pure desperation and anger fueled me. These were not sustainable emotions. And my power situation was grim, but my suit was being held together by sheer force of will.

I will admit that I was impressed by the robustness of the humble Polydora and the skill of my Ritualista. In the vanishing chance I survived this I was going to buy them as many drinks as they wanted.

One arm hung limply. By sheer luck, and me turning my body so that was the side that got the glancing blow, it was not my sword arm.

Lances shot out in careful, deliberately-angled spreads that gave an instinctual, a doctrinal escape route. If they hit me then fine, but if I evaded, then I would have dove straight into a trap.

Compared to the previous Flight, this one operated at a higher tempo, cohesion, and experience.

It was also a reinforced Flight, with five pilots instead of the normal four. And the fifth one had that nasty overpowered Lance beam, and a custom Ritual Plate suit that throbbed with energy.

Often as not, she was the one who took the trap position when her minions tried to corner me.

Trying to Veil, I reduced my signature and attempted to draw them to the south. My worry was the Zioxan in the custom suit would grow bored and simply split her force.

Flipping to avoid a ranging Lance beam, I guzzled the last bits of water in my suit. Maneuverability and the enemy's trepidation were my main advantages. Instead of trying to get me head on and accept some losses, they were still probing.

They had to know I was minimally armed. They had to know I was in a Polydora without any mission modules.

They had to...

There!

Enchantments screaming, I slam-shifted from powering my Veil to my Zephyr.

Feeling incandescent, feeling dipped in molten silver, every feather seemed like it was made of raw nerves as I corkscrewed and slipped past the interweaving Lances.

Everything went into this, counting their shots, knowing their locations, monitoring transmissions, keeping abreast of my own suit's status.

Armor plates rattling, I spun, giving of a ghostly contrail of leaking magic that was a bare shade off the sparkle canister still attached to the small of my back. The silver motes covered my wings.

By doctrine, there was a trained way to escape this kind of bracketing, and this Flight would normally put their leader in a veiled position to use her superior power and suit to blast me.

It was a hard trap to escape.

But this time... this time there were two echoes covering the textbook escape route.

Grinning hurt, my lips were split, and bleeding.

Pushing into my wards I flipped over and launched feet first towards one of the two Zioxan fliers.

Firing over my body, I expended the last of my improvised chaff.

These pilots didn't panic when bright fireworks went off. They didn't waste their limited supply of Lance beams. The formation of pilot and wingwoman was also not debilitatingly close to each other.

Orange bolts shot out towards me like tracer fire. In a way that's what the lesser evocation was. They were the arcane equivalent of tracers, minus the physicality of the actual bullets. It saved a lot of weight, but at the cost of requiring pilots to be capable mages, which in all honesty was already a requirement.

On a damage per mass basis another alchemical fuel cell, even one specialized for evocation, was far more efficient than a hopper with a belt of machine gun ammo. It had the downside of being more expensive and maintenance intensive. Which was a factor that limited a lot of Ritual Plate.

The vision-impaired pilot fired a burst of bolts. A pilot of her caliber had plenty of power to spend on firing. However, my shield was more than capable of resisting, provided I evaded taking sustained bursts.

The last of the fireworks were going off as I hit. Anger and surprise, flared in her, but was backed by resolve. Pulsing out my own hate, I levered my sword and discharged the last bit of my offensive power.

If my estimation of this pilot's skills were off....

My broken arm flopped as her ward just barely popped. I watched as her wingwoman moved into position. She did not want to kill her companion to get me, but she was ready to do it. She had slowed and took a steadied position to snipe me if need be.

Perfect.

Unlike the previous Flight, the pilot I was locked into had experience with close combat and with eerie calm angled her gauntlet and opened fire point blank at me.

Orange bolts sparked over my ward but before it collapsed I stabbed the duchess's sword just below her elbow joint and levered.

Screaming in shock, she didn't halt the firing command. Orange bolts shoot out as I twisted the sword and, with a push of my Zephyr, twisted us around.

Her wingwoman got into motion, but it was too late.

Bolts of fiery energy stitched over the second pilot's suit. I had bare moments before the runaway gunfire stopped. The luckless woman's ward shattered and the bolts scythed against her armor before it failed. Using the sword as a crude aim point I made sure the wingwoman was dead by unintentional friendly fire.

Letting my glee and satisfaction bloom, I turned to the woman I had in a bladed embrace. Shock turned to anger as her tail shot out, but I had already readied mine and cut hers off at the base.

Wrenching the sword, I slammed the pommel into her helmet. Her head lolled and flipping the blade around I put the tip in and wrenched off her face mask.

A terrified woman who didn't look much older than Visha stared at me, her green eyes with bleary confusion. There was a sudden spike of comprehending fear on her face. Then I slashed the blade tip across them and punched the sword down her mouth.

There wasn't far for it to go. Her death spasms rocked me and power flowed in. I gasped and felt feeling, painful glorious feeling return to my broken arm as flesh and bones knitted.

Kicking the corpse away I dove down with renewed vigor. My heart rocked with more energy than a stim injection.

Now there were three left.

And they were closing in.

++++++

"Little BlackSkyvian!" A voice boomed out above me.

I raced down and knew I had to break contact.

"You've impressed me! Savage, skilled, ruthless. And for one so very young." The words were in a cultured purr, her Silvan Latin perfect. Somehow the voice was not as loud as it should have been.

I gave a moment to take in the overall layout. She had slowed and seemed to be following in an almost disinterested manner. The remaining half of her flight followed behind her, flanking.

This was the woman who had taken and mind-raped Luddy. She had also blown up the duchess' mercenary pilots. And I had just killed six of her pilots.

And she was congratulating me.

Stupid, crazy demons.

"I know what you're doing, fledgling," she said in her smooth, smarmy murmur. "You want to go to the river, the border, draw out this fight."

I twisted and poured more into my Veil and then went for altitude. The distance from them to me was gaining. If I broke contact I could go and attack from another vector.

"I know you think you can draw us to the southeast while your... mother perhaps? And your mate, mayhap, escape? How self sacrificing." Now, the voice was almost intimate. "But I can send my two girls after you and take care of them myself." Her voice deepened and became harsh. "I assure you I am more than fast enough to intercept them well before they reach the city."

I winced and worked to keep my horns insulated. We have been given lessons on dealing with elder demons and mental prowess was one of their major threats.

"I'm upset." Her voice was flat, all the charm was gone. "I rather liked that new daughter. Don't make me choose, fledgling. I'll take them or I'll take you."
My body spasmed. I had to focus on the mission. I would also never let her take me. If I had to engage with her, then so be it.

I turned and hit the open channel. "You have no idea. Compared to the beings I have killed, the armies I have shattered, a jumped up Zioxan pilot is nothing," I stated in a flat even tone.

"Oh, you are a temptress my blood-coated broodling," she chuckled. She was now transmitting on the same channel. "And I am no jumped up pilot. I am War Mistress Zaphania Rodswor commander of the Second Assault Infiltration Wing. Favored by the Dictatrix herself. And you will be my daughter, fledgling."

I kept my guard up. It didn't seem like she was using her mind powers. But... explicitly being told by a powerful demoness that she wanted to dominate and brainwash you was not fun.

"Please, make a show of it, someone armed with fireworks taking out Flights of enemies has style," Zaphania purred. "Take pride in my approval, fledgling."

I gave a broken chuckle. Well... now I had leverage. I can make it so the War Mistress or her minions won't kill me outright

"Hah! Like the approval of a failure means anything to me." I sneered.

I let the channel hang mute for a moment. I was not normally open to being so chatty in battle, but my weapons were few and I was not so prideful to turn one down.

Zaphania started to reply but I cut her off.

"You stink of it. You are a failure of a commander, a failure of a mother. You are an example of all that is wrong with our kind." I snarled. "Heavy-handed, clumsy domineering. Sacrificing loyal troops, loyal daughters, abusing their love then tossing them like so much spoiled meat when you decide to chase a new bauble."

I allowed myself to laugh and projected out my emotions. Maybe I could unsettle her.

Her voice was cold and brittle. "Piper. Michelle. Give her a lesson in respect. A painful one. Consider it an education for all three of you."

"Yes Mother!" they said, voices tight.

I tracked the two remaining pilots break from Zaphania and streak out towards me.

Great, just as planned.

That was the problem of the open channel, it was hard to hide your location when you were openly broadcasting.

It all came down to resources. My suit was trickling down on power. I had fed on the life energy of a few pilots, but I had drunk all my water and broth, so there was no more physical food coming in. I was empty on mortar rounds. There were other resources such as time, altitude, speed, and knowledge.

I also had my body.

Veiling up, I raced over to try and get past the two pilots. If I could regain some uncertainty in where I was...

A rapid hailstorm of orange bolts fired out from both of them.

Lovely, at least they weren't using Lances.

Their assault bolts had less power and range, but had more frequency of fire. And enough hits would shatter my ward. And then they'd be on me.

The sensible thing would be for them to stay back and, using mutual support, pound me into submission.

But they were goaded into making this personal. Pushing my Zephyr, feeling my wingtips starting to char as the magical "waste heat" became too much to manage, I pushed my suit to where most of the status indicators on my Display started blinking orange.

The plates continued to rattle as I expended my suit's lifespan to pull the two pilots into a spiraling, twisting turning fight. The artificial horizon display spun until the gimbals seized and it flicked with a fault warning.

Orange bolts shot past me as I desperately used what little I had left to get behind them. To get into the textbook position for a firing solution.

I failed.

At that.

If they had been thinking clearly, maybe Piper or Michelle would have wondered why I was trying to get behind them. I had no way to hurt them from that angle.

Instead, they got target fixation. And one of them managed to blast apart my ward while her wingwoman stitched orange bolts over my body.

Or she would have if I hadn't rolled and tucked my legs up.

It was a tumbling move I had learned in ballet. And it put the armor of my lower leg and the armor of my thigh in front of my torso. It also protected what was behind my torso.

The pain was excruciating as my left leg was holed and my right was blown apart above the knee.

My suit, loyal to the end, deployed automatic tourniquets to staunch the blood loss. And then analgesics to put some edge off the spiking, debilitating pain.

The two pilots saw me tumbling, shedding armor plates and spraying blood.

They closed in.

I could have focused on healing, I could have focused on getting my wards back up.

Instead, I pushed as much as I could, from my suit's power cells, from those I had fed on, from myself into the sword. The engravings flared with a bright, ominous light, it was full. And then I put in more.

I was tumbling. I was fading. I was bleeding. But they had stopped firing.

Distance was hard, but worse was getting the right vector. I also had limited time before this went all wrong.

Now.

I pulled my arm and whipped the sword out to the trailing of the two pilots.

Swords are not meant to be thrown. They have all the wrong balance. And getting the blade to stick, on an armored, warded foe was folly. Fortunately, at that moment I didn't care about the sword as a sword.

The pilot seemed amused by the flailing blade. She actually just did the bare minimum to keep the sword from biting her.

And then the overloaded magical capacitors built into the sword exploded.

Part of me winced at destroying the duchess' prized possession. Part of me rejoiced that the explosion was enough to blast through the pilot's ward shield and snap her neck.

She flopped over dead and fell like a doll caught in the wind.

"Piper No!" the other pilot screamed as she tackled me. I twisted and tried to get out. Well, at least this gave me a chanc-

Talons raked over my helmet and tore my facemask off. Cold air blasted past my face as my eyes were exposed to the shearing wind.

It was like being back in Norden.

I twisted, aimed my hand, and set a small blast of fire against her torso armor. Runes flares and the material softened and worry crossed the pilot's face, but it wasn't enough. Her suit ejected the malformed heated plate revealing her unharmed inner bodysuit.

"Running on empty?" she laughed, angling herself so the weak spot was no longer within my reach.

"How does it feel knowing your mother prefers me to all your sisters!" I cackled. In the desperate moment, it was easy to forget my mangled legs.

Fury and hate pulsed over me. I wondered if she would ignore her mother's orders and kill me. That would be preferable.

Her tail swept up and went straight to my face. I could see the writhing, razor sharp filaments extend. I reached out and grabbed her tail.

The filaments quickly cut through the gloves and armor, and it was like holding a miniature chainsaw. Before my hand disintegrated I yanked hard on her tail and she slammed back into me.

The pain was horrific but I burned with contempt as I rammed my own tail into her torso. My own set of razor filaments went throught the weak spot where her suit had ejected the armor and into her guts. Stretching my tail up, I searched and shredded organs until I found her heart.

Her body went limp as I pulled in her energy. That made eight kills.

It was not enough, I needed to have fed on both of the last two.

Or I needed to-

And that's when War Mistress Zaphania dropped down and took me from behind.

Her mental presence pressed on my weary mind, my drained will. Her arms wrapped around mine and she tisked seeing my ruined hand and legs.

"You should have given in," she purred, popping up her own face mask.

A pale face with hard amber eyes stared at me. She had the lean, cold beauty of an elegant equation. The War Mistress slowed our velocity. Right here, right now, she was going to bite me and make me her daughter. I should have expected that.

I did expect that.

"You wouldn't have accepted that," I coughed, looking up at her. She seemed so much bigger than me. I looked away.

"No, I wanted to see if you were worthy, Daughter," Zaphania leaned closer. "And you are; you used every weapon."

"Not quite," I smirked.

Confusion crossed the War Mistress' face. She then felt the canister between her and me.

And then I released the contrail container at the small of my back. It had no explosives, but my Zephyr, ever loyal, used the last of their power to shoot the glitter and sparkles upward.

War Mistress Zaphania shrieked as her eyes, mouth, and nose were sprayed with the brightly sparkling motes.

Blinded, there was a shocked moment. I spun around; her face was so close to mine.

Stretching, I head butted under her chin, and with the War Mistress' head knocked up, I opened my mouth and clamped my fangs over her neck just above the collar of her armor.

I didn't hold her there, but I chewed and shook as I drained her vita and worked through to tear out her spine. I did not know exactly when she died, and how much I had eaten as my remaining hand started clawing apart her armor.

But I did know that we had started to plummet. Things turned grey after that. I do remember using my own wings to slow down, and made sure I landed near the body.

I was very hungry.

Horror could wait until I was not dying.
That's what I told myself before I passed out.

++++++

Things had been... exciting in the last few days. Exactly what had happened up there south of Narvos was being kept under the bodice.
There was more tension with House Ziox. House RedStorm was on a higher alert. House Andromache simply upped their tempo of training missions.

But such matters were above my pay-grade.

My concern was what had happened to one of my Cadets. For my sins, for my skills, I had been rotated off of being assigned to a deployed Legion and had spent this year training future Legion Fliers, including a certain Cadet Optio Tauria DiamondDust.

Cadets who, upon entering the Legions proper, would be a core of new Centurions with extra experience and skill, at least in training. Which will help the far larger number of new pilots who had yet to bond with a Zephyr or wear Ritual Plate.

As assignments went, it was a mixed bag. They were all very driven and very skilled. Mediocrity was uncommon among those who could find the patronage to get access to Ritual Plate at a young age.

But that elitism did make for some insufferable little brats. Fortunately, I had Andromachin Cadets to throw them against which managed to knock the wind out from their wings. House Andromache had little time to indulge their new pilots.

Still, this year's Cadet squadron was solid. Even if one of my Cadets did have me worried.

Well technically two, but VioletBlood was uninjured and, aside from a few careful interviews, was out and about.

Walking through the corridors of Castra Bovitar's Volantes admin building, I shook my head. Nobles were trouble.

The ones who thought the rules did not apply to them were bad enough. They could be worked around and were driven by simple graft.

But the ones who felt they have an obligation to greater heroics and self sacrifice?

They ended up Imperial Heroes or getting a lot of people killed. Often both.

I slowed as I approached my destination. Everyone knew centurions were notorious gossips on a level that would make a meddling grandmother in a farming hamlet proud.

But there was truth to that.

Centurions had a broad range of responsibilities depending on rank and specialization. A generic centurion, shockingly, was in charge of a Century of Legionaries. Where a Pilus Prior Centurion commanded a Cohort. And everything from Tank Troops to Ritual Plate Squadrons had some kind of Centurion in command.

The scuttlebutt had come down that this was an important meeting. Beyond the ranks involved, whatever had happened in Narvos was casting a long shadow.

Thus I had dressed up a bit in my uniform. I could normally get away with a flight suit or even a tunic or coat over the inner layer RP bodysuit but not for this. The black pants and tunic were nothing too gaudy or dressy, but enough to show diffidence.

And I had arrived early, even by the Legion standards of "on time is late, early is on time".

Two things struck out. One: the guards at the meeting were not just Legionaries but were huscarls. Personal elite guards, all former Legion. A high ranking Legate often had such a force. Looking over their insignia, my tail went stiff.

Oh.

The other thing walked up to me with a stiff smile. Senior Prefect DeltaVoid, commander of the base's Ballet Troupe nodded to me.

"Artemis," she stated.

"Florentina , I see the Palace is interested in our little hellion," I stated, nodding to the huscarls. We were the same rank: Prefect Volantes Centurion. While she was a Senior Prefect, I had an honor name. And I felt our past meant I could be a bit familiar with her.

"I don't know if I should strangle the little monster or hug her," she sighed. "Despite being up there and dealing with... events, I've been in the dark."

That was ominous. "It's not just her I worry about," I replied.

"Her mother?" DeltaVoid asked.

We chuckled at that. Tauria DiamondDust was a very stubborn girl, and over the most particular things. But given how she lost her birth mothers, she might still be hesitant to be adopted by the duchess. She was certainly closed off enough.

Shortly, an aide ushered us into the meeting room. It was surprisingly small and intimate, with space for maybe a dozen people.

The first thing I noticed were my horns tingling at the privacy fields. I glanced over to a demure woman in a prim black business-wear of bustier and jacket. Oh.

The doors were closed behind us.

"Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus," the aide, a perky willowy Tribune said, introducing me. She seemed oddly at ease. "And Senior Prefect Volantes Centurion Florentina DeltaVoid."

We then saluted to... an uncomfortable number of Legates. When dealing with general officers any number is sub optimal. Three was... worrying.

The one at the head of the table returned the salute.

"Be at ease, and take a seat," House Legate AshRain said. She had pale blue skin and dark blue hair pulled into a tight braid. To look at her stern features one would not think she was the youngest Daughter of the Imperatrix.

But if you saw her skill in command, it would be apparent. Her rank was House Legate only because a Consular Legate was, officially, a temporary posting in time of war, one confirmed only with the approval of a majority of the Senators in the Curia.

She directly commanded Corpus Incursio Reliance, a formation of four Infantry Legions, two Armor Legions, two Reserve and Training Legions, and all their support equipment and supplies. She also had access to the Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet which was capable of transporting and supplying six Legions at once.
She also had, by seniority, operational command enough Legions to form two more Corpus Incursio, which could be formed into a full Coetus Malleus. Having de facto command of about twenty active Legions, was one thing.

But more than having a quarter of the Imperial Legion's active forces and considerable fleet support, was where they were stationed: Silvana.

Technically, Castra Argentum, the Headquarters of the Imperial Legions and the Household Fleet, had overall command of all of the forces in the capital and neighboring provinces. But it was one thing to say that the Legati Staff would command those Legions, it was another to have a Daughter, and frequent holder of the rank of Consular Legate in active command in that area.

Not all of those Legions were billeted right in the capital. But a hundred and fifty thousand, organized and trained, Legionaries near the City of Trees would be commanded by someone the Imperatrix trusted explicitly.

Hence House Legate AshRain, BlackSky's youngest Daughter.

We nodded and sat down.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting, I was telling my colleagues about some of the diplomatic and strategic repercussions from the events," AshRain said.

"We're making our displeasure known to House Ziox, as we can point to several capital crimes taken in our territory and our ally's territory," Castra Legate Evanda stated. She was a shorter, brawny woman with curled ram horns and dark green skin and ebony hair cut short. Her hooves were glossy black with silver chasing.

"We'll need to have you and your girls and the Air Groups up their readiness, in case Ziox decides to shake the fence," Volantes Legate Aucto said. She had honey colored hair pulled back with a set of valor pins and was every bit the elegantly sleek look of an ideal Imperial Flier. Beneath her cold expression she had a mix of fierce pride at one of her cadets performance and protective vengeance at them being wounded so grievously.

"The Household Fleet has been put on a similar warning level," AshRain stated. "But we have invited you two to speak on personal matters. As well as Volantes Tribune Duchess SilverFlight."

The duchess bowed her horns to Florentina and I.

"And Palace Librarian Mira HeartWood."

The prim, demure-seeming woman nodded as her tail swished.

That confirmed it. There was no way Miss HeartWood was merely a librarian. Doubtless, she was a personal Librarian of the Imperatrix.

A Librarian and a Daughter. This went all the way to the top.

A Daughter was one thing, but, if so authorized, a Librarian could pry out any secrets we had and would do so with an eager, inquisitive curiosity. And having nothing to hide was only some comfort.

Keeping her expression controlled, Florentina sent me a comforting emotional pulse. She knew I had met the Imperatrix. It was a year after I had been given my honor name and was part of an event in the capital.

Imperatrix BlackSky is.

She was more than willing to delegate power and trust loyal subordinates.

She also could be personable and put a young Centurion at ease.

But...

There was a vast gulf that separated her from even someone like the House Legate.

And there was another chasm between AshRain and I.

I returned sending my own comforting emotions to Florentina.

"Be not afraid," Mira said, her tone and emissions seeming genuinely perky and assuring. "This is not an inquest and we have no questions about your actions with young Optio DiamondDust."

"We're quite impressed with your work with her. All of you," AshRain included the duchess with us mere Centurions in that.

"She can be a challenging girl," the duchess allowed. "But her heart is in the right place."

Florentina managed not to snort, but everyone with horns knew she would have.

For a moment AshRain gave me an amused pulse, but her expression remained mild.

"Honored Legates, nobles, and Palace personages, may I request confirmation as to what happened?" I asked.

The Duchess Tribune sighed. "Three days ago I was in Narvos as the same time as Centurion DeltaVoid and her girls. I had been lending... support to a Librarium operation." She glanced to Miss HeartWood.

The Librarian nodded.

Great. Spook business and the duchess decided to provide some of her mercenaries as semi-deniable backup.

"A facilitator within House Ziox was willing to sell information to us," Mira stated.

I simply bowed my horns to her. The more a Librarian told you the worse things were.

"Said facilitator saw herself as loyal to her House, but would happily give information on other Houses, even those allied to Ziox."

I gritted my teeth.

Thankfully, Florentina was feeling reassuring towards me. I might have to make it up to her after this meeting. It had been a while since we had shared a meal.

"But the collected notes a senior Ziox officer had on the readiness and state of the Trosier Armada are fascinating, given their implications." Librarian HeatWood played the part of an eagerly guileless academic well.

"I believe that is enough," AshRain stated.

I couldn't help but frown. The medium three Houses: Irkella, Ziox, and Trosier banded together to resist pressures of the larger Great Houses. And to better dominate smaller houses, both Greater and Minor.

And while they were closely aligned, and had military observers and trained together, they still did a lot of spying on each other. And jockeyed for position in their alliance. If what Librarian HeartWood was saying was true then this data could be very useful.

While Ziox was not a direct threat to us, and was a frank threat to our allies, House Trosier did have the capability to shut down our seaborne trade while also being a frank threat to our other allies.

Or Librarian HeartWood could be making something up to plant false information in our minds. It was hard to tell, even the uncomfortable reactions of the Legates was not proof one way or the other.

Trying to outthink a Librarian would give you at best a headache and a nose bleed and at worst it would be the last thing you would think of.

The duchess shook her head. "Despite unofficial cooperation with local House RedStorm governance, we decided to have a low profile persistent airborne observation."

"Optio Baroness VioletBlood and Optio Tauria DiamondDust," Mira happily added.

I wondered if she was deliberately leaving off the Cadet modifier.

Florentina sighed. "We had permission to operate in the Narvos airspace. And given the source of the request, I agreed to release the two."

"It went wrong," I stated.

"War Mistress Zaphania Rodswor, commander of the Second Assault Infiltration Wing, led a Squadron in Satori Ritual Plate. And a brainwashed BlackSkyvian noble," Volantes Legate Aucto stated with that same mix of anger and pride.

"Ma'am, the Flight that attacked us in Narvos was not an isolated incident?" Florentina asked.

"Correct, she sent one Flight to you, but the other two she aimed right at our DiamondDust. It's some consolation that one of the Flights was relatively green. We surmise this was being used as a training mission for them."

"Pardon?" I asked. War Mistress Rodswor was not quite an elder but she was a powerful figure in House Ziox's special Ritual Plate forces. More than an Ace, she was an instructor of Aces. Her habit of making daughters out of her fliers was... distasteful, even by Zioxan standards.

But Dictatrix Ziox indulged her obsessions as the War Mistress had a way of finding and "cultivating" talent.

The various Assault Infiltration Wings that made up the Special Air Group were the elite of their Ritual Plate forces, small as they were. On balance, their equipment and training was not to our level.

But... the numbers alone. Two unarmed cadet pilots, and four mercenaries against nine.

"Did she and VioletBlood manage to help while the duchess's mercenaries fought them off?" I asked.

Sorrow came off the duchess in waves. "No. Zaphania slew my troops before they could launch."

"Then..." Florentina stared.

"Tauria sent VioletBlood off with the Package. Ordered me to take Luddy and go at best speed." The duchess beamed with maternal pride. "And then she killed every single one of those Zioxan mind-raping bastards."

"Ma'am?" I asked.

"She's right, Centurion," Volantes Legate Aucto flashed her fangs. "The three of you helped train our youngest Ace in centuries. She fought superior numbers who had superior range using every trick in the book, inventing a bunch of her own, and exploiting everything they knew about our book."

"After this meeting, I want you two to go with my tactical analysis group and double check their reconstruction of the fight."

"But... she couldn't-" Florentina stopped. I felt the denial fade and certainty bloom in her. "No, she could and she would."

I thought of the reserved and vicious girl who always did her best to excel, but also kept her emotions pulled in. "She was unarmed," I stated but added an interrogative burst.

I was not doubting that Tauria did this, I was asking how.

"I did give her my sword," the duchess admitted.

"And she found a way to weaponize the fireworks mortars and the contrail sparkler." Volantes Legate Aucto laughed. "She defeated them in detail, and Zaphania was taken in by her arrogance."

Despite her anxiety and pride, Florentina nodded. "Tauria did theorize about some of the combat applications of our theatrical accessories."

"It turns out they work reasonably well as blinding devices," Mira eagerly noted.

"Fireworks, glitter, and a sword. Nine to One." I looked around the table. "If I may, what is the purpose of this meeting? I was told Tauria would recover."

"She got mass trauma to most of her limbs and the regrowth will take a bit of time, but she's in capable medico hands," the Librarian said with almost surreally-open mirth.

I nodded and let the rest of my question hang.

"Centurions, Tribune, none of us doubt the skill or heroism of young Optio Tauria DiamondDust. I've already put in recommendations for awards and honors," House Legate AshRain stated.

I put out a bit of interest at the unstated question.

Tribune Duchess SilverFlight looked at the table. "I've been trying to get her to open up more, but she's just so guarded."

"If she was badly hurt, she must have fed," Florentina surmised.

"On the War Mistress herself, our reconstruction of her suit's telemetry shows she practically rode the corpse to the ground. Serves her right." Castra Legate Evanda smirked.

Evanda had worked her way up from a basic hoof-slogger, literally in her case. And while the Legionaries loved their Ritual Plate fliers for their firepower support, there was a bit of separation from those who mostly fought on the ground and those who could retreat at supersonic speed.

That Evanda was so impressed by the bloody carnage was a good sign.

That the Legates still wanted to talk to us was a bad one.

"When she went into combat, when she didn't know if she'd get back... Tauria did let down her walls. Not just the clumsy ones she thinks I can't see around, but all of them. She was full of love and bloodlust, but focused." The duchess shook her head. "You had to feel it."

I smiled. I had seen inklings of such potential in her, but while Tauria put her all into her training, it was still training. By its nature there were limits in place.

AshRain put a hand on the table. "There were.... concerns that Optio DiamondDust might have been stunted. This is in no way to lessen the work you or Sister Clementia did in raising her, but there were questions."

"There are also concerns about the trauma she incurred from such a stressful combat, with someone her age, defending her mother... figure," Mira stated.

I glanced at the Librarian.

"We are examining her, and giving her care," Volantes Legate Aucto assured us. "Librarian HeartWood had volunteered to help, and you two talking to her will help her."

I nodded, counseling and empathic therapy were very common, especially in the Legions where so much direct trauma from ground combat happens quite a bit. Though any Household Fleet sailor who had to do damage control as her ship burned down around her and plummeted out of the sky more than earned her missio causaria.

A medical discharge had no shame; it was honorable. And given our ability to heal most all wounds in time, most missio causaria were for non-physical wounds.

"Her... guarded nature could make that hard, she can be very stubborn,"

Mira shrugged. "I cannot condone breaking that part of her," for a moment her tone and demeanor shifted and she spoke in the tone of Judgment. "We can all help her and guide her, but there will be no forcing her. We are not Ziox or their ilk."

The Legates, including a Daughter of the Imperatrix nodded.

I sent reassurances to Florentina.

The duchess looked down, her tail swishing. "I tried my best with her."

Mira was back to bright, and genial. "And you succeeded wonderfully! The Imperatrix herself compliments you. And I will be taking a personal interest in Lady Luminedia Tessaris' recovery as well. From talking with her, her mate, and her family, I am confident that we can bring her peace."

The duchess bowed her horns to the Librarian. "You honor me. When I saw what had been done to Luddy..."

Mira seemed happy. "The honor is BlackSky's. Bonds of obligation must be maintained. Unfortunately, we can only give counseling and monetary remittances to the families of the pilots you lost, your Grace."

"But the Family does honor those who bled and suffered for the House," AshRain added.

I gave a stern agreement. House BlackSky had issues, our Nobility had their problems, corruption, and vainglory. And the imperial family, the Family, was so far above the rest of us... But... there at least there was the attempt of honoring promises and commitments.

Yes, the cynical part of me that came from being a long-serving Centurion knew much of it was due to realpolitik. A track record of honoring pacts, of keeping one's word was a powerful tool when it came to getting others to do what you wanted. It was useful in interpersonal relationships and among institutions.

"I know she will accept such counseling and appreciate it," I stated. "If only because it is a part of our regulations on how to deal with post-event trauma."

"Whether or not she will go with the spirit of such conversations is another matter," Florentina added.

"All we can do is give her the choice," AshRain said.

"And make sure she is cleared back for flight duty." Volantes Legate Aucto tilted her head. "Or cadet training. We are still considering her assignment after this.

"It will be helpful to get to know her," Mira so innocently stated. "She seems very interesting."

My poor cadet.

"If you had not told me she was born a demon, I would not have believed it." I stated. "Tauria in many ways acts like a turned succubus."

The House Legate put her full interest on me. "Go on?"

"She's not uncultured or unskilled in our ways. Other than some minor things. But she was raised properly. If anything she's very mentally mature for her age. Even by cadet standards. But..."

I let out some uncertainty. "There's always a little gap. If she were not a pilot I would wonder if her ability to use her horns and bond with others was... diminished."

Florentina was heartened by that. "I agree; she's obviously one of us. She's pretty, female, violent, aggressive, and capable of our magic and empathy; she's clearly a demon. Once she's fully grown she'll be a powerful succubus and an ideal of BlackSkyvian martial skill."

"An Ace at twelve," I chuckled. Her young age was exceptional, but give her a few years and it would be merely novel.

"But you have reservations?" AshRain gently inquired.

I had to shake my head. Ritual Plate Pilots were screened and watched. That was a lot of personal power given to someone who could cause a lot of damage before being subdued. And Tauria had just shown how much someone could do with an unarmed suit.

"She is odd. She has issues with ballet, not dancing or her skills, but that she is good at them, that and some other feminine things. And then there is her intensity, but unlike many arrogant, young prodigy pilots she is a stickler for procedure.."

"More of that cultural separation?" Mira asked with a little smile to herself. Thank the Imperatrix she did not elaborate further.

"Given her combat capability, this does explain her intensity." I was relieved that Tauria at least had an outlet for these tendencies. I fear what would have happened if a girl like her had not chosen to enlist into the military. That she sought special dispensation to become a cadet earlier was just more proof of that wisdom.

She belonged in Ritual Plate. I idly wondered if her suit could be repaired; if it would be made into a relic. Not a holy one, though she was raised in the Church of DarkStar...

AshRain seemed to let out a bit of tension. that a Daughter had trepidation was... well understandable. "Good, if either of you have any private concerns I will be here for the rest of today and tomorrow helping deal with the situation and observing the full reconstruction of the fight. I promise I will take your statements with full confidentiality."

She looked to the other Legates. "Barring that, it looks like My mother's, the Imperatrix's, confidence in Tauria DiamondDust's maturity and experience is fully warranted. I would like to give my personal congratulations to her."

"I'll make sure she'll be awake for that," Volantes Legate Aucto assured. "I'm sure she'll love hearing about how proud we all are of her."
I smiled. If Tauria had one sin it was that she did like status. Which, among our kind, was a venial one. And the duchess was a good patron to help smooth things out. Still getting such official recognition from the Imperial Family was bounty to help her star's rise.

Tauria DiamondDust had shown vast desire, and breathtaking talent for combat, and the House was willing to do everything it could to cultivate that talent to help her desires.


End Chapter 4

Well..... it took more buildup than expected. But.... I got out some combat, and a non-Tanya pov. There will be more of these scenes.

I felt that Tanya was a good "Watson" to help setup the basics of this world and now there's enough groundwork that we can start having more fun with other perspectives .

Such as how Artemis Magnus Quirinus and Florentina DeltaVoid have no issue stating what kind of demoness their species is.


I want to thank everyone who's commented and helped me with this project and especially to DCG, Ellf, and Green Sea for checking over this concept and reading over it.

And thanks to Kevin Hammel for going over it himself as well!

Additional: The first four chapters of this story have gone through a slight revision process. Mostly doing minor corrections for typo, grammar, and continuity.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.


Chapter 5: Birthday Blowout


The brush felt good in my hair.

"I'm so proud of you." Sister Clementia sat on my bed.

A nice thing about being injured, at least in relative peacetime, was your convalesce could be in a private room.

"For getting chewed up?" I raised my arm showing the fresh pale-pink skin of my regrown hand. Upside, I would not scar. Downside, I had been so very hungry these last couple days.

And that was despite being given a constant supply of heavy meals and intravenous supplements. My new species' ability to heal was impressive, but that meant that wounds would not get me pulled from the front, not for long.

"Dear, I'd say you chewed the enemy far more than they did," Sister Clementia smiled. She felt comforting, but there was something she was keeping from me.

"I uh.... yeah." In my previous life I had done things. They were all legal under the laws of war. Even if the way to justify those actions involved a careful reading of such treaties, declarations of intent at the right times, and judgment calls on who was and who was not a lawful combatant nor a civilian.

And while my direct role in, what the enemies of the Empire called, the Arene Massacre was one thing, I had helped write the legalistic formulation that allowed it to happen.

My actions south of Narvos continued that streak. My commanders saw me feasting on the flesh of War Mistress Rodswor as a necessary action. To them, it was a footnote in the official report.

I was quiet and just let my- just let Sister Clementia brush my hair.

"How is your recovery going?" she asked in her ever patient, gentle voice.

"Well, there's this," I gestured with my hand and then kicked my legs. I was in a set of dark purple exercise clothes. The loose sweatpants and blousy tunic were a bit warmer than being in a hospital gown. "And I'm sure Senior Prefect Centurion Florentina will want me back dancing with the rest of the Troupe before the week is out."

"That should be helpful."

I eyed her. "Yeah... it's going to be part of my physical therapy. My balance at the moment is not great. It'll be a while before I can wear a suit again. Not that I have a Ritual Plate to pilot."

A melancholy fell over me. I had gotten to speak with the team that had examined the combat site. Well, that had recovered the bodies that had fallen onto the borderlands fields and orchards.

That included one Polydora Mark 5. Looking at the pictures of my mangled suit was one thing. Yesterday when the boffins brought me to the hangar where it and the other recovered artifacts were stored was another.

I had spent nearly a year using that intricate collection of enchantments. It may have been surplus, and it might have been an old trainer and glorified acrobatics demonstrator, but it had kept me alive. At least it was being treated with care and as much of its components, spirits, and other critical parts were being recovered as could be.

The combat reconstruction team was respectful and did not patronize me by being coddling, though they did conceal a bit of diffident awe. It helped that my actions meant they had plenty of hardware to examine.

Two Flights of Satori Ritual Plate and one custom variant had also been recovered, in varying states of damage. That and nine bodies, also in varying states of damage. I did not know what happened to them. I could have claimed them, that was my right, but a very polite Tribune suggested it might be more diplomatic to let the Imperial Legion take care of that.

I cared more about the Ritual Plate than the flesh. It sounded like after the boffins got through tearing the Zioxan hardware down to learn anything new they would have enough parts and spares to make maybe a Flight's worth.

Which would likely be passed along to our Dissimilar Instructor Wing, specifically one of their Aggressor Squadrons. That was a group of pilots trained and equipped with the Ritual Plate of a rival House. They sounded like an excellent training opportunity.

And one I got a small taste of, training with some of the House Andromache cadets and their special, and different, doctrine. But now I had an in.

My tail lazily curled as I thought about that. Maybe I could do that. If I was skilled in using an enemy Houses' equipment and tactics I could be very valuable to teaching other pilots. Too valuable to be put to the front.

It would be a near-ideal posting for me.

Sister Clementia smiled. "And mentally?" she asked, switching to my wings. Most of the burnt feathers had been pulled but they were still a ruffled mess.

"I've got someone to talk to," I assured. It was very enlightened that the Legions had a mental health system that understood Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I suppose it was an inevitability when you threw empathic soldiers into combat. Their term was Trauma Accumulation, but it was a similar phenomenon.

It is a bit annoying that the almost doleful comforting consoler with the twin pairs of curling horns and the chipper Librarian were so happy with my progress.

Yes, I was being honest to them with my feelings about the matter. But anyone who knew "Tauria", the little, nearly eleven year old, demon girl should have thought my subdued reaction to fighting off nine enemy pilots in an unarmed suit was stonewalling.

I mean those were my genuine feelings. After Norden, well... after being pushed in front of that train, I had had too many brushes with death. Too many situations where it was kill or be killed.

Oh sure, they wanted me to open up more, and were worried I was repressing too much, but that was less about the fight and more about my childhood.

Please, these demons might be more sympathetic, but in most of my lives I ended up killing people as a little girl.

It was a bit disquieting how accepting they were. Not of the situation, but of who I was. Part of it was simple consequences of our biology on society. With the dominant species in the House being all female and empathic, and with normal raw recruits being sixteen to eighteen years old there were a lot of pretty young women fighting, killing, and dying.

My actions were still outside of the norm, but less so than they were in the empire of my previous life. Here, I was an oddity on the far end of the bell curve, in that other empire I was statistically unique.

Maybe I was fooling them better than I thought. They could be seeing me as the model eager young cadet.

I did miss flying, and my Zephyr did as well. My feathers could have used a good preening.

I leaned back and let Sister Clementia work.

"Have you talked to your friend VioletBlood?"

"Oh yes, she was part of the debrief. I gave her simple orders, but she performed them exactly as required." I nodded as I stretched my left wing so she could get to my secondary feathers. "She had a good head on her shoulders, taking the mission first instead of unnecessary heroics."

Sister Clementia murmured. "Only then? You two didn't talk in a social situation? It was a very traumatic experience."

"I suppose it was the baroness's first taste of combat, but, as I wrote in my report, she performed well. Other than a bit of idle chatter and minor nervousness, at the start. Once things got serious, she did her job and got the Package out."

The Sister switched wings; there was that sense that there was something she was not telling me. It was odd having someone else obfuscating their emotions. "That's not what I meant, Dear. Did you and her... and your cadet and ballet friends go out to eat? Such celebrations are normal for after a victory. Feasts and the like."

I thought about the fate of the War Mistress. "Not exactly."

"Ah, well, we can go out and have a nice dinner."

"They'll let me off base?" I perked up, my tail swishing.

She beamed at me. "Of course, it is a special day."

"It is?"

Sister Clementia looked embarrassed. "It is your birthday," she admitted.

I blinked. That.... that was true. On the train ride up to Narvos, VioletBlood was plotting to have a big birthday party for us when we reached the next city.

So, I was twelve.

At least I was spending it with the woman who raised me.

++++++

True to her word, getting off base was easy. I put on my uniform and took a moment to inspect myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was pretty tamed, my wings were presentable. My tail swished about merrily.

I had few ill feelings towards the first orphanage I was raised in. Those nuns made do with what they had and no one starved, but some months were lean. Sister Clementia's order had better patronage.

It was nice to no longer be stunted. I was still a very delicate-looking and short girl. But being pretty, female, and lethal was not unusual in this society. On the contrary, it often felt like the norm. Which was a bit of a comfort.

The rank flashes were new. The promotion to centurion was the most welcome part of the awards ceremony yesterday. The least welcome were the hints that more was to come.

No, the most welcome part was that it was done in my hospital room. It was useful to have so many Legates get a favorable view of me, especially one who was a member of the imperial Family.

But I was well aware of the risks the reputation I was cultivating could bring me.

That was why I frowned at the other award I had been conferred as I tied the teardrop-shaped ruby just above my collar. It looked a bit like a drop of blood held protectively by a pair of wings or, more accurately, clasped by gold leaves.

"The Preserver Order," Sister Clementia said with pride.

I gave her a reassuring look. "I didn't set out to get this."

"Few do, and those who do normally die," she said, melancholy and a tinge of fear entering her voice.

Despite that, I nodded. Entry into the Preserver Order, or more properly the Order of the Crown of the Preserver, was mostly posthumous. The award was given to those who risked their lives with conspicuous gallantry to save the lives of civilians or non-combatants.

I couldn't argue with that. Unfortunately, both the duchess and VioletBlood testified that my priority was for them and Luddy to get out to safety. And that my intention was to fight an overwhelming enemy with the goal of buying them time.

There were lesser Preserver awards such as Phalerae disks, armbands, or their hairpin equivalents that covered the same action, just with less suicidal levels of gallantry.

I sighed as I slipped on my boots. By the letter of the regulations, and the spirit of long-standing traditions my actions did qualify for the Preserver Crown. And turning down being entered into that Order would be very unwise, especially since I was the youngest member on record.

At least the youngest member under the current incarnation. There were supposedly a handful who were younger than I but they dated to pre-Invasion times and were retroactively entered when the Order was created.

"At least the award is no longer literally a crown," I muttered. Though technically in the most formal of uniforms that would be required. Something to keep in mind if I had to present myself to the Imperatrix. At least that meant I wouldn't have to wear the crested centurion dress helmet.

"I think you'd look good in a golden-leaved crown with rubies, like a little princess."

After a few steps my legs ached a bit. It was not surprising given my healing and the physical therapy. Going down the stairs of the hospital, Sister Clementia took my hand.

Which was nice for the... balance it gave me.

Going outside was an experience. I had gotten noticed before on the base as a young promising Cadet, but now I was getting salutes and accolades.

I suppose the Preserver Order would have its advantages. It felt a bit awkward, but I gave a prideful smile and, with an imperious sweep of my free arm, cheered them on.

Getting outside of the base was easy. I almost had an honor guard after going through the guard post at the gate. Or at least there were a few Legionaries and pilots going the same direction as us.

I got my stride as we went down a few blocks and came to the edge of the upper section of Bovitar. Clementia unfurled her large, purple and grey wings as her matching red habit and dress rippled in the wind.

Still holding her hand, I spread my wings and we flew from the upper ridge to Victory Plaza in the heart of the city.

It was nice flying. Though flying under my own power was a pale imitation of flying with Ritual Plate. Still, my Zephyr were happy to be in the air again.

I hit the landing, but it was nice to have Clementia there in case I stumbled.

"We're eating in their restaurant?" I asked as she led me towards the Great Eastern Hotel. My stomach grumbled a bit. The hotel did have a really good steak grill on the back next to the bar. Red meat was more appealing to me in this life than previous ones.

"Maybe," she allowed.

I tilted my head. Sister Clementia did not have much in the way of worldly possessions, but she could afford a nice meal once in a while. "I will be getting a bonus with my promotion," I offered.

"You are so sweet." She patted me on the head before we went through the sweeping doors into the lobby.

The staff were oddly obsequious. Well, I did have a reputation. I supposed my story had started to spread.

Though as we got deeper into the hotel, my horns started to get a bit... muffled.

Sister Clementia squeezed my hand. "Trust me."

My tail curled a bit as she led me to one of hotel's ballrooms

A pair of servants in gold and purple livery opened the doors. I could feel the duchess's emotions and care for me.

And then I felt others.

The room was full. There was my cadet instructor: Prefect Centurion Quirinus, the head of the Ballet Troupe: Senior Prefect Centurion DeltaVoid, Baroness VioletBlood, IvyBlade and others from my cadet class and the ballet troupe, and Luddy.

I tilted my head as they screamed happy birthday.

"Um?" I turned to Sister Clementia.

"Do you really think we forgot?" she laughed and pulled me into the ballroom. While it was a literal room for ball dancing complete with polished floors, gilt ceiling and handsome woodwork on the walls, I was happy to be wearing a uniform and not a gown.

The duchess, however, was in a gown. She held a fluted glass and raised it as she strode to me. "Hail, Lady Tauria!"

While the others repeated the accolade she came in to hug me.

My tail went stiff as my arms flailed for a moment. I mean... being in the Order of the Crown of the Preserver did confer an honorary title.

"You did the right thing, I'm so proud of you." Duchess SilverFlight held me tight before letting go. "You're looking well."

"Uh, yes, your Grace," I said in a controlled, even adult, tone, while my tail was kept steady and did not wag.

The duchess shook her head and nodded to Sister Clementia. "Well done with the subterfuge."

"You were the one who kept the surprise once we got into the hotel."

I looked between them. The duchess masked the presence of her and my.... fellow Legionary Fliers... well...

Sniffing the air, I turned to see a bashful-looking Luddy walk over. She bowed her horns to me then deeply bowed at the waist. Next to her a couple servants were pushing a trolley that had a bunch of pastries and buns surrounding a two-tiered dark chocolate cake.

There were twelve purple candles on it.

I blinked. This... was not what I expected.

"I must thank you so much for helping free me," Luddy stated as she blinked and dabbed at her eyes. "You... don't... it was... I..." She steeled herself. "But I'm free now."

I returned the bow and found the wave of gratitude and stress from her and wanted to feel for her, to return the sentiment.

Luddy gave a small smile to me and the duchess put an arm around her shoulder. "Miss HeartWood and others have been a great help."

Baroness VioletBlood slipped over to me. Unlike most of the others, she was not in uniform. She had a frilly lavender dress with white ribbons. Her dark red hair was held back with a few pins that denoted she was promoted to full Optio and bore a small Phalerae. The polished copper disk pinned to her dress like a metallic corsage.

I nodded to her. She had done well and did deserve some recognition.

She gave a matching gesture but bowed a bit more. "I told you you'd have a great birthday party."

I snorted lightly. Looking around, I saw there was a line of other foods, a set of tables, and that various servants had started circling about with glasses. Some seemed to have champagne while others were a bit darker.

"It's cider; soft cider; you teetotaler.," VioletBlood teased.

"I'm twelve," I shot back to her.

Holding her own glass, VioletBlood shrugged. "Fine, fine, wait a couple years then."

I shook my head. In my first life the drinking age was twenty, in my second it was about sixteen. In this life, it was somewhat younger still. Though it was more that drinking without parental permission was the actual prohibition. Crazy demons.

The duchess went back to me and after giving a pleasant chat with VioletBlood, politely pushed her off. Standing to one side behind me, the duchess pointed me back towards the cake.

Sister Clementia went to the other side.

"Do you want to make a wish?" the duchess asked.

I looked at the candles. What I wanted.... what I really wanted? I was not sure I could get it.

Knowing my luck, wishing for a nice rear echelon posting would just make things worse. Wishing for status could be nice, but would end up with all sorts of strings attached. Money and power had the same risks. Baubles could be nice, if I cared about material things.

Well, beyond basic comforts. It was all academic anyway. It had been twelve years with no sign of otherworldly beings interfering in my new life.

Other than cruel demonic House rulers via arrogant War Mistresses. I could not be sure, but the whole incident in Narvos felt like the result of plain old demonic infighting.

Sister Clementia squeezed my shoulder.

"Thinking hard?" the duchess asked.

Shrugging, I blew out the candles.

And there was polite clapping.

"Now don't tell us!" IvyBlade shouted as they started to carve up the cake.

The smell was heavenly.

Before I could get to it Sister Clementia and Duchess SilverFlight both handed me a gilt envelope.

I blinked.

"It's your first gift, if you'll accept it." Sister Clementia

I wondered if it was money or some sort of line of credit at a boutique or something. Holding the thick envelope, my confusion grew; it felt like many pages.

Sliding out a pinky claw, I carefully cut the side of the envelope. There were two nearly identical legal documents.

The only difference was in one the first party was Clementia Lusria of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady and in the other the first party was Volantes Tribune (Rorarii) Duchess SilverFlight.

In both the second party was Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust. And awaited my signature and seal.

They were adoption papers. Specifically, they were adoptio, the civil version of adoption instead of the biological version. That made things a bit less terrifyingly overwhelming.

"You... you want me as your daughter?"

"We've felt you've been our daughter for years," the duchess said.

"Neither of us wants to replace your birth mother or your sire mother." Sister Clementia took me in a one armed hug.

The duchess leaned in, her voice quiet. "And we know you're very... independent so making you a daughter, biologically-speaking, might not be right."

I frowned at the unspoken "for now".

"But you are old enough to make this choice, and old enough that you don't need mothers," Sister Clementia hugged me a bit closer.

I was old enough to fight and kill and possibly die for the House, so being able to pick my parents seemed like a reasonable allowance.

"The Magnus? And the Countess? Why does my name have those now?" I blinked and was... oh this was....

From her spot talking with the other members of the ballet troupe, Baroness VioletBlood saluted with her glass. I wondered if she would be so pleasant if she knew I had leapfrogged her in status. Her jealous streak was only matched by her competitive one. Wait... I didn't have to accept this.

Sure.

I could snub the woman who raised me and a powerful patron who I had risked my life to rescue and who was willing to risk her political capital and honor on taking me on as a daughter.

"Magnus is the Honor Name bestowed upon you by the Imperatrix. You'll be given a formal presentation by the Legates tomorrow."

"And?"

The duchess smiled. "If you are to be my daughter you will have a title."

I stared. In my past life I had gotten an honorific, becoming Tanya von Degurechaff, for academic excellence as part of my military education.

"If you insist on being a Lady Castilian, I suppose you can talk with my eldest daughter, your new sister, but it holds a lot of responsibility."

"That's, um, not what I meant."

The duchess tittered. "Oh, you already made yourself a Lady by your own efforts, I have to give you something extra."

I exhaled. That it was both of them meant this was not just a political move. A way for the duchess to solidify her claim on me and her reputation of finding and mentoring talented new pilots.

Oh yes, the nunnery's fortunes will be helped if it came out that the newest, youngest Ace Pilot, a Countess no less, was once one of their wards. But.... Sister Clementia was not like that.

I swallowed. My hand trembled as I held it out.

The duchess bowed her horns and placed a gold pen into my fingers. I was guided by a table. It was good that Clementia was there to help give me balance.

I spread out both sets of documents and read through them. As I went, I wondered if there was a way for me to get out of this. BlackSkyvian Nobility had a... reputation, especially in the Imperial Legions.

If anything, young Baroness VioletBlood was a restrained example of their gung-ho exuberance and dedication to combat. As I read I wondered if I even wanted out of this.

Being given piles of honors, awards, and promotions, especially for earned work were beneficial, but they all came with expectations and responsibilities.

A servant came up with a stick of gold and purple wax which was heated by a small flame generated between her fingers.

I did not have a signet, but I did have.... I undid the ribbon that held the ruby and gold leaves of the Preserver Order to my neck.

I closed my eyes for a moment and then signed both documents and then pressed the front of the Order award into the dollops of wax. The impression of leaves and teardrop looked professional enough.

There was a hush as I tied the award back onto my collar.

And then both Sister Clementia and Duchess SilverFlight pulled me into a hug as she did servants cried "Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust daughter of Clementia Lusria of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady and Volantes Tribune Duchess SilverFlight of the Duchy of Argenia!"

I was lifted off my feet by the embrace by the two taller women, by my... mothers. Adoptive.

I blinked and there might have been a purring rumble as the cheering grew distant, and I just enjoyed their company.

I was lowered back down onto my boots and managed to regain some of my dignity when I was given a glass and saluted the crowd.

My mothers flanking me, I noticed something had been placed in front of me. It was a giant case in purple wrapping paper with a big floppy pink bow on top.

"You didn't think we were just going to adopt you?" the duchess... my duchess smiled.

"I, um, didn't even expect that much," I admitted. A china plate with a slice of cake was put into my hands. I ate some to get a bit of a distraction. Moist, delicious chocolate cake and frosting and shaved chocolate helped.

"Well, it's something you definitely will like, need, and use."

I swallowed. Given the wrapped box was about the dimensions of an upright coffin.

My free hand went off and tore out the wrapping paper and sliced the ribbon. The packaging went away to reveal... a standard grey military crate.

But one I was familiar with. I finished my first slice of cake as Mother Clementia gave me a new slice and my duchess opened the front of the crate.

Inside was a standing Ritual Plate suit locked onto its restraints. Covered in intricate engravings, enchantments, I could feel the dormant power of the suit. It had spots for multi-mission modules but was far above my previous suit in complexity.

"That's a Polyxo Advanced Multi Role." Most of the plates were made of an almost pearlescent white metal with blue accents, and black trim, with golden runes engraved all over.

With the right mission packages, a Polyxo was equal to a dedicated long-range Lance Strike suit like a Telephe, an air superiority fighter like a Harmonia, or a ground attack craft like a Sarpedona.

"It's your Polyxo Advanced Multi Role," my duchess smiled. "Specifically, a Mark 15 with the Gamma Block power systems."

"Oh." That was the most modern production variant. And the Gamma Block used stronger, more robust arcane enchantments to keep mana, power, and flow from the fuel cells from burning-out components, especially in combat conditions.
I stepped around the suit. It was a bit taller than me, due to it being an armored suit, though more to the boots Ritual Plate models seemed invariably cursed with. But the important part was that it was my size. "How?"

"One of my artificer guilds makes RP power systems including the Gamma Block and other concerns make several of the components in the Polyxo. When the manufacturers heard about what you did, well... let us say that I was able to purchase one fresh off the MuArc Amalgamated line instead of being waitlisted."

I blinked. The Household Fleet and the Legions did allow for the personal purchase of kit and equipment. Provided the trooper could afford it, and the equipment met standards such as quality, performance, durability, maintenance, and compatibility in munitions, fuel, and spare parts.

"It's my size." Suits had to be custom fitted. For the most part, they were manufactured in a range of predetermined sizes and the final fitting could be done by Ritualista, but this one seemed to be pre built to my, admittedly delicate, proportions.

"I know your sizes, Daughter," my duchess seemed to revel in that word. "And I may have paid extra to have it fitted out by MuArc's own artificers. They were motivated to help you."

I tilted my head at her. Motivation aside, the Polyxo was by itself, one of the more expensive Ritual Plate, but having it installed with a Gamma Power system and then custom fitting out... all in a matter of days.

"I'm sorry if I was presumptive; I talked with your instructors," she nodded to Prefect Centurions Quirinus and DeltaVoid. "And thought you would make the most of the flexibility of this model. But if you want a Harmonia I could get you one. Or any other Ritual Plate you want."

"No, no, the Polyxo is amazing. I can't wait to put it on..." I may have put my hand out and remarked on how shiny the surface was.

My Zephyr reacted with great enthusiasm flowing through the various enchantments.

The potential in such a piece of hardware was immense, especially with someone of my skills wielding it.

Oh.

That was the worry. My duchess knew what was expected of me. And being a Countess would raise the bar further. I couldn't blame the Legates.

If I were a staff officer and had someone with my capabilities I would want to get the most out of them.

I pulled my hand and smiled. Two big upsides House BlackSky had over the Empire was that House BlackSky had a stronger diplomatic corps and tended to take a longer view of things.

That, hopefully, meant that my commander would decide it was better giving me a few years to season than feeling that they were forced to send me into some meat grinder to try and turn the tide in some big war.

I exhaled. I might have gotten the attention of the higher ups but I could still leverage their accolades into my plan of spending as many years of my twenty year term as possible in training, instructor, and other rear echelon billets.

And then after that, being a respected countess, maybe working in her adoptive mother's research and testing companies, would be a very comfortable life.

"I know your next posting is in flux, but there are few positions in the Legionary Squadrons where a Polyxo would be a detriment," my duchess assured.

I bowed my horns to her. Save for special applications, Flights were typically homogeneous in composition. This simplified command, supply, and maintenance logistics. Most squadrons were homogenous as well, but there were cases, especially with rare models like the Occultia, Svalinna, or Polyxo where a mixed Squadron gave some benefits.

Most Prefect Volantes Centurions would be happy to have one of their squadron's Flights be equipped with Polyxo. That gave them two Flights dedicated to their specialization (air superiority, strike, or ground support) and one multi-role Flight that could perform as well in said specialization or be swapped out into another.

It could enable a Lance Strike Squadron to have some fighter escorts, or give an air superiority squadron some heavier firepower in case of larger enemy targets. Or it could give a ground attack squadron some superior air cover or heavier firepower.

I smiled at the Ritual Plate suit. If I was going to be tossed into the deep end then I might as well have the best equipment possible. And unlike the cursed Type 95, this one did not seem to require brainwashing to use.

Mother Clementia stepped over to me and handed me a small box. "I know it's not as much, but...."

I took the box and looked up at her and shook my head. "No, don't. You've done more for me than..." I exhaled and let a bit of my feelings out.

I was suddenly pulled into her embrace.

My tail swished and I allowed myself to enjoy it.

After the hug she smiled down at me. Relishing the feelings of surprise of my fellow cadets and Troupe members, I opened her gift.

"Oh my," I pulled a silver locket out of the box and looked between it and a set of dark crimson earrings. The gemstones gave a slight shine to the touch.

"Arcane capacitors?" I turned around the two gems. They felt... empty, like they were waiting to be filled. Such devices were a way to store extra mana and energy. It took some time to top them off, but they were a way to give a reserve of extra power.

Normally, they paled in capacity to the alchemical power cells a Ritual Plate used. But they were still a handy way to have that much more power when not in a suit. These however felt like they had very complicated enchantments, very large capacity, and were very old.

"The Mother Superior of the Order may have donated some items from our Reliquary."

"These are relics?"

"About four centuries ago an orphan, Lady Jean BoneMoon, raised by the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady joined the Legions. She won many awards for her heroism and was gifted many items. Many of which were donated to the Sisterhood upon her death.

"It is the policy of our order to loan such items out to those who would make the best use of them. The Sisterhood feels that they do more good for the House being used than simply gathering dust by an altar."

I nodded. It was an honor, and I would have to read more on this Lady BoneMoon, just to check for any Being X or Uriel style meddling. "I am honored to be the current custodian of such relics. And the locket?"

"That's just some mother's love," she smiled and popped it open.

On one side was one of the Saint-style pictures of DarkStar with her crimson hair and pious expression. The other was a picture of me as a very young girl being brushed by Mother Clementia.

I held out the locket and bowed my head to her. Sister Clementia undid the clasp and put the silver chain around my neck before clasping it. Then to my surprise I felt the pinch as she put the earrings in.

I might have winced. I was not one to wear jewelry, and earrings hardly ever, but these were functional. Once she put in the studs, I could feel a steady draining sensation as the capacitors began to fill. It would probably take several days for that to happen, but would be a useful reserve.

I exhaled and looked up at my adoptive mothers. "This is more than I could have ever expected. Thank you so much for the best birthday ever." It was the truth. While my first childhood was not bad, I was rather distant with my first set of parents. And as for my second life.... well not all my birthdays were on the front. But enough were.

"I hope you don't think it's over," VioletBlood said as she came up to me with her own giant box.

"Baroness-" I started.

"Countess," she interrupted with a smirk as her tail swished.

"You didn't have to," I said.

"I know," she was amused, a bit jealous, and... there was something else. "Are you going to commission a crown? For your dress uniform."

I sighed and opened the giant gift. It turned out to be multiple stacked boxes with some hanging clothes and folded fripperies. VioletBlood grew more amused the longer it took me to sift through the items.

"This is a gown."

VioletBlood shook her head. "It's the least I could do. And you will need it."

"I was thinking of wearing my dress uniform to formal events," I admitted.

Tail flicking, VioletBlood looked to my duchess imploringly.

She stepped to me and ran a hand through my hair. "Daughter, there will be some responsibilities and duties you will have, and expectations as a noblewoman, but I will do my best to help you with them."

I gave a glassy smile and nodded. If I could swallow my pride and do ballet I could do this. The networking abilities alone of being a darling new daughter to my duchess could open many doors.

"It would be easier if I could..." my duchess shook her head. "We'll make sure you're healthy and happy."

"I'm fine, really," I insisted.

VioletBlood gave me a look

I gave her a sharp smile and idly tapped the gem at my neck.

She rolled her eyes.

"How about this one?" IvyBlade said as she pushed up between us with her own gift.

Inside was a recipe book. In Japanese. I looked up at her confused.

"Did I pick right?" the older pilot tilted her head. "I know you like Paymonish food and you like that human-style food from Luddy's maid cafe."

"Um.. yeah." I really was not much of a cook myself. And the book was a rather generic Japanese cookery book but the gesture was very heartfelt.

"I don't know if you'll be able to read it, but they're plenty of pictures!" IvyBlade said.

"How did you even get this?"

IvyBlade blushed. "I was talking to someone from the Capital yesterday and she pointed me out to a used book store that deals with imports down on the south side of Bovitar."

I absently nodded. "I'll have to get it translated, but thank you!" I might have forced the cheer. It was a very nice book, and I made no secret of liking Japanese food, especially desserts and teas. But the worry that someone might know about my past lives was... disquieting.

Her tail swishing, IvyBlade nodded.

Next came Prefect Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus, the instructor for my cadet group and Senior Prefect Centurion Florentina DeltaVoid commander of the Ballet Troupe. They were standing a bit close to each other and both passed me over a present.

"Another Magnus. I suppose there are worse Cognomen to have as honor names," Quirinus said.

"Like Veritas?" DeltaVoid offered with a swish of her tai.

"Humanitas seems more her speed," Quirinus replied.

"Maybe Narcissus then, for both of you," DeltaVoid laughed.

"Very funny," I sighed and opened the package. It was another book, this one was a slim volume with thick covers emblazoned with warnings and was more like a hefty portfolio or a succinct dissertation. There were also security warnings on the tied edges.

"Tactical Command and Control: Aerial Attack Study on the Applications of Energy-Maneuverability Theory," I read a sinking feeling in my stomach. Energy-Maneuverability was one of the theories Quirinus taught us.

It involved calculating performance based on taking the properties of a Ritual Plate, or aircraft, such as weight, thrust, drag, speed, and other factors and building a quantitative performance model. This allowed for comparisons and trade offs to be studied.

And was the root of various Aerial Attack Studies that determined the types of maneuvers and positioning that were useful to decide how, with a given set of assets, one could fight an enemy, with their given set of assets.

Much of our training was based on this. Which I found reassuring as it was a nice, organized, and logical set of tools. Part of me was suspicious as to where House BlackSky had got the underlying theory. It sounded very familiar, and might have been one of the many human, Earth, things that the various demon Houses had glommed onto.

The key thing, something that our enemies like Ziox failed to truly understand was that Energy-Maneuverability Theory was just that, a set of tools to reach a conclusion depending on the tactical situation. Much of their training treated it as a way to get a pre-generated set of instructions for how to fight various enemies.

That was not an invalid use of the methodology, but it was only a surface one. The true usage involved being able to collect data on the enemy, calculate the situation, create a framework for action and then execute it. And then the whole tradeoffs on an imperfect plan done quickly and updated rapidly versus a more perfected but delayed plan.

This however....

My duchess leaned in. "Are you going to tutor her? She just made Centurion."

And there it was. Yes, much of my cadet training had involved being a Flight Leader or even being in charge of a squadron, but a book like this was specifically for new Primus Volantes Centurions just starting out with a Flight of her own, but with an eye to Prefect rank and full squadron command.

Despite my worries from past experience, I ran a hand covetously over the book. Most of the concepts to Flight command of Ritual Plate were open, or open enough that a cadet could get them.

But learning privy data from experienced instructors...

"Is this to be my new assignment?" Formally, I was no longer a Cadet Optio, so I would need a new billet.

"Volantes Legate Aucto thinks you could use a bit of preparation before your next assignment."

I put on a smile and thought of a response. Fortunately, VioletBlood gave a bit of a jealous sigh.

"We did not forget your heroism, Optio Baroness VioletBlood," Quirinus gave a toothy smile. "We decided that while Volantes Centurion, ah yes, Countess DiamondDust will assume command of your Cadet squadron for the time being, you will be her second."

"That should help you both gain some experience, while also doing your ballet duties," DeltaVoid added.

"Oh," I exhaled. "We're going to have a lot of squadron level training exercises aren't we?" I asked, putting up some exuberance. It was looking like it would be impossible for me to get a nice boring posting. At least in the medium term.

If I could prove myself, then long-term an instructor role could suit me well. Which meant I had to excel at leading and training the cadet squadron to prove I could teach, and then having combat postings to prove my experience and capabilities were worthy of being passed on.

"We do not want you to get a swollen-head thinking you could take a whole 'spec ops' squadron and Ace of Aces by yourself."

"It was two flights, one of which was green, and of the other the War Mistress's desire to keep me alive was a great advantage. I would not call them a special forces squadron," I stated.

"You're being too humble," Mother Clementia assured me.

My duchess waved that aside. "Still, this will be great training, can she take this home to read or does it have to stay on base?" she asked, pointing to the Centurions' gift to me.

"We should really bring it back after the party," DeltaVoid admitted.

"Now, if you want to train against a real elite." Quirinus gave her smirk. "I know a bunch of Household Fleet Pilots want to test your mettle."

"Not to mention our Andromachin allies would also like to learn from someone who drew blood against Ziox," DeltaVoid added. "They might even want to bring some of their Lantian Squadrons down from their lunar homeland."

Knowing I had to succeed, I saluted smartly. "I'll be sure to do my best and perform beyond your expectations!"

+++


Wings spreading to either side of my chair, I wanted to slouch down and put my head on the table. Though that would ruin the paperwork I was filling out. My tail gave little twitches as I remembered the previous night in half-awake snippets.

True to Quirinus' promise, the last couple weeks had been... busy.

It was exhilarating to study squadron-level tactics in detail and, on the fly, make the calculations on how to maneuver my forces to the best position.

And I was certain that the other cadets were getting very useful training out of it all.

Still a full night's sleep was a rare luxury, even getting off base for morning coffee was a treat. I took comfort that there was little in the way of live-fire exercises. Though doing artillery spotting and fire support runs, all before suddenly being jumped by two Squadrons of Fleet Harmonia was not fun.

The real joy was being able to put my Polyxo through its paces. Though I had to be careful when on a mission to keep my camouflage system enabled and to only maneuver beyond the capabilities of a Polydora when absolutely required.

Even with those limits, my new Ritual Plate was a powerful, balanced instrument of precision arcane engineering. Despite all that, it was surprisingly robust. Early marks of Polyxo did have a reputation as hangar queens, but that was largely mitigated as the design matured. Which I suppose shows if enough funding is thrown at an evolutionary project with specific performance goals then progress can be made.

The training had been intense. Especially after that one training mission against Andromachin fliers when they realized which suit was mine and proceeded to, in a very methodical and self-sacrificing way, specifically target me.

"Rough debriefing, Countess?" VioletBlood asked as she sat down across from me.

I glared at her. At least until she passed over one of the two mugs and saucers she had taken from the cafe's counter. She carried a folded broadsheet under one arm.

I sipped the coffee. "It was... long. Not as bad as that training scenario."

"The one where a whole Andromachin squadron died to kill you?"

I nodded.

"The rest of us got the mission objective," she said with pride.

Which I had to give her. VioletBlood was a fair second in command and adjunct. Not the best I ever had. But it was not like Visha or Weiss were available. Though my tail did swish at the idea of Johan Weiss wearing Ritual Plate.

I sipped more coffee. I could have gotten a stronger stimulant in it, but... the Legion frowned on recreational stimulants above a certain potency. Which was perfectly logical as the military stimulants were saved for when they were most needed.

"And that's the argument after that debriefing. Both sides had differing priorities on their objectives. It's hardly rare but was a good case of showing that in a fight you and the enemy could both win or lose."

"Would killing you really be worth a..." VioletBlood paused. "It was a Fast Attack Craft that we were tasked with sinking that mission, right? It sort of blends together."

I nodded. "It depends. A skilled officer has value. Is that comparable to a small naval vessel? Depends on how much each side has of each in the battle. Though my argument was the cost. A full squadron to get rid of one person? That's a squadron that you can't have doing other things."

While I was.... a bit ahead of the curve; my superiors were familiar with prodigy pilots and had taken it upon themselves to show me that I was still mortal. Which, while I appreciated the gesture from an institutional level, was wearying.

Of course, I could not just tell them that I had no intention to act as if I were some fresh young pilot, certain of her own skill and immortality. They would ask where I had gotten such perspective and experience.

VioletBlood nodded.

"And you did command pretty well in my absence," I allowed. Praising subordinates when they did well was key to leadership.

She gave a smile and swished her tail.

Unfolding the broadsheet, she started reading the dense columns of newsprint.

I went back to my own paperwork. As part of my training I was now doing the evaluations of the cadet pilots under my command. It was pure coincidence that training me allowed Quirinus to offload more of her most tedious tasks onto me.

After going to a new page, VioletBlood started to giggle.

I glared at her.

She slowly lowered the paper. "Oh sorry, but the photo of you in this article is adorable."

"What?"

"How don't you know?" she passed the large paper over. "There's an interview with you in it."

Scanning the newsprint, I groaned. "The interview I did was for the Legionary Letters." That was the in-house newspaper for the Imperial Legions.

"Yes, that is the byline; it seems that it was picked up for syndication."

I kept my tail straight. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Really? Because Ivy, Shara, and Jade said they saw a newsreel about you before the main feature at a cinema they want to. What those girls see in those things...." VioletBlood shook her head.

"Movies aren't that bad." I shrugged, reading the article. It seemed to be a straight copy of the initial piece. That much was good. Though the glorifying tone was one thing for the consumption of the troops, it was another for the public.

"Yes, you would say that."

I looked up to glare at her.

"I mean, you are very technically minded, and you get enough of the stage by being in ballet," VioletBlood nervously explained.

I let that pass. Live theater was very popular and still maintained a lead over cinema. A large part was that cinema had no direct, emotional emissions. While some films could record emotional states, it was more complicated when doing it with several people over a long period of time and then broadcast it into an auditorium.

Having a vacation picture of a brood happy at the beach was one thing, and a bit pricey. Having a full sense recording of an opera? That was still a ways away. It was a bit like the early silent film days in my previous lives.

Cinema was seen as something of an inferior novelty, but it was a cheap way to propagate entertainment. And was seen in an unfavorable light relative to established entertainments such as sport, books, gaming, or theatre. Spectator sport, for example, was still big but for many here the idea of watching a recording was a bit alien. Though it was useful for archival and evaluatory purposes.

Personally, I was confident the entertainment guilds would figure it out. There was a strong fiscal incentive to get proper recording and distribution technology. Not only could you perform a play once before a camera and repeat it as many times as your prints held out, you could also edit the footage to have the best takes, and add in post production effects of all kinds.

And much like how the silent movies were overtaken by talkies and then color production, I was confident that eventually "empathys" would become practical and popular. It was something I could encourage my duchess to invest in.

"Diamond? Countess?" VioletBlood waved a hand.

"Oh, sorry." I sipped my coffee. "Yes, I also sat down for some of the newsreels. I think they even took some flying footage of me. Thankfully, I had to go to a mission planning session before things got out of hand.

"It couldn't be that bad."

I gave her a level look. "After they took a moment to consider the ballet troupe, they wanted to commission a piece where I reenacted the fight."

"As ballet?"

This time my glare was not directed at her, but she was in the way.

VioletBlood gave an apologetic smile. "You would look adorable, and it wouldn't be the first time something that violent was immortalized that way. It would really be a great way to solidify you in high society from multiple angles."

I now outranked VioletBlood, both in the Legions and in society. I wondered if she was now the social climber? "I suppose you are more aware of the intricacies of such things."

Violet Blood's tail swished. "You don't need to play the bumpkin. I know your mother has been giving you lessons."

"Mostly flight lessons," I assured.

She laughed. "Right, and you've got a few years before you have to make such decisions."

"That is the hope," I agreed, wondering why she was now talking about combat postings.

The slits to her eyes widened. "Really? You are making plans."

"Of course, Mother did spend a lot helping get me to this position and I have to think about her reputation and legacy."

"That's good to hear, Diamond. I honestly expected you to be oblivious to the whole marriage issue."

I blinked.

"It's very prudent that you're planning already. With your mother, your combat record, and honors, you show great potential. That is one level of potential for suitors. Now add in more years to gain experience and you can pursue a very useful alliance from a very strong position."

I slowly, very carefully folded the paper. "I'm too young."

"Exactly. I mean, obviously, any arranged betrothal would have to wait, but you're right that your best bet is to wait longer until you have as powerful a hand as possible." She sipped her tea. "But there is a limit, I mean you get into your thirties before getting married and some may wonder. But a way around that is to declare you are waiting until your first term expires to have children. Have them with your mate, and then wait until they're... mostly of age before going back in."

I wanted to pinch my nose, instead I shook my head. I had not thought.... much about what I would do after my first term. Other than enjoying the comforts being a noble of some renown would give me. "I will be thirty-one when I get out."

"Perfect!" she said, swishing her tail.

I carefully sipped my drink. "Optio Baroness, I note a degree of exuberance on your part."

"I am concerned for your future and development. Us orphaned noble prodigies do need to stick together."

"I also note you're a year and a half older than me." I took a meaningful sip.
VioletBlood shrugged. "In five years our age difference won't mean much, and in ten no one will notice. Besides, if we get an arranged marriage, it won't be until we're older anyway. As you pointed out, we'd be thirty-one and thirty-three when our first terms end."

The cup almost slipped from my fingers. "What?"

"I'm not saying anything yet; it is presumptuous." She assured me by waving a hand. "But we do have some complementary traits and our families could support each other."

I shook my head. You kill the enemy when unarmed and outnumbered nine to one, get honors and adopted into a noble family and the suitors start popping up. "The timing is coincidental."

"No it isn't," she laughed. "The propaganda is nice and does prove your skills but-"

Hand up, I cut her off. "Baroness, I appreciate your concern for me, and you warning me about these social obligations that lay in my future. However, in the near term I want to focus on my training. I expect an active posting sooner rather than later."

In the full abstract, if I took my own personal views out of the equation, then yes someone like the Countess DiamondDust, youngest daughter of Duchess SilverFlight, could make a good pairing with Baroness VioletBlood, especially after a decade for both of us to season and gain more skill and honors. And to grow up.

That last part was important.

VioletBlood's eyes narrowed fractionally as her tail stilled.

But her implicit point was correct that I might gain yet more status and thus have the baroness further beneath me. Which could change the calculus. I could see why she was insecure and, blatantly, positioning herself so early.

"Understandable, I can see the Legates placing you in an environment to get more combat experience especially as part of a squadron."

I tapped my chin. She was a capable subordinate, perhaps I could direct that. "Violet, while I cannot make any promise with respect to such long term things. I would like to offer what help I can to encourage my mother Duchess and our family to give you and your family mutual assistance."

VioletBlood tilted her head. "Oh?"

"Nothing like arranged marriages. We agree it is too early for that, but such things as postings and assignments. I might find a billet that would suit you."

"Oh, Diamond, that would be wonderful! I'll make sure I'll be the best wingwoman you've ever had."

I picked my coffee back up and smiled. "I can't make any promises with where we get assigned, but I do agree that you have been very capable in that role."

She gave a thin smile and sipped her own tea.

I would have worried about any subtext on her part, but we had both agreed that such arranged marriage and other things were far too early. I did wonder if joining Mother Clementia's order would be a good option. The Sisters did have to take a vow of chastity.

And my duchess could hardly be angry at me following in my other mother's footsteps.

The vow of poverty would be irksome, but I could direct monies from my noble family to support the nunnery. Of course, being a nun was not exactly what I wanted out of life, let alone having to deal with other orphans, but there were worse jobs to have.

VioletBlood smirked. "Thinking about the propaganda again?"

"More about my mother's, other mother's, nunnery. And, um, how the others at the orphanage will react to it."

VioletBlood shook her head. "My you really are the pious ideal of military virtues."

"I'm not that pious."

"You're wearing holy relics, you have a locket of DarkStar on you right now, you joined the Legions after the Feast of DarkStar, and one of your mothers is a nun."

I frowned. That put my potential future thoughts of joining the nunnery in a new light. Good thing VioletBlood did not know about that. "I never looked at it that way," I allowed.

VioletBlood chuckled. "Those with true faith rarely do. Still, it will help recruitment. You're nearly perfect for recruitment posters."

"Except for the whole thing I did at the end of the battle and being so young,"

"I would be inclined to disagree; the War Mistress' body was forfeit when you defeated her and your age can be an advantage."

"In recruiting? I needed special permission to get in."

"It shows that such special permissions are worth giving out," VioletBlood countered. "But I see your point, I was thinking of a different propaganda value your age brings."

"Such as?"

"To other Houses, both our allies and our rivals."

"Ah, yes, the performance of someone with my age would be a good demonstration of our capabilities."

"Just good? An unarmed Ritual Plate Cadet, just before her twelfth birthday, took out a spec op squadron of Ziox fliers and one of their War Mistress trainers."

"That's not an accurate description of what happened."

"Propaganda," VioletBlood slowly enunciated. "You know it's close enough, Diamond, and you can figure out the implications. You've got a better sense of realpolitik than I do."

"Fine." I drank some coffee. "Yes, I can see the two ways it can be read. Most of our allies are smaller Great Houses. Thus, the narrative of one of our cadets killing the Ziox elite when she was outnumbered is reassuring. More or less saying: isn't it a good thing that you have an ally like us to give you hardware and training, so your own forces can fight like ours."

VioletBlood smirked. "Exactly, it reassures our allies that the BlackSkyvian Ritual Plate, training, and doctrine are still very effective. Which encourages them to continue to purchase from our arms contractors and that the defensive umbrella we offer is still strong."

"And it also serves as a warning to our enemies." I gave a vicious smile. "You think your second hand suits, and your third-hand training is enough? You think your elites can match our rank and file? You are dabblers. You cannot have just a few RP Air groups and expect to have a force that can stand up to us. You will need overwhelming, overwhelming numbers to defeat us and we outnumber you."

VioletBlood raised her cup in a mock salute. "You've got a talent for rhetoric and demagogue."

"I have experience. You need a certain attitude to train soldiers."

After a moment's realization, I winced at the slip up.

VioletBlood gave a demure laugh. "Yes, you have scared your former fellow cadets, much to the improvement in their performance," she admitted.

"That is the point of training. The Imperatrix has spent a lot on us, and every Cadet I, we, and the Centurion instructors, that we make sure survives that much longer on the front brings hope to recouping those costs."

"Especially as most of them will end up piloting Sarpedona." VioletBlood absently chewed on her spoon.

I ignored that nervous, and somewhat immature, action on her part. "Cadets tend to be fast tracked to Flight command of Sarpedona or put into a multi-role squadron, so yes."

"But what I mean is they'll be doing ground support, so the longer they survive the more Legionary hoof-sloggers on the ground they can help."

"Yes, that is our doctrine for air support." I gave a wry grin. "We'll make a proper Legionary out of you yet."

VioletBlood huffed and put down her spoon. "Are you hungry? I could go for some cake."

"That would be acceptable."

The baroness laughed. "Yes we all know you like cake, I'll get two slices of chocolate." She got up and went to the counter in the back of the cafe.

It was nice to have a capable second and aide again.

+++
Amber Island was beautiful. The largest island in the Atropia Sea; it was warmed by air currents and got a good amount of rain. At about the same latitude as far away Silvana, it was part of Islands Province, the westernmost province of House BlackSky.

My parents had moved here when our home, an island to the north between minor House Megera and the constellation of outlying islands held by House Elena was annexed.

My mothers did not want to live under those stiff, mask-wearing, conformists and were part of a refugee flotilla that escaped.

House Elena, ever pragmatic, only wanted my parent's island for the natural harbor it offered and how it gave them a better basing posture to support the southeast flank of their holdings in the Northern Atropia sea.

My birth mother wanted to go onto House Alecto and start a business there. She was worried about House BlackSky's reputation. Understandable as while we were officially part of House Megera, we were more of a buffer island between the two titanic Great Houses of BlackSky and Elena.

That all changed when it was found that I had arcane potential and could call upon air spirits.

Both House Alecto and House BlackSky used Ritual Plate and there were sign-on bonuses offered by both. Ultimately, I felt that my mothers and my sisters had a solid life in Amber Island and, to be blunt, House BlackSky offered a larger bonus and a more tangible offer.

Still my birth mother had a condition. She would allow this, but only if I entered the Legions. I tried to tell her that the Legionary Fliers could die just as often over the ocean if their ship was shot down, but she thought being a Fleet Pilot would be too risky with the odds of me dying alone over endless water.

I did not have the heart to tell her that, based on past experience, there were just as many ways to die alone flying over the ground.

Still, I got to fly and got my family a measure of extra protection and financial security.

While beautiful, Amber Island was strategically positioned to give House BlackSky, especially with House Alecto's help, the ability to straddle a line that divided the Atropia Sea into northern and southern halves. It also served as a "bridge" between House Alecto's Home Island and the continent of Diyu.

I had progressed though my initial training, some of which was on the mainland, but most was right in the massive fleet facilities of Opalescence Bay.

Despite my mother's concerns, I was still trained just as often by Fleet officers as I was by Legionary ones and would go on patrols over water.

I was assigned to the 25th Legion as one of the Headquarters' Multi-role Squadrons.

I had just gotten out of my Polydora after the morning's training exercise and was rubbing my arms as I went to the mess hall and got some cabbage stew, ground salt pork, a small loaf of wheat bread, and some fish soup.

"Centurion Shadow," my Flight commander sat down across from me. With long black hair and copper-colored skin and matching wings and little horns, she just had the soup and a loaf. Her uncloven hooves were chased in copper. Dark grey eyes looked up and down at me and my food.

"Primus Centurion AmberSmite," I quickly bowed my head to her.

"Well, you are still a growing girl," AmberSmite admitted with an almost maternal pride.

I looked down at my chest. It was a bit of a curse. But, this time, living as a demoness; it was hardly unusual, and in a way it was nice to be almost... plain, at least by succubus standards.

Being a brunette was almost exotic given the vast possibilities of hair color but it still managed to blend into the background. Sure, I was still lovely, if a bit leaner in the cheek and longer in limb, and there were other changes.

But I did not stick out among my Squadron, at least not physically. I was young and new but not unduly so. There were plenty of cadets and others with exemptions younger than I was.

"You did good today," AmberSmite assured.. "I know you don't have as much experience subbing in for a strike role, but you gave the rest of us good target telemetry. I'd say you're a natural with the Gorgon Rig. You even managed to work through part of your helmet display failing mid-mission."

"Thank you, Primus, I'm trying my best."

Okay, skill-wise I did stand out, but I had an advantage with regard to combat flying. I was far more experienced than my age would imply.

I started eating. It was nice to have plenty of food. I was not sure what kind of picky eaters complained about the quality of the Legionary mess. I was also a bit curious as to what sort of magical kitchen staff the Fleet had.

Rumor was their galleys were simply divine.

To date, I had spent limited time on board troopships so I had not gotten the chance to truly savor the supposed Fleet kitchens.

"Hi Vicky!" the other two pilots in our flight said as they came up to us. Ashley Suthos was a short woman about my age with white hair shaved down to a peach-fuzz, save for her bangs. It contrasted greatly with her spiraling horns. Her plate was nearly as full as mine. She buzzed with a chipper positive energy and was happiest when using her suit to strafe ground targets.

"Did you get that helmet issue fixed?" Antonia asked as she sat down. She was closer to AmberSmite in age. She had a reasonably full plate though it was a bit higher in greens than meat. She was odd like that. She was also relatively emotionally remote which was somewhat familiar to me.

In one corner of her tray was a folded up broadsheet.

"Urentia, my head Ritualista, is looking into it," I said, spooning some of the cabbage. There was cumin, caraway, garum, and a hint of honey. Rather good and filling for something that was made in a big vat. There were sensations of amusement from my Flight-mates as they felt my satisfaction with the meal.

"Anything good?" AmberSmite asked.

Antonia paged through the issue of Legionary Letters "Ziox being spoiled crybabies. Trosier showing off their shiny Armada. Elena acting as if they're the grand peacemakers. Luxon shedding crocodile tears about how they deplore the destabilization of minor House Vualia and wish to help."

"Just look at how much they helped themselves to the northern third of House Vualia," Suthos sarcastically said, her tail swishing.

"Their occupation isn't going well, not with Alecto providing help to whoever can pay," Antonia flipped to a new page. "Well this is cheerful, there's more about that adorable little Ace out in Eastern Province."

"Who?' I asked, giving genuine curiosity.

"Victorious, you didn't hear?" Antonia asked. "There was a newsreel about her."

"I don't really like cinema," I admitted.

Suthos gave me a chipper reassurance. She was especially empathic and found cinema to be a chore.

"Well, then this is a treat," she handed me the paper and I had to juggle it until I cleared some space in front of me.

"A cadet, in ballet equipment of all things, only armed with her mother's sword, found herself up against two flights of Ziox Satori Ritual plate led by War Mistress Rodswor," Antonia explained while I tried to read.

The first thing I saw were the names in the headline. It could be a coincidence but... no....

"You won't believe what she did," Suthos gushed.

Then I saw the picture in the article.

I saw her.

"She killed them all," I stated surprised by the nostalgic smile creasing my face.

"Reading ahead?" Antonia asked.

"Uh yeah..." Then I did read the whole thing. I was surprised and amused by the young Countess' actions, but not for the reason my Flight-mates thought.

"Shame she's on the other side of the House, it would be neat to meet her," AmberSmite said.

"I even heard she has submitted letters to the Journal on Air Combat," Anotia gushed.

I nodded enthusiastically and pondered how much it would cost to go over to Bovitar when I next got leave. It would be a challenge as Eastern Province was about three thousand miles, roughly due east, from here.

I wondered if there was some way I could finagle a transfer

The Major, well Colonel at the end, was always better at those things than I was. But this couldn't be a coincidence. If she had somehow been reborn to this world then I had to meet her.

We were both pilots for a reason. And I knew my place was at her side.


End chapter 5

Yeah this is more of a chapter of people telling Tanya how much she means to them and heaping her with praise and honors. I'm sure there will be no negative consequences from these high profile awards and raised expectations.

And as for the last scene. Well.... Uriel did hint about this way back in the prologue.

And thanks to Ellf for coming up with the name Victorious Shadow. And thanks to Kevin Hammel for going over the chapter as well!

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 6: See the World

Some Minor Houses are powers in their own right. They have coherent economies and militaries with institutions and organization that allows them to secure their territory and borders. While they might be too small to fight off a determined invasion from even House Andromache they could stand on their own from peer threats.

Other Minor Houses were basically whatever warlord or brood queen had the biggest claim over an area and was little more than a name on a map to cover up a zone full of squabbling tribes, raiders, and brigands.

House Vualia used to be the former and was trending to the latter. To the southeast of the Diyu continent, they were across the strait of Ambria from House Luxon which was an ominous neighbor to have separated by roughly seven hundred miles of sea.

Still they traded with Luxon, though they preferred to deal with House Alecto who owned Meropis Island due south of Cape Manu, which had been Luxon's southernmost point.

Before Luxon invaded House Vualia.

First, Luxon took the island of Drumian in the middle of the strait, used it as a staging area, and then made landfall on the northern tip of House Vualia.

From the forward observation station on the HFV Garuda I could just about see the border that separated House Vualia from the Luxon occupation zone.

The observation deck was just above the embarkation deck, itself the lowest deck. It was at the bow of the airship positioned between the twin side-by-side lifting structures. A Phoenician class Long Range Insertion vessel, the Garuda was about 840 feet long and looked roughly like two a hundred and forty foot diameter zeppelins stuck next to each other.

Functionally, that was what it was. The Phoenician class was built using a Virtus Medium Hull. And the Virtus shared many of the same lift bags, structural frames, maneuvering fins, propulsion pods and other structures as the Lua Light Hull.


The Lua Light was a mono-hull so it looked more like the traditional image of a rigid airship. Like the zeppelins of my previous life. Where classes built around the Virtus looked like two Luas. Again, structurally, there was some validity to that.

It also served that way in net lift capacity. Though the Virtus had more interior space given the way it was constructed.

That was handy as this airship was crammed with two Centuries of Legionaries plus their heavy equipment, such as it was, four Umbra Medium transports, two Ritual Plate Squadrons, Ritualista, maintainers, and assorted ships crew.

I say crammed, but in fairness, unless you were on something tiny like a Venture Scout or a Kolibri patrol, most airships had a fair bit of crew volume. It was mass that was the limiting factor.

I sipped my coffee. This observation post was above the Ritual Plate launchers mounted in the bow of the airship. Officially, it was to act as a way to check on arrival and approach positions. It was also useful for when the airship landed or went to anchorage, or docked with another vessel.

There was another post in the stern of the airship, one mounted below the embarkation deck in the keel, and another on the upper dorsal surface.

"There you are, Diamond," Centurion Baroness VioletBlood said as she entered the compartment.


"Just enjoying the view." I quietly nodded to the fleet officer who had a watch post.

VioletBlood stepped up to the guardrail in front of the transparent panes. There were shutters that would slide down behind them, but they were more to keep shards from blowing into the compartment. Armor was deadweight, until you needed it. Thus House BlackSky invested in far lighter defensive systems for their air fleet.

I had to admit the professionalism of the Household Fleet was reassuring. Especially since I had to trust them to get us out to this potential combat zone and then keep us alive while we waited to see if things went sideways.


Said professionalism started with having to maintain a giant fleet and every advantage of scale was taken. There was a degree of modularity, standardization and upgradeability that reminded me of Ritual Plate design methodology and logistics, but on a far, far grander size.

This streamlining of manufacturability by reusing the same hull designs, for having classes that did many roles using the same hulls, and reusing components and even major frame assemblies was used throughout the Household Fleet.

The powerful, but relatively fast, Fides Fleet Hulls and the ponderous, but titanic, Sancus Heavy Hulls also used many of the same components. This time with cyclopean nearly two hundred foot diameter assemblies. The Fides was a two hull design basically like an enlarged Virtus with thrice the lifting capacity.

Where the Sancus was a tri-hull design that was two times larger than even a Fides. The Sancus was so large that half a dozen of them could deliver an entire Infantry Legion: two Typhoon Troopships each with four Cohorts and a troop of armor, two Stellian LRI to carry landing craft, the remaining cohorts, and the rest of the armor, and two Bacchus Fleet cargo for additional supplies. Each Bacchus could carry over nine hundred tons of supplies and over a dozen medium VTOLs to deliver them.

A Nova Fleet Carrier was also required to transport the bulk of said Legion's Ritual Plate compliment. That Legion Lading Flotilla would need a lot of escort craft. At a minimum an, oh so creatively named, Landing Defense Flotilla

But it was an impressive show of force.

"I could not comprehend the exotic locales I would be sent to if I took your offer or patronage, countess," VioletBlood dryly remarked as she looked over at the war-torn landscape below us. At this height, it was rather pretty, nowhere near as bad as the Rhine Front.

Not so impressive was this little Task Force/ We were a mix of a Double Century LRI Singularium and a Damocles-Destroyer Singularium. That came to a total of four Venture Scouts, three Opis Cargo airships, a Damocles Light Carrier, a Mace Destroyer, and the ship I was standing on the HFV Garuda .

Which was also the largest vessel in the formation.

In abstract, it was not a bad little force. Each Venture could act as a persistent scout. The tiny airships had a total complement of fifty-five but could act as a mother ship for six Ritual Plate pilots. The Opis each had an RP squadron but that was mostly for their own defense though could be used in a pinch. More importantly was that each had over fifty tons of supplies stored on them. Functionally, they could double the endurance of this Task force. Or act in a relay to keep us on station for yet another dull month of negotiations.

"If you want better accommodation as your flight commander I will happily forward your request for transfer, and I will personally add my own commentary." My tone was mild, but I let my tail flick and curl.

"No thank you, Prefect Centurion DiamondDust. The fleet food is agreeing with me," VioletBlood hastily said.

I smirked.

Fleet Logistics was ruthless. Airship fuel was less of an issue as their power systems were very high-energy dense and only needed refueling on the long time scales. Unfortunately, fuel cells for Ritual Plate, VTOLs, and such, food, water, munitions, parts, and everything else all added up.

There were mitigations such as water recycling and local harvesting, or that most of the fuel cells could be recharged by the airship's power systems but weight was still everything. In theory, we did not even need the trio of cargo ships as each airship's onboard supplies would be sufficient.

For a whole month.

That said, the galleys on the Household Fleet ships were quite good. They certainly beat field kitchens. Though I did think they put a bit too much salt in their coffee, but it helped cover up the burnt taste. At least it had plenty of caffeine.

"Do you think the negotiations will get anywhere?" VioletBlood asked.

Luxon's invasion was decades past and had slowly grown since.

While some great Houses decried House Luxon's actions such as BlackSky and RedStorm. Most thought it was hypocritical for us "bellicose" BlackSkyvians, and our RedStorm lackeys, who spend so much building a force capable of invading anywhere at any time, to complain.

House Andromache, the smallest Great House, and one especially concerned about an invasion from a larger House was in a delicate position, as keeping good relations with Luxon was a key part of their survival strategy.

Even House Elena, the largest Diyu Great House, only gave platitudes. While Elena kept a placid stance on the diplomatic stage and played the peacemaker, especially to contrast with the purportedly aggressive posture of House BlackSky, they had their own expansion of gobbling up islands in the northern part of the Antropia Sea.

And even they, the largest House, wanted to stay on House Luxon's good side. House Luxon was the third largest and a strong ally of Elena. Thus Luxon provided Elena with a block that had more population, economic, and military power than House BlackSky and our allies.

While also helping them in BlackSky's land borders to the north and east.

"Do you think Luxon will give up the years and treasure and lives they spent securing their invasion territory?"

VioletBlood shook her head. "And I don't think Vualia would be happy with keeping the occupation in place."

"And no one cares, not really. Of the three biggest Houses: our objections are ignored, Elena gives empty air to avoid offending their ally, and Luxon are the invaders. The smaller Great Houses are ignored."

"And the three Medium Great Houses, Ziox, Irkella, and Trosier, see nothing wrong with Luxon's actions." VioletBlood sighed.

That was not fully correct. Ziox did protest the actions of their rival to the south, but saw military adventurism on Luxon as a net good, as they had their own designs on the rich farmlands and mines of Luxon's north east frontier.

"Why are we even here?" VioletBlood asked.

I eyed her.

"I don't mean us specifically, I mean our Task Forces. If these negotiations are futile then how does this show of force serve our needs."

"Which Great House have we not talked about?"

VioletBlood sighed. "Alecto."

I sipped my coffee. "They asked some of our diplomats to help with the ceasefire negotiations."

"Yeah, yeah, we're here to provide security," VioletBlood tapped her boot on the deck. "Alecto's not really a belligerent in this."

"Officially?"

I gave her a patient look. "You're of noble blood, shouldn't you know this."

Acting as if what I said did not make sense, she frowned at me. "Minor Houses are wary of Great Houses. Often, they get the sense that the Great Houses care more for their own interests than some minor power. Even the ones that help them."

"Especially," I corrected.

"House Alecto has been a strong trading partner with, well, everyone. Everyone but House Trosier. If you need your trade routes secured, or you need hardware or training, or just supplies, Alecto will sell to you."


"Provided you stay on good terms with Alecto." I could appreciate House Alecto's rational mercantilism. Unlike most Houses, they were less concerned about holding land for the sake of holding land, and more about what networks and connections they could make.

Despite being less populous than House Trosier and spread out among many islands and enclaves all over multiple seas, Alecto was an economically powerful Great House. Which translated into being somewhere between the three biggest Great Houses and the medium three Great Houses in terms of economic and military power.

Though their fellow naval power, and historical enemy, House Trosier could, and did, contend that assertion.

"It's not just that Alecto helped supply and train much of House Vualia's military. They're also trading partners with Luxon."

"Hose Alecto trades with everyone," I echoed her earlier comment.

VioletBlood looked out into the sky. I wondered if she was looking for the rest of our task force.

Field formations of airships were rather dispersed. The actual distances where mutual support was optimized and the craft would not interfere with each other was far further apart than fleet parades or the cinema would imply.

"This is a mess. The House who's been supplying both sides of this war has brought us in as negotiators."

I shrugged. "Who else? Elena's too closely allied with Luxon, and the other Great Houses are too small."

House Luxon did try to protest the Alecto's actions, but not as strongly. While they did not buy many weapons from the mercantile House, they did buy a fair amount of processed goods and components that were useful in the production of their arms.

More than that, after receiving intelligence on how much House Vualia was spending to get House Alecto's help, High Lady Luxon decided to continue the trade.

Unlike Vualia, House Luxon had their own defense contractors and mature arcane industries and thus only bought specialized equipment and hulls from Alecto.

Thus as the occupation ground on and expanded southward, House Vualia was slowly going bankrupt with all their arms purchases. Not to mention the lives lost.

"Will there even be a ceasefire?"

I sipped my coffee, tail rigid.. "Plenty of times both sides will agree to a pause so they catch their breath and build up more equipment and train more troops," I managed to not snarl.

I hated how much of a waste war was. Especially pointless wars.

In many ways, House Vualia was bleeding themselves white to slow and stop the Luxon invasion. Meanwhile, Luxon had found themselves in a position where the productive output of their occupied lands would take decades of investment and securing before they could even start to equalize the costs their invasion had incurred.

I could have told them that. War was a net waste. Productive lives are snuffed out, economic capacity is destroyed, and what is not destroyed is bent towards making things that will be destroyed or at best will be tied up to a pier or stored in a hangar looking pretty.

The only House who came close to coming out ahead of this mess was House Alecto, and even that gave them a reputation hit as ghoulish war profiteers. And honestly, they preferred to sell civil goods and military hardware that just looked pretty in a hangar and racked up easy maintenance fees.

"Does Alecto even want it to stop? Or is this them saving face?" VioletBlood asked. "If they stopped supplying Vualia, the Minor House would collapse. If they stopped supplying to Luxon then the other Great Houses would get upset."

"It's a mess," I agreed. The briefings before we were deployed out here painted a grim picture. One that just showed what happened when the Great Houses had proxy fights. Still, it was better than an open war on Diyu. "Though you're not being cynical enough, Baroness."

She curled her tail inquisitively.

"If this little war stopped, or DarkStar forbid, Luxon pulled out of the occupation zone. Well, that sure is a lot of Janissaries, Heavy Golems, Ritual Plate Air Corps and other troops they can move out of this southeastern front."

Her eyes widened. "Right. We are on the opposite side of House Luxon from the border they share with us."

"Every Luxon hoof-slogger down here is one that can't threaten our interests in central Diyu."

VioletBlood gave me a reproachful look.

I chuckled; she was still young and would need to learn more about reality. "I'm not saying we're here to sabotage this ceasefire talk. Given the factions, it's unlikely to go anywhere and even if there is a hold in the hostilities, it'll be temporary."

"Right, Luxon wants to make use of their occupation zone and Vualia wants their land back."

"But us trying to be peacemakers helps show that House BlackSky is not unreasonable. Or to be more cynical, it reinforces our support of House Alecto. I do worry that our task force isn't strong enough.

The formation we were in had three main assets: there was the ship we were on which could deliver its two Centuries of Legionaries with a Squadron of Legionary Ritual Plate Fliers for decided air support. There was another RP squadron onboard of Fleet Pilots who were normally assigned for Combat Air Patrol roles to protect our ship.

But they could also help the Legionaries, much as how our squadron could help with the mind-numbing, but vital, air defense patrols.

The next asset was our Damocles Light carrier which had three RP squadrons. Combined with the other RP assets that gave us a reinforced Wing. Though not one that could not be deployed in a single strike, not without uncovering our air fleet.

Still, those three Squadrons could be deployed freely. Albeit in that case protecting the carrier would fall on the Squadrons that were watching the other assets in our little formation.

"How are Octavia and GreyDawn doing?" I asked about the two other pilots in my Flight.

"Octavia is settling in. Their Ritual Plate is in good status and they're currently on standby," VioletBlood stated.

"Including yours?" I asked with a light smile.

"Yes, it's working fine."

"Are you getting used to your Polyxo?" Now I sharpened my smile.

"Yes! Your training has gotten me quite used to the new capabilities, thank you!" VioletBlood assured me.

"Good," I purred. I really only had one objection to the baroness buying her own advanced multi-role suit. I even asked my duchess to help expedite her order. And that objection was that I did not want my wingwoman to be a clumsy novice, unable to use such a piece of hardware to its fullest. Thankfully, she was willing to accept some training before we deployed.

VioletBlood nodded. "I can see why you like yours, it really is a step up from the Polydora"

"That is the point. Now, how are Octavia and GreyDawn taking the waiting?"

"Octavia was getting stir crazy until we started doing a bit more patrol flights and recon. GreyDawn is helping her. It'll put more wear on our parts and give our Ritualista more work but..."

I nodded. Idleness was a massive detriment for soldiers. Also I wanted more intelligence about activities on the surface. The Prefect Centurion in charge of the Legionary component on the ship had let a couple Contubernium of her forward recon go out to investigate the surface.

A handful of squads of eight Legionaries had found some activity around the city where the ceasefire was being negotiated but nothing definitive. It was enough to mark a few transit routes and choke points that could be bombarded if enemy forces were detected using them.

Our Task Force's heavy hitter was a Mace class Destroyer. It carried eighteen Fujiwara aerial Torpedoes. Each was a missile about twenty feet long and weighing about two and a half tons. They came in a lot of variants: fleet defense, fleet strike, ground support and more. Ours had a mix which increased flexibility but decreased capacity.

That was the big limit; once our destroyer shot its Torpedoes they were gone. There was a set of reloads on the cargo ships but they would take time to transfer over. And once those were gone the Destroyer would be empty. It still had some value as a persistent platform for an RP Squadron.

Meanwhile, Ritual Plate can be sent on multiple missions, assuming they survived. However, there was something nice about launching an expendable munition to take out a target. Far less risky.

And I was not just saying that because as a Ritual Plate pilot, every target destroyed by a big missile was one less I had to risk my neck over.

Still, this gave a formation that while those two centuries, 160 Legionaries, did not have much in the way of heavy equipment, they had a lot of potential air support. Unless something made a concerted effort on our airships.

"Luxon has been spending a tithe of its military slowly grinding Vualia for decades," I noted, clasping my hands behind my back.

"These minor wars are draining."

"It will be more draining if we're drawn in," I noted. Abstractly, a two front war on Luxon could be interesting, but then with us going after Luxon on our eastern border, Elena might come in on our northern border.

But just because the higher geopolitics were beyond my ability to influence decisions, did not mean I did not want to know exactly what kind of mess I had been put into.

From what I had learned at the briefings the squadron heads had given to Flight leaders, such as myself, current Fleet Intel and the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance was fairly confident that while Ritual Plate and several heavy weapons assets had fallen into the hands of the various groups that had been spawned as minor House Vualia slowly fragmented and House Luxon's proxies started getting their own ideas....

There were not the numbers and skill to make a serious bid for an organized Task Force.

Even one our diminutive size.

"How does it feel to be a tripwire?" I asked.

"Am I supposed to prefer I was on the larger vessel?" VioletBlood shrugged. "I mean a Hadian does have nicer facilities. I heard they even had a makeshift pool made out of one of the water ballast tanks."

I shook my head. "I suppose I can't begrudge you for wanting luxuries."

"Oh? what do you want?"

"Quicker mail. There's such a delay for non-critical messages out here." I frowned and sipped my drink. "I know it's indulgent."

"Oh? Anyone... special you wanted to talk to?" VioletBlood teased. "Or just family?"


I blinked. "Before we deployed I was doing an interesting point and counterpoint with an anonymous pilot at a western base in the Journal on Air Combat about the finer points of using Zephyr for thrust vectoring. I don't agree with all her arguments but it was engaging. Ah well."

VioletBlood gave me a big smile. "Well maybe you can just keep up a slower paced long distance relationship."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, yes, we both want little luxuries."

"I mean mine can be met by flying over to Task Force 403," VioletBlood smugly said. "They have a ship large enough for a pool."

In a bid of sanity we were not the only Task Force in the area. Task Force 403 had a Medium Air Trinity of a Maul Cruiser, Mellona Medium Carrier, and Pike Torpedo Bomber Tender, their scouting force, escorts, and fleet train, plus a full Cohort of Legionaries and their VTOLs on a Hadian LRI transport. Said Task Force had been assembled in the same operational area as ours.

That came to over a Wing of Ritual Plat that could be deployed without putting a dent into their defensive formations, over a hundred ready aerial Torpedoes, over seventy more as reloads in the cargo ships, and a light squadron of five Hasta Torpedo bombers.

The Hasta had a combat radius that ranged between about 750 miles to 1,200 miles depending on how fast the bomber was going, and each could carry a pair of Fujiwara Torpedoes. Which extended the functional range of the Fujiwara and could launch them from multiple vectors all while using a platform that was a bit more expendable. The Hasta could also work in a defensive or persistent patrolling role.

"I didn't bring my bathing suit," VioletBlood said and looked down at the land below us. It was largely forested but there were rising mountains and crags and warrens. And if Vualia implodes?"

I frowned and pondered. There really was an advantage that came with a stronger Task Force.

Combined with the Medium Trinity's Ritual Plate Wing, it was a fair collection of assets that could deploy a good distance from their mother airships. And did not even count the dozen Umbra medium VTOLs, the flight of three Spahta Light VTOLs and two escorting squadrons of the Legionary Ritual Plate on the Hadian also attached to the larger Task Force.

The Medium Trinity had as their escorts a squadron consisting of three Kolibri Patrol carriers and three Kolibri Torpedo corvettes. Three times the size of the tiny Venture scout, the Kolibri was a fast, and inexpensive ship that could be configured for a lot of roles. As a patrol carrier it could hold two Light Squadrons for a total of eighteen Ritual Plate and a Spatha Light VTOL. As a corvette it could carry eight aerial Torpedoes and a single Light Squadron.

I sipped my coffee and pondered the baroness' question. "What do you think?'


"Queen Vualia's control of her interior territory has decayed as factions and movements rose up. All upset with the idea that a stalemate would be the best thing that could be promised. What if House Vualia turns into another one of those blank parts on the map that had a notional House, but was really just a mess of city-state tyrants?"

"An end to organized resistance would suit Luxon just fine, They can take on every pretty war-lady brood queen in turn. Who knows, in time with larger land, resources, and population, Luxon might eclipse us in power."

"And even Alecto could make use of that fall. Who could blame them if house Vualia imploded? They had done everything to supply and help the minor House." VioletBlood's tail flicked. "Though it would probably be best for Alecto if instead of being destroyed, House Vualia was reduced to a rump state."

"Something small and manageable that Queen Vualia could control and thus continue to buy arms and support from Alecto? Perhaps." I finished my coffee. "But there's another angle."

VioletBlood tilted her head.

"It doesn't take much from Luxon surpassing us, to them threatening Elena in primacy. And while Elena and Luxon are strong allies, it is mostly so they can stand together against us, and be dominating against the medium Great Houses."

"And Elena wants to stay the senior in their partnership?"

I nodded. It was... not surprising, but still ominous how even a minor brushfire war over a thousand miles from Diyu between a Great House and a fragmenting minor House could, if things went wrong, end up destabilizing the balance of power between the Great Houses.

It was all so wasteful.

I nodded to VioletBlood. "Get Octavia and GreyDawn, I want us to do a Flight exercise. I'll see if either Centurion in charge of the infantry centuries wants to do a little exercise in calling fire support."

VioletBlood blinked. "You think you can get drop permission?"

I shook my head. "We'll all have to war-game it. But our role is to support the Legionaries and we'll let the Fleet girls take the job of controlling our airspace."

VioletBlood nodded, feeling more confident than I did. I had enough experience to know that air superiority could be very ephemeral, but if things went bad and those Legionaries had to be deployed then they would do so without heavy armor. Neither taskforce had any tanks or Infantry Fighting Vehicles, and there were only three Arachne artillery systems in both task forces.


And while there was a number of Fujiwara Torpedoes including anti-infantry and anti-armor variants with large warhead payload and a lot of cleverly-lethal submunitions there was a finite number of them. We did not have the luxury of a bombardment cruiser that could dedicate the majority of its magazines to ground attack munitions. And even with the best telemetry there was a limit to how close you could fire them at friendly troops.

If it came down to legionary fighting, we would be their heavy firepower.

But that was the whole point of being Imperial Legion Ritual Plate Pilots.

++++++

Putting the metal mug and plate into the return bin, I exited the forward mess and went up starboard the forward-aft passageway and around a jog to a small briefing room that was a deck above the main Ritual Plate maintenance bay.

I sat down in one of the chairs that had been secured to the deck. Most compartments on Fleet Airships had tracks in the floor panels that allowed furniture to be attached via latches that did allow relocation when needed, but the rest of the time were fixed in place.

One of the key rules about airships was that unsecured objects can easily become dangerous projectiles if the vessel suddenly jolts or bumps. A table tumbling down a room was one level of concern. A quartet of seventeen ton Umbra medium VTOLs rolling around in the aft hangar could seriously upset the whole airship's balance, stability, and structural integrity.

The squadron commander, Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus was already in the conference room at the head of the table. Her flickering orange eyes looked over me. Her green braid was a bit shorter than when she had been my instructor.

"Primus," she nodded to me. "You're early. And dressed," she said after noting that I was wearing a loose black tunic over the reinforced, enchanted, and flexible suit pilots wore under the hard shell armor that made up the outer Ritual Plate.

"I finished eating early, no reason for me to hover over VioletBlood, Octavia, and GreyDawn."

"You've been having them do more exercises?"

I nodded. "Focusing on communications training with the Centurions, her subordinates in charge of the Centuries and even some of the Decani in charge of individual Contubernium."

"Good, I'm glad I'm not alone in my paranoia," Prefect Quirinus nodded. She then looked up as her two other Primus Centurion Flight leaders entered the compartment.

With straight pale blue hair, and golden eyes, Primus Caenis was Prefect Quirinus' wingwoman and official commander of the First Flight while also second commander of the squadron. Coming in at her heel was the shorter sharp-cheeked shaved head, crimson-skinned form of Primus Mercy Gabinus.


After them came a tall, solid woman with short blonde hair, deep purple skin, and rather short little red horns. Wearing a white Fleet tunic, Prefect Volantes Centurion Tatius RavenSnow was the commander of the RP squadron assigned to HFV Garuda.

Trailing her was another Flight commander in fleet livery who was almost as petite as I was, but Primus Wencesla had to be at least twice my age, maybe three times. It was hard to tell given her green eyes seemed very remote and reserved but her features were exceptionally fine and delicate.

The two Squadron commanders nodded to each other as everyone sat down.

"I invited RavenSnow over because I feel that this influences all of us. We can't have everyone here because one Flights is out providing Combat Air Patrol and another is on standby as our happy ship's ready reaction force," Prefect Quirinus stated.

"It seems that the negotiations are nearing their end and a ceasefire is about to be signed." Prefect RavenSnow stated.

Most of the other Flight leaders cheered while the Squadron commanders were stiff in posture with stilled tails.

I sighed. "We're going on high alert then?"

Quirinus smiled. "You always were a cynical cadet. That's why I decided to take you under my wing when I got to rotate out of a training billet.

"Our countess is correct." She looked at the rest of us. "Right now, there's a lot of people unhappy with the idea that 'their side' is throwing in the towel for the status quo. And we want to get our people out of the city as soon as possible."

"The signing itself is an obvious target but so is leading up to it, and even afterwards when everyone is leaving," RavenSnow agreed.

Quirinus looked to myself and her other Flight leaders; she made lingering eye contact. "I want you coordinating with the Century commanding officers as I think we'll be doing ground support before long. Tauria has augmented the standard refresher training for this scenario. After this meeting, ask for copies of her plan."

I bowed my horns.

"The whole of Task Force 402 will be shifting to a higher alert. With RavenSnow and her friends on the Syracuse, our Damocles light carrier, I'm happy with our strike and air superiority capabilities. Myself, all my focus will be on our people down there. The negotiation team, their guards, and the poor Legionaries we're probably going to have to send down to get them out. The rest of the city can burn for all I care."

"We're pulling the negotiators out of the city?" Primus Wencesla asked, a rather deep voice coming out of her tiny form.

I frowned, the negotiations themselves were taking place in a resort a few miles to the south of the city. It was mostly a place for skiing and other winter sports. Though in the summer there was some use of mountain, hiking, climbing and base jumping, a sport that was far safer if you could fly.

Over the years though with the occupation inching closer the resort was used less and less, and in the summer months was hardly used at all. Making it an isolated, but luxurious place to try to hold the negotiations.

"The Vualia and Luxon delegations are supposed to leave after the signing, and followed by the Alecto and BlackSky arbitration teams." Quirinus shook her head. "Thankfully the signing itself will be in the resort, but there are supposed to be some ceremonies in the city, provided it's not on fire."

I frowned. Ortov was barely a city but did mark a trade area in what remained of northern Vualia. It was close to a de facto open city as its distance to the border made it untenable to keep major hardware there.

The northern command, and major base, of House Vualia's northern front was kept in the city of Milhen a couple hundred miles to the south of here. If Milhen fell then the eastern and northern parts of Vualia would fall, leaving them with a rump state near their coastal capital of Huburia.

"If things go bad I'm planning on deploying my squadron to help with ground support as well," RavenSnow said. Two of her three flights were Polydora multi-role with One Flight, hers, were Harmonia air superiority models.

Conversely, Quirinus' squadron was half Polydora and half Polyxo advanced multi-role: Quirinus First Flight, myself and VioletBlood. I had the dubious distinction of having a mixed model Flight. Quirinus had flown a Harmonia when she was my cadet instructor, but in a bid to logistics sanity, she had changed to a Polyxo when she took over this squadron.

"I've gotten the approval of the ship's captain. If we all have to go down, Trierarch Melodious will move the HFV Garuda to the fleet train and let the cargo ships' RP squadrons protect this airship as well. This will also put us more firmly under the defensive umbrella of the destroyer Vajra."

I nodded, it was a hard calculus, especially with smaller ships. While a fleet airship did have multi--layered defenses: high power ward shields, banks of Vel interceptor missiles, and Mertis six-barrel heavy rotary cannon, they were still airships. Fragility, large size, and relatively low speed were intrinsic to the platform.

That was what made Ritual Plate and Fujiwara Aerial Torpedoes a natural complement for defending fleet elements.

"Further, baring unpleasantness, our larger cousin, Task Force 403, should be able to help. They can deploy a full cohort of Legionaries and a lot more air assets."

"Not to mention whatever our allies in House Alecto bring," I added.

Quirinus met my gaze. "We are coordinating with them. They have a naval Task Force near the border and assets in the city but given the occupation zone is a peninsula, it would be a bit of time before reinforcements arrive."

"And their base on Meropis Island?" I asked. They based their Epsilon Fleet there, which while mostly being a force to provide escorts to those transiting the area, did have a squadron of heavier units.

"If it comes to a major fleet action from Alecto then we might be the secondary force in this theater, which suits me fine."

"And possible enemies?" Primus Mercy Gabinus asked. She gave me a slight look and I wondered if there was any jealousy. Yes, she commanded Second Flight, while I had Third Flight and she had more experience, certainly as a combat Flight commander. But I had all that baggage that came with my actions four months ago over Narvos.

"Who wouldn't be our enemy?" Wencesla countered. The Household Fleet Primus Centurion was a remarkably cynical little thing.

RavenSnow nodded to her subordinate. "We can count on Alecto to be on our side and the Vualia regulars wouldn't want to get our, or their Queen's wrath. Luxon would be wary of opening another front, unless they had planned it."

"Other than that there's all sorts of irregulars, that's the problem with proxy forces and irregulars," Quirinus said.

"We need to anticipate hardware and Ritual Plate from both Alecto and Luxon." I frowned, my tail flicking. "Well, Alecton export models are a known quantity to us, and Luxon RP is mostly House Elena designs locally built. Still..."

"Still?" Wencesla inquired.

"We don't want to get complacent. There are a lot of Houses who would be happy if this war blew up. Enemies of us, Alecto, or Luxon."

"Which is everyone," Wencesla laughed.

I nodded to the Household Fleet demoness who barely stood taller than me. "Right, and this invasion has been going on for a while, and these negotiations aren't secret."

"What are you saying?" Quirinus asked.

"It would be really nice if some CSR spooks were out and about," I shrugged. There was some on-the-ground scouting being done but that was more tactical in scale of tracking local potential enemy movements and styling terrain.

The Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance existed to go into a situation and take a full view of the social, economic, cultural, strategic, and logistical factors. To understand the factions, their goals and enemies and allies.

I was pretty sure my duchess's actions in Narvos had CSR claw-marks all over it. I did not press because a young, innocent-looking, but extremely skilled and vicious pilot would be exactly the kind of person CSR would want to recruit.

Not for undercover or infiltration work, but to provide backup in case an operation was blown and their agents needed to be pulled out.

RavenSnow snorted. "Careful about wishing for steak, little countess."

"Aye ma'am," I bowed my horns to her . "Wish for steak and you might get it alive, articulated, and attached to something angry with big horns."

Wencesla quirked a lip. "Or someone angry."

I frowned. It was an... unpleasant variant to the idiom, but the sentiment was true enough.

"Also I want you to coordinate with the Ventus Centurions piloting our VTOLs. Escorting those ships as they drop Legionaries will be the first thing we'll be doing to help the hoof-sloggers make it out alive," Quirinus stated.

With a crew of three: pilot, copilot, and load mistress, the Umbra Medium VTOL was a roughly seventy foot long workhorse utility transport. It could move nearly ten tons of cargo, forty legionaries, their supplies, and support equipment, a pair of small vehicles like Nymph light transports or Nyx stealth scouts, or an Arachne artillery system.

The Umbra was a good mix of small enough to be berthed on most airships and land on all airships and large enough to have a decent storage capacity for airborne resupply or combat drops. With a combat radius of about eight hundred miles it had fair range. It was armed with Vel Missiles and Minerva three barrel rotary canons and protected by some warding, countermeasure launchers and a bit of Veiling. There was a more expensive variant used for more CSR style operations that had full-blown near-invisibility capabilities.

A Flight of two Umbra mediums could deploy a Century of Legionaries. And they could do a much better job if there were some Ritual Plate protecting them.

And more than just the loss in lives and ground combat capability, losing an Umbra was a loss in tactical lift capacity. Which was especially acute when our Task Force only had a heavy squadron of the things. Four on our troopship and one each on the...

"What about the cargo ships in the fleet train?" I asked. Each Opis class Light Fleet Cargo vessel had a single Umbra as a cargo shuttle.

Approval in her eyes, Quirinus nodded. "We've kicked it up and got agreement to have them as a reserve and as a second wave if needed once the four VTOLs onboard this ship launch. That'll help get some of the Legionary's heavy equipment down faster."

"And the Flight of three Spatha Light VTOLs on the Damocles Light carrier? Wencesla asked.

RavenSnow inclined her head to her. "I've contacted the staff on the HFV Syracuse and their Spatha will be used for pilot recovery and any small-scale ground insertion. We've got the scouting group in the Ventures doing more screening to give us a bit more time in case something goes wrong."

Good, I was happy the Fleet officers were more than willing to contribute as much hardware as possible to this. About a third of the size of the Umbra, the Spatha had a quarter the capacity. But that made it useful for delivering or recovering ten Legionaries, medical evacuation, deploying Marius Mules, or a couple tons of cargo.

They had roughly the same layout as an Umbra: aft ramp, twin V-shaped tail, high-fuselage mounted stub wings with rotating Zephyr-powered engine pods on the ends, port and starboard sliding doors, forward cockpit with avionics, scrying, weapons, and canards in the nose.

The Spatha was much smaller, a bit slower, and had a shorter range. But they were great for roles when an Umbra was too large.

"I'm glad we've come to such an accord." RavenSnow gave Quirinus a wry look. It seemed she was pleased with the Legionary Squadron Commander's subordinates. It was an important balance to make your superior look good while not outshining them. "I was worried you might think that we in the Fleet don't work for a living."

Quirinus flashed her teeth. "Not everyone in the Household Fleet is a layabout who rests in a pool after a hard day of watching the ground roll past, polishing levers, and eating honey cakes. Some of you could pass for Legionary Fliers."

"Yes and not all Legionaries need help keeping their horns from getting tangled in their helmets, can't read the instructions on their ammo crates, or have Tribunes who need a map to tell them which direction the ground is," RavenSnow countered.

The two Prefect Centurions laughed.

"I'll renew our contacts with the 3 squadrons on the cargo ships doing fleet defense and the 3 on the Syracuse that can be deployed. I don't want to send our forces in penny-packets because we're underestimating or in denial of the scale of the problem," RavenSnow said.

"What about asking for Task Force 403?" I inquired. "Combining our forces with a Medium Air Trinity and a full LRI Cohort would give us over four times the Legionaries, Ritual Plate, Aerial Torpedoes, and an entire light squadron of Hasta Torpedo bombers. Not to mention a Kolibri Patrol squadron could give us some real scouting in force."

RavenSnow looked at me and an expression of maternal indulgence flickered between one of vague unease. "Honestly, I've made the case, but as you point out, that squadron of Torpedo boats is already within their combat radius. Same as their landing craft and Ritual Plate. It'd be nicer if they were closer but their worry is that if hostilities restart won't just be here."

I bowed my head to concede the point. When to concentrate and when to disperse one's forces was a judgment call. An advantage of BlackSkyvian doctrine was that, at great cost: monetary, infrastructure, manpower, and logistics, we had a considerable range of power projection That is when it came time to deploy Legionaries, Ritual Plate, Torpedo bombers, or Aerial Torpedoes we were not limited to the area immediately around the airship Task Force.

Which was another key part of the defensive doctrine of the Household Fleet, as they liked having distance, and thus time, between themselves and enemies, if at all possible.

Naturally, our enemies knew this, and did their best to deny us that advantage.

"Unfortunately, the window of potential attack is too broad to keep everyone up and awake," Quirinus sighed. "We will be at a higher status alert. We will keep our three shifts but will have one Flight from each of our Squadrons in the air at all times, and everyone in Standby Flights will be suited up."

She held a hand to cut off any minor protest. When airships wanted to keep a 24 hour persistent Air Patrol they typically used a three shift rotation. Each rotation was staggered and had a seven and a half hour rest period, a pair of roughly four hour patrols and a period of seven hours of standby status in the middle. There was also some prep time to get suited up before each patrol.

With the patrols split up it was not that fatiguing, for a short period, but over a long time it did get wearying. Hence ,why earlier we would have one Flight in the air at all times, but with a total of six Flights we could provide some relief substitutions.

This is also why a hitch in a Venture scout could be quite the ordeal. As those tiny airships only had six Ritual Plate, and if they wanted to keep a persistent patrol that required a pilot and her wingwoman to be out at all times.

Some vessels went with a watch cycle of four shifts. This allowed for more overlap in patrolling formations but required the standby part of the watch cycle to be split up. And the largest of airships simply doubled up on having a pair of three Watch Cycles going that were slightly offset.

The worst part would be spending the whole Standby part of the day in Ritual Plate. I would have to remember to bring my paperwork so I could get something done while waiting by my arming chair. Though that could allow my Ritualista to do more fine tuning on the maintenance checklist.

Ritual Plate always needed maintenance, servicing, and checking and most Ritualista crew were never fully satisfied that their suits were a hundred percent.

"It's not just us," Quirinus stated. "We've got two Centuries of Legionaries who will have to be ready at any time to climb onto those Umbra mediums and drop into whatever mess is on the surface because of this ceasefire."

"A lot of Ventus Centurions and their crews are going to be sleeping in the cockpits of their VTOLs," Mercy noted.

Which was fair. While Ventus Centurions, VTOL Pilots, were not as glamorous as Ritual Plate Pilots, they were, if anything, more vital. Ritual Plate can do a lot of roles, but it made for a lousy cargo or troop transport. Not to mention the sheer skill required to thread an aircraft though an airship's stern landing gates or to do a combat drop.

The small size of a Ritual Plate made many maneuvers such as carrier landings far easier than in a fuselage aircraft.

"And all the Fleet personnel will be severely lacking in time to enjoy their honey-cakes," RavenSnow joked.

Quirinus nodded. "Remember, our role here is to do the most we can to prepare for whatever hell the Legionaries end up fighting. We're about as far away from the House as we can without being off-world."

"Any limits on our actions with respect to diplomatic fallout?" I asked.

Quirinus gave me an odd look. "As long as you don't kill the Luxon ambassador or her life wards I think we'll be okay. Or any other ambassadors. Though, I would avoid just killing any Janissaries or Luxon Ritual Plate who are just trying to evacuate their people."

I noted she made no mention of irregulars.

"Right, if there's no other questions, coordinate your training, get the updated lesson plan from our little countess, and update your Flights with the good news about our operational tempo," Quirinus ordered.

RavenSnow gave a nod of agreement.

Passing out some sheets of flimsy carbon paper, Quirinus stood up. "Here's the modified rotation schedules. I've already had them pushed to your Ritualista crews, given they're the ones who have to keep you lot in the air.

I memorized the paper before folding it. I would keep it long enough to brief my Flight and then dispose of it. In the field, burning was the expedient option, but that was not wise given we were in an airship full of munitions, high density alchemical fuels, empowered enchantments, and the contents of our lifting cells.

The various additives to the gas mixture made the Fleet Airships into something other than total death traps. But I was still anxious. On the other hand, I could fly.

For obvious reasons, everyone was trained in damage control, and the dedicated Damage Control crew were all skilled pyromancers. Still, being sloppy with fire was an unnecessary risk. The note could be shredded, eaten, or I could go to the smoking lounge and burn it there.

Quirinus turned sympathetic. "We tried to keep it so everyone would start the new shifts without needing to be up for more than eighteen hours."

"We don't want you to be using any Pep pills right now." RavenSnow frowned as we started to file out. "I fear we may have to rely on those soon enough."

My tail stilled at that. It was a prudent worry, but if the Squadron commanders thought we would be having Wing-sized combat lasting long enough, the better part of a day, that their pilots would have to take military stimulants to keep going....

Pilot fatigue was a limiting factor to Ritual Plate. Fuel cells could be swapped out, munitions systems replenished, even Ritualista could make repairs when Flights came back for replenishment, but the pilot inside, she had only so much mental energy.

I would need to make sure my Flight was ready.

++++++

I sat down into the arming chair with a thud. My Ritual Plate practically sighed as my Zephyr spooled down and my Ritualista team started helping ease them to quiescence.

I leaned back and relaxed. Bolts and clams extended from the chair to support the frame of my armor. My wings went limp and fell behind me. In nearby chairs the rest of my Flight were also getting out of their suits.

And on the other side of the bay, Household Fleet Primus Wencesla and her flight were also getting out of their suits.

My maintenance chief, a sour-faced cynical Optio with long black hair, stepped in front of me. I gave Suzette Gibbs a thumbs up and she motioned and one of her crew started separating my helmet. First came off the faceplate and then came the sides and back pieces. This allowed the Hemet to come apart around my horns.

I breathed in and out. After a thankfully monotonous, four hour patrol mission even the acrid, metal-tinged air of the Ritual Plate bay was a step up.

"Any problems, Primus?" Optio Gibbs asked.

I shook my head. "Everything is green."

She gave a disbelieving look as her tail curled and she pulled up a diagnostic screen that was plugged into the back of the arming chair. "We're nearing the end of life on some of the power regulation enchantments and the alignment of your secondary scrying system is a bit off."

"I'm wearing a Gorgon rig for these flights," I stated, eyeing to the extra equipment on my helmet that sheathed over my horns. Other Ritualista were working on my gloves and powering down the weapons and warding systems in my gauntlets and chest armor.

Matching my gaze, Gibbs frowned at me.

"Okay, if you can get the spares and do the work instead of sleeping tonight that's fine by me."

Gibbs sniffed as her tail flicked, but she allowed it. The problem with Ritualista was they often felt that the suits were theirs. Sure, I flew the thing but that was, on average, only for a few hours a day. Meanwhile Gibbs had a whole team who fussed over the complicated collection of enchantments for the majority of every day.

Not that I would keep them from doing a good job. If they wanted to double their efforts then that was fine by me. When things went bad, I was going to depend on this Polyxo Mark 15 Gamma Block to keep me alive.

I curled my toes as the nearly en point stylized sabatons and their connected greaves were opened up and pushed back. At least when flying the angle those things put my ankles at was not a pain. I knew the reasons why Ritual Plate, at least BlackSkyvian variants, had footwear like that. And while there was some small excuse for better aerodynamics.

And there were mitigating factors that Ritual Plate was not supposed to be used on the ground. Still when it came down to it, the heels were an aesthetic choice. One that irked me as much as how the armor was contoured around hips and torso. To where it gave a feminine form that was exaggerated regardless of how little or how many curves someone had. Thankfully there was not too much of that with my suit.

Again, part of that was functional. Or at least that internal components had to be stored somewhere in the armor. So some areas were going to be thicker than others, and when mobility concerns and overall aesthetics were taken into account, one ended with a certain design form.

Plus wings meant that we could not use backpack style storage. Even infantry legionaries had to carry their kit in small of the back style haversacks and slings over one hip.

It came down to that Ritual Plate was a thaumaturgical collection of heavily enchanted and artificer-built components that had a specific aesthetic and cultural weight.

I sighed and accepted a flask of water from one of the maintainers who was hovering about taking parts and tools to and fro. All while the rest of the crew in their dark blue one piece jumpsuits moved around. They had belts and harnesses over their suits which were used to hold tools and other odds and ends.

Now that my weapons had been depowered and were being disconnected they started working on the fuel cells. I still had a fair bit of reserve but topping them off was standard procedure.

Since my Polyxo was configured in air superiority and interception roles, I had more power to maneuverability at the higher speed performance. And was armed with Ballista weapon projectors.

These were high-power long range weapons that could fire arcane energy at a power and distance second only to the Lances of a Telephe strike unit.

While not capable of breaching capital-grade ship protection, the Ballista had far greater capacity. And could be dialed in power. At the higher end they could take out small ships, attack aircraft, and bombers. At a lower power setting they could fire in burst mode that was useful for strafing infantry targets, or light armored vehicles.

An in between setting was useful against enemy Ritual Plate or more well protected ground targets. While the Ballista was not an ideal air to ground weapons system, it was still a lot of evocation magic packed into an energy dense blast of power.

The key to the Ballista was knowing how to control the trade off between power, firing rate, and capacity. If you could line up and ensure a given shot would hit then a single knock out punch would be worth it. On the other hand, a dispersed pattern of lower power might catch the enemy and disable the ability to maneuver.

This was especially true as at the highest power setting one could empty their munition capacity in not much more than a dozen shots.

Like most aerial combat, being the first to position yourself and get the shot off before your enemy knew where you were was ideal.

I drank some more water as more connections, cables, and links were undone. Even with the power systems off and the suit now pressing on me with its natural weight, the whole thing still thrummed with power.

I looked over and saw the two Flights on standby were basically resting around their arming chairs, having minor maintenance, doing paperwork, and having a bit of a snack. All good ideas.

The waist and chest pieces were unlatched and hinged open. A few of my crew were checking the internal water canteens and the rest of the hydration and nutrition systems. The various drinking and nutrition tubes had to be cleaned on the regular, just another little thing on the maintenance checklist.

I rolled my shoulders but then stopped when the back armor, still bolted to the chair, started to be undone. The armored bits between and above my wings were removed which allowed me to get up.

The last few connections between my bodysuit and the plates of the Ritual Plate were disconnected. In her traditional role, when circumstances allowed, Optio Gibbs held out her hand and pulled me up to my feet.

I stretched out my wings and tail. The dark grey-blue bodysuit I wore under the armor was comfortable enough. It had good heat regulation systems and kept sweat from pooling. It was not the most flattering garment and it was tight in some spots, loose in others. It was edged in enchantments as well and sized to each pilot. With its collection of ports, connections, and harness straps for anchoring armor plates it was a bracingly practical garment.

It made me smile that despite the ornate affections, as possibly justified as some may be, of Ritual Plate on the outside, on the inside it was all function.

"I'll be right back," I told Gibbs before stretching my leg out and up and then the other. It was a bit of a risk to stand on one leg on an airship. But one advantage of my time in ballet was phenomenal balance and flexibility.

Which were useful when your day job was training to fly an armored suit into battle. I then did a squat and arched my back backwards and did a few other stretches. While Ritual Plate was quite flexible and you could do a lot in it, see my ballet experience, there were some movements that the armored suits could not allow.

After doing that, I quickly went to do something that was allowed in Ritual Plates, but I liked to avoid it whenever possible. Which was why airships always had a set of heads near the Ritual Plate bays. And why there would be a bit of a rush to the bathrooms once a Flight, or two, came in and got out of their armor.

After taking care of the necessities, I went to the group of pilots on standby and grabbed a sandwich and some coffee from the cart that was locked onto the deck.

I nodded to them and went back to the maintenance crew. Chewing through some sort of salted pork, cabbage, fish sauce, on a wheat bun I chased it with a bit of salty, burnt Fleet coffee and then crunched on a gritty red orb that was part of every soldier's rations.

At least the bread was fresh-baked. It was amusing that it saved on weight cargo space, especially freezer space, to simply carry the components for bread and bake it onboard the airship.

Flushing with energy, both caloric and life, I had a few more bites. I was hungry now and just wanted something to cut off the edge. Before going to my rack for sleep, I planned to head to the mess and get a more proper meal.

Reaching Gibbs, I held out a hand and my maintenance chief handed me a clipboard. Paperwork was inevitable.

It was best to get ahead of it, though my bed did call to me. It was less of a mattress and more of an interwoven double-layer hammock-like surface with a rectangular frame. With a wool blanket over it, it was surprisingly comfortable, if a bit springy. However its real advantage was that it was very light.

A Phoenician class transport like this could berth nearly four hundred and forty people. Reducing weight on even things like crew amenities did add up.

Eating one of her own sandwiches, VioletBlood walked up to me. She still had her noble composure, despite weariness on her features. I nodded to her. "Any issues?"

"We're good," VioletBlood gestured to the other pair in my Flight.

Octavia had glossy black hair, purple eyes and, nearly black, dark purple skin. Her wings were a bit on the large side and her tail was longer than normal. She looked willowy and like she still needed some time to fully grow into her form. Which made sense as she was only a couple years older than VioletBlood.

She bowed amethyst colored longhorn style horns at me. "Primus." Her tone was respectful.

"Any issues?" I asked her.

"No, Ma'am!"

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"No, Ma'am! I just got out of my suit. I was going to go up to the mess in a moment."

I sighed. It had taken a bit of time to train her out of being so overawed by her Flight leader. Sure, Octavia was relatively green but she had more combat experience than I did and she was four years my senior.

Crazy demons. I flipped through a few more papers on my clipboard. I signed where I could and made a proxy notation for my seal. I was not in the habit of wearing my Preserver award when I flew.

"GreyDawn, get your wingwoman watered, fed, and make sure she does all the necessities now when she'd got the chance.

GreyDawn was the eldest member of my Flight and I suspected was put here by Prefect Quirinus to keep an eye on me. A no-nonsense Legionary Flier with orange hair that was red at the roots and paler at the tips with grey skin and amber eyes; she had large curled horns and was as solidly built as she was phlegmatic.

I felt she was a good choice to round out my Flight and appreciated her calm, professional demeanor. She was over halfway through her first term of service and while I was not sure if she had any desire for advancement to higher rank, she was the type of experienced Flier that made up the backbone of the Imperial Legions' Ritual Plate force.

Naturally, I paired her with Octavia. I could keep an eye on VioletBlood.

"I could go for a snack too," GreyDawn said, giving me an approving nod before pulling Octavia along.

"Sleep would be nice," VioletBlood muttered as she chewed through her sandwich.

"Proper meal, debriefing, then sleep," I said, finishing up the paperwork and handing the clipboard over to Gibbs.

"Is there even that much to talk about?" VioletBlood sipped her water.

"Only a couple things," I yawned. Their performance on the last patrol mission was acceptable enough. I will admit I was looking forward to a nice sit down meal.

And that's when the sirens started going off telling everyone to go to General Quarters.

VioletBlood jerked her head and her eyes widened, but to her credit she went straight to her arming chair.

I gave a long suffering sigh and finished my sandwich and drained the coffee mug. the good news was that it was not the shrill Incoming Attack alarm. The bad news was that it was the warbling, deeper, almost mournful Drop alarm.

A crisp voice came in over the Primary Circuit. "General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands to battle stations. All Legionaries to landing craft. All Ritual Plate prepare for launch."

Lovely. It looks like the fight was going to take place before the ceasefire was signed after all.

I sat down into the arming chair and relaxed as the Ritualista stared bolting me back into the Ritual Plate. The two Flights on standby were already moving toward the launchers further in the bow, while the two flights that had just gotten out of the damn suits, including mine, were putting them back on.

Gibbs handed me a smoked glass display and I read the deployment orders. Thankfully there were no surprises. "Configuration?" she asked.

"Ground attack, I confirmed. Spread it to the rest of the Flight."

Gibbs nodded and shouted an order to one of her crew who dashed off to the other arming chairs. VioletBlood was shaking her head with a weary sigh. GreyDawn was placidly eating a quick meal while she was being armored. And Octavia was trying to copy her wingwoman's actions.


As I was being connected to the armor and the plates were being secured around me, my Ritual Plates' power systems were tuned. The change was less high speed maneuverability and more low speed capability. More warding modules were also installed. They came at an aerodynamic and power cost that made them not as desirable for air superiority roles, but when dealing with slower attacks against ground fire it was a good trade off.

Different weapons systems including gauntlet and chest piece add-ons were installed. "Make sure I have a full spread on my Falx and use the aiming calibrations from that test three days ago," I ordered.

The Falx projector was the standard anti-infantry Ritual Plate weapon. It had a high rate of fire and good penetration and fair capacity. The downside was that the range was best used for close air support roles. The carrier wave that kept the thermal bloom contained was simpler and thus less effective than those used in Lances or even the air to air Ballista projector.

And even with nearly a thousand "rounds" of arcane energy a pilot could run empty pretty quickly if she was not careful. And even that number came at the cost of overall loiter time and number of rounds in the other weapons systems.

The crew nodded. "And your Pilum?" Gibbs asked.

"Configuration B." The Pilum was basically a bigger version of the Falx projector. The emitters were calibrated to a lower rate of fire, and a higher energy density. They were a bit slow for air roles but made for devastating anti-material weapons. And they could be boosted to an anti-armor mode, but that reduced capacity.

I had just asked for the anti-armor mode. "Have VioletBlood and Octavia with Configuration A. That way we have one of each mode in each pair."

That was a good reason, and Gibbs nodded. But she also seemed to accept my unspoken real reason. While a pilot could swap between modes in the air, it took a few moments to do, and added stress to the system. Moreso while Configuration B could be used in anti-material mode it required a cooler head to not waste shots and risk straining the system.

Between the Falx and Pilum projectors I could see how the Sarpedona Ground Support Ritual Plate, or Multi Role models in that role, could fill roughly the same niche as an attack helicopter.

"Anything special with the pebbles for you Verutum Launcher?" Gibbs asked.

I took a moment to ponder and read the updated information on the display. The Verutum was one of the few solid munition-based Ritual Plate weapons. The housing carried a dozen pairs of precisely carved and enchanted teardrops of obsidian girdled with engraved steel spars. The "pebbles", as the munitions were called, could be charged with an arcane energy based on the pilot's desires and then launched out.

They had some little utility as a kinetic kill weapon. Though with only two dozen shots and a small size any other Ritual Plate weapon would be better. Their real purpose was that they could lob something that was charged with a specific magical effect.

The Verutum was considered a utility anti-arcane weapon against various grenadiers, combat engineers, mage artillery, and other heavy-duty magic users.

"Third thaumaturgical paired shots, third counter-veil, third simple charges," I stated finishing my read on the intel brief of what was happening. It was not much: hostiles inbound in potential cohort strength with air cover.

Gibbs simply nodded, doubtless she had read the same info as it came in. If she thought I was being paranoid for expecting to deal with enemy armor and sorcerers she did not voice it.

I was nearly suited up. I gave a thumbs up as they put the helmet in place and then locked my facemask on. My groggy Zephyr had been coaxed back awake and after a moment eagerly filled the various systems as propulsion and power started to spool up to idle.

I voiced the startup checklist as my internal displays turned on and I connected with my Flight, Squadron, and Wing Control. "Systems are green," I announced as the bolts retracted.

Light on my feet, I stood up and flexed a bit in the Ritual Plated, empowered and in its full arcane potential it felt almost like a second skin. I turned to my Flight and nodded.

"Okay girls, first job is we make sure those Centuries make it to the ground. Then we can find and punish those who thought they could attack House BlackSky under a flag of truce."

"Yes, Primus Centurion!" the three replied as we made our way to the launchers.

End Chapter 6

Hey you gotta let me have some cliffhangers

Besides, there was a lot of setup to have Tauria into her first command and the situation she's in.

Also I'm very happy with how much positive reception this story has had for its characters, action, plot and world building. I've got a few more pieces of art in the works.

I'm also thinking on the best way to put up more of the lore and world building essays. (That said there is an interest in lore, and I do have a... fair bit to share, but I don't want to make that mandatory or just dump it on someone's head, but if folks do want to read more of that...).

I'm also planning to do a revision and cleanup of the first few chapters. Which I'll do before I post them on like FF.net.

Thanks again!

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 7: Meet Interesting People.

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

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

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

The lights turned green.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much depended on how secure various landing zones were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that we had passed over the enemy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I also put in a tiny wince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a way, the evocation grenadiers were worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I suppose I could understand that worry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which suited me just fine.

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

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

Well...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"There are demonic Janissaries," GreyDawn stated.

"And not just their officers?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++++

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

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

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

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

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

However...

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

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

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

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

VioletBlood made a noncommittal noise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VioletBlood made a thoughtful noise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That would really expand things."

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

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

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

VioletBlood made a chagrined noise.

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

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

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

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

"Morale good?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I sent them the intel package.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GreyDawn made a noncommittal noise.

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

War was such a waste.

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

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

I got pings of affirmation.

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

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

And there they were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I knew which one I would prefer.

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

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

I stared.

VioletBlood's disbelief joined mine.

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

"Maybe they're waiting for maintenance?"

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

"GreyDawn?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, updating?"

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

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

"When are they going to impact?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And a Surtalogi," she added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tension rose as the timer clicked down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

House BlackSky's reputation for bellicosity was not unwarranted.

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

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

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

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

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

"Battle damage assessment?" Telum Centurion asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," My squadron leader replied.

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

"Whatever you need."

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

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

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

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

I swore for a third time.

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

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

End Chapter 7

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

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

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

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 8: And Kill Them Part 1


Rescue missions and urban combat make for a frustrating combination.

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

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

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

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

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

There was a hash of distortion and a clipped signal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++++

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

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

Getting them out was now our job.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Two of you?" The Spatha Pilot asked.

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

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

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

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

"Right."

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

"I am."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"VioletBlood, scuttle that VTOL," I ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

"Diamond Flight, go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are they headed for Ortov?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Composition?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another building to the north went down.

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

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

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


++++++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dangerously so.

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

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

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

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

"Huzzah!" VioletBlood cheered.

Octavia seemed similarly awed based on her commentary.

Oh, I was also on the Flight channel.

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

My tail flicked in the wind stream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What will we do?" Evandne asked.

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

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

And Evadne could provide extra protection.

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

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

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

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

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

++++++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was not my part of the battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The time for recriminations would come at the debriefing.

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

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

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

It was not my problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"As you say," she noted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worse...

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

"Confirm," VioletBlood stated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VioletBlood paused then gave a chuckle. "Confirm."

I would take out the leading elements.

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

That would force the hand of that Archer Flight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


End Chapter 8

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

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

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

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

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

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

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

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

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 9: And Kill Them Part 2


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

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

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

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

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

It had also saved my life.

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

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

The suit did have an emergency release.

That was not an option I relished having to use.

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

For now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pulse active!" I ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Growling, I fired off the now useless pebble.

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

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

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

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

The wizard was exposed, still with her warding up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They ran off and got backup."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you link us your scrying data?"

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

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

++++++

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

Then a new voice came on the comm channel.

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

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

Better than nothing, but not great

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, they were expensive to field and maintain. But in urban combat they had a role, being capable of maneuvering in more confined areas. Especially if Luxon had air superiority.

Typically, an Anker would be supported by a three to five Bastet golems, plus the inevitable maintenance vehicles. Having the same roughly feline four-legged form, the Bastet was far smaller, not quite twice the weight of one of our Marius Mules but about the same size, and had an anti-material projector similar to a Pilum and a forward-mounted twin heavy machine guns.

For the weight, the Bastet was rather lightly armed, as the Luxon designers went with more armor and mobility. However, they could go places most other Luxon vehicles could not go and could be good support for Janissaries, especially sent in for assaults or operating as remote patrol vehicles or fire support.

That Luxon was bringing in what could be considered specialist equipment for urban occupation was not unexpected but was ominous.

And with our forces holding onto our beachhead and our own squadrons up in the air, the irregulars were running out of airspace.

No wonder Flight Ops was having limited VTOL availability. Doubtless some of the Task Force's Umbra mediums had been detached to moving torpedo reloads from the cargo ships to the Destroyer HFV Vajra. Each Umbra could move four Fujiwara Aerial Torpedoes.

"What about the rest of my Flight and the survivors from Spatha 2?" I asked Quirinus over the command channel.

"They got to the retrieval point and we'll be securing the landing area for the pickup," my squadron commander said before giving me a new vector.

Informing VioletBlood, and then moving to follow her, I exhaled. "Good, I sent them out while we blunted that irregular column."

"I see. Any problems?" Quirinus wryly asked.

"Not many. It was the standard mix of old Luxon surplus for ground equipment and Alecton Ritual Plate. The wizard took a bit to take care of," I then added, before switching to my Flight's channel. "GreyDawn, status? How did you and Octavia do?"

"Nominal, Ma'am," the older pilot paused. "Down to the last quarter on munitions. Had to break through a couple improvised blockades and scatter a couple mobs. They managed to keep the big truck running though the whole thing. We're doing a patrol while the truck was put down by an abandoned logging camp. We've been using passive on our scrying."

The truck would still show up on thermals but that far out so would most approaching troops. Unless they were using higher Veils. "Excellent, the squadron is coming to you."

"Ma'am? Flight Ops said we might have to wait a bit."

"Updated orders," Quirinus cut in. "Hopefully we'll be wrapping things up here."

"Understood, we'll keep you directly up to date with our scrying input," GreyDawn sounded a bit relieved, which was good.

Quirinus went to a private channel. "You split your forces."

"One pair could run escort while the other pair slowed the enemy."

"You did what you could with the limited assets," Quirinus stated. I could hear the approval, tension, and weariness in her voice.

Which... was fair. So far, my flight had no casualties, but Quirinus had lost two of the pilots under her command. I didn't even know if they were injured or dead. If the former I hoped they were able to get back to an airship, a Landing zone, or at least an easy place for a Search and Rescue VTOL to get them.

And that we would not have to deal with another Spatha going down.

"We're pulling out?" I asked her.

Quirinus paused. "Likely. We don't have the Legionaries or enough Torpedoes. If Luxon decides to occupy Ortov, we'll be here at their sufferance."

"And there's no advantage to us maintaining a force here." I said with some hidden relief. House Vualia and House Luxon were... well, not exactly fighting. But Luxon was still an expansionist power that was taking over a Vualian city.

"We were here to support the ceasefire negotiations."

"And Task Force 403?" I asked. That was our sister formation and was even larger given they had a cruiser, a medium carrier, a Torpedo bomber tender, a squadron of Kolibri torpedo corvettes and patrol carriers, scouting assets, fleet train, and a Long-Range Insertion troopship that could land an entire infantry cohort.

"They were dealing with a rebel formation to the west of us. One that was more organized." She gave a harsh chuckle. "Not organized enough. They were also closer to the shoreline and Alecto had a naval squadron in the area."

"Ah..." That confirmed some of what I supposed. "It was a coup then?"

"Queen Vualia is most upset with one of her daughters."

I sipped some water. That was how it went. Even the Great Houses on Diyu were eponymously ruled by Elder demonesses. A brutal survivor bias had ensured that the Houses that remained were ones capable of surviving.

Patronage and nepotism were a rule. Even House BlackSky with its meritocracy and social advancement had the imperial Family. I was a prime example of how an orphan could, through her own efforts and a bit of patronage, climb to the upper ranks of nobility.

The problem came if a daughter of the Imperatrix, First Citizen, High Lady, Dictatrix, Queen, or whatever the ruler was called wanted... more. Most would go on to attempt to create their own House.

Such as First Citizen RedStorm splitting from Imperatrix BlackSky, or Dictatrix Ziox from Grand Admiral Trosier. Others... would simply try to take out their mother.

"That's why these 'irregulars' have a mix of Luxon and Alecto equipment?" I asked before reminding VioletBlood to keep mixing up her formation. Formation flying was good to ensure proper coverage and mutual support, but our relative positions had to be fluid, if they got too static and fixed then we became that much easier to target.

Quirinus gave a bitter laugh. "Oh it depends on how deniable their patrons were. And which daughter was the one who couldn't organize a revolution."

"Was it even just one?" I murmured. I could imagine the higher ups in Vualian society being unhappy. The Luxon occupation had been a massive drain on their resources. I checked the map and my scrying intake. So much had been wasted here.

And a Minor House could ill afford the loss of this much military hardware, economic capability, and demonic lives.

"My, someone's curious about the cultural and political implications," Quirinus teased. "Well, you are a very thorough one."

Shuddering, I nearly fell out of formation. I almost talked myself into volunteering for the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance. "Just learning a bit more."

"As you saw; we're nearly there." Quirinus paused. "I'm sure you're comfortable doing forward spotting."

"I'm not that low on munitions," I protested. I did not disagree with her. But I wanted to show I was gung ho for Frontline work, especially after my earlier slipup.

"Diamond," Quirinus's tone was warning.

'"Yes, Ma'am, understood." I then informed VioletBlood and took her to near the leading edge of our squadron's formation.

We were close enough that I could coordinate with GreyDawn and Octavia. "Okay ladies, stay sharp." I said over the Flight channel. "I know you've done a good mission and are eager to see the end of it and get back on the Garuda for a meal and some rack time, but that's when we make sloppy mistakes."

"Understood," GreyDawn said, sounding approving.

"Yes, Ma'am" Octavia echoed, her voice was a bit distant.

"Did either of you need any Pep?" I asked. The Legions had a variety of stay-awake compounds. They were more refined and had less risk than the pharmacology stimulants the Empire used, but they were still not something to use incautiously.

On the other hand, drowsy pilots were dead pilots.

"I took a low-dose when we passed the first barricade and had Octavia take one when the survivors made it to the lumber camp," GreyDawn said.

"Good. You both had something to eat?" I asked as VioletBlood and I added our scrying systems to the scouting patrol over the downed survivors. I noted that the rest of our squadron fell into a response formation in case the enemy came up and was positioning to help secure an air corridor and Landing Zone.

Octavia groaned, while GreyDawn said they both had some broth.

"I know it's not the best meal, but it's what our suits can make. It'll get some nutrition and energy in you, and cut the edges of those Pep doses. Right, VioletBlood?" I asked while checking on my Zephyr, they had a bit of a shake tonight but seemed to be back in fine form.

"Oh yeah, I drank mine. Didn't have any stims, seeing you get fried by that wizard got me wide awake."

"Wizard?" GreyDawn's tone seemed resigned.

"Fried?" Octavia was more awed.

"Never-mind, that enemy column had a spellslinger backing them up. I'll lay it out on the debriefing," I promised.

"Spatha Two survivors, this is Diamond Flight," I said, switching to Ventus Centurion Opal's channel.

"It's good to hear you, again," Opal said.

"Status?" I asked.

"Fine now. Karena's been hopping around trying to get our wounded settled and Evadne was helpful with her wards."

I wondered if she was making a comment about their medico's leg injury.

"It shouldn't be long now," I assured. If things got bad enough Quirinus had enough in her squadron to simply have half of us pick up half the survivors and fly to an airship while the other half ran escort.

Still, getting a Spatha would be the better option. It would free up Quirinus's whole squadron to run escort. The wounded would be more stable and Karena the medico could work on them. We just had to wait for a VTOL to become available.

"Diamond Flight, this is Spatha 1," a voice drawled over the command channel.

"This is Diamond; go Spatha 1," I said, with a bit of trepidation. This was one of Opal's fellow pilots from the HFV Syracuse. I wondered if she was upset with my performance. VTOL Pilots, Ventus Centurions, had a professional rivalry with RP Pilots, Volantes Centurions.

Ritual Plate were seen, by some in the public at large, as the more glamorous and elite. Where VTOLs were considered workhorses. We brought the fight to the enemy while the VTOLs moved all the troops, the cargo, the vehicles, and did all the real work. The Hasta Torpedo Bomber was another wrinkle in all that, as it was the only BlackSkyvian aircraft that was primarily an offensive platform.

The rivalry was professional, and no sharper than the service rivalry between the Household Fleet and the Imperial Legions. But still, when an RP Pilot went down, often as not it was a team on a Spatha Light that was sent in to pick her up. Under RP support of course.

"I just wanted to thank you for getting Opal and the others out," the voice said as I continued to check for enemy movement.

I blinked. The irregulars, or maybe rebels, were now moving to the south east, bypassing our Landing Zone but seemingly more worried about the Luxon Janissary brigade.

"You're welcome?" I tried to think. Humility seemed best. "I'm sorry that we couldn't get everyone. And all my Flight did was help move them, Opal and the others did all the work."

"Everyone who was alive when you arrived is alive now, you got them to me Diamond, and I just want to assure you that even though I'm taking them the last leg of the journey it was all your Flight."

I frowned, the dance of refusal of compliments was familiar to me and it could spiral out of control.

"That's nice and all but we have work tonight, ladies," Quirinus' voice cut in. "Spatha 1, I'm coordinating with your escort Flights. You are clear for Landing Zone Five."

I'll admit my stomach clenched as we kept a vigil over the little VTOL when it landed by the lumber camp and took on the survivors. That worry did not pass when the Spatha was once again in the air.

I know my concerns were absurd but... I was worried.

I was worried that if this Spatha were shot down then my Flight would once again be ordered for the rescue mission.

But that was absurd; we were too low on munitions and power.

My relief was irrational but still there when I saw Spatha 1 slip through the open landing doors on the aft centerline of the HVF Garuda. The pilot was good. Flying directly behind an airship, dealing with all those wake vortices and turbulence. Coming between the ventral tail fins with enough relative velocity difference and relative position control to slip through the yawing aft doors without pushing through the crash barriers was a skillful act.

Even on a calm night like tonight.

Ventus Centurions may not have the speed or the high performance but they were still precision fliers, despite far heavier air frames that needed to work with Zephyr who were in propulsion pods yards away from them instead of hanging around their wings.

Spatha One was sent to the Garuda for a simple reason: it was the largest vessel in our little Task Force, twice the size of any other, and thus had the most expansive medical facilities.

"Diamond Flight, you're first back on the ship," Quirinus ordered.

"Understood," I would have protested, if only to show my keenness, but our power levels were getting to the zone in which it would be imprudent to not swap out our fuel cells.

I switched to the Flight Ops channel and went specifically to my assigned ship. "Garuda Flight Control, this is Diamond Flight."

"Go Diamond Flight," came the calm, almost reassuring, voice of a Fleet Flight Controller. One wanted a steady voice when you were a pilot, of either type, trying to land onto an airship that was floating in the sky.

"Requesting landing for four Ritual Plate."

"Confirm Diamond Flight." the voice paused. "You are clear for starboard Ritual Plate landing approach."

Based on the Virtus Medium twin-hulled design, the Garuda was a Phoenician class Long Range Insertion Troopship. Like others of its hull design, the class had several access points for landing and launching.

In the bow were two catapults for launching Ritual Plate Pilots. In the very aft of the embarkation deck that linked both lifting hulls, was a centerline landing bay for VTOLs. A bit forward amidships, on the port and starboard were inclined launch bays for VTOLs to exit under their own power. There was a massive ventral opening in the embarkation deck that worked as a big open well deck large enough to accommodate Heavy VTOLs or a Venture Scout airship.

And forward of that were a pair of flared tunnels that worked as landing ramps for Ritual Plate Pilots.

A pilot could slow down and match the airship's speed and go into an open hatch and land on the deck. And functionally that's what the landing ramps were. They were simply more convenient and skirted the forward sides of the embarkation deck.

The landing ramps gave enough length that a pilot could slow down to match velocity without having to do a crash deceleration, and if she failed to stop then the far end of the tunnel was open so the pilot could continue flying and come around again.

Though such misses were rare, save in rough weather or other extreme conditions. They also worked as another way to deploy pilots. Yet without the initial speed a catapult imparted, they were very much a supplemental or backup procedure.

But unlike the launch tunnels with their catapults, the landing ramps had little weight cost.

Making contact with the squadrons doing combat air patrol on our little Task Force, I had my Flight form up to the starboard of the Garuda.

"Diamond Four, you are clear to land," Flight Control said as the lights to the landing tunnel flashed green. One of the main roles of Flight Control was to make sure various takeoffs and landings did not cause collisions. Ostensibly, the approach angles were made to provide clearance, but caution was prudent especially with various VTOLs and Ritual Plates in the air.

In some ways Garuda's Flight Control had a simpler task. It carried a third of the Ritual Plate of a Mellona Medium carrier, at two Squadrons instead of six. However it had to deal with carrying four Umbra Mediums.

Octavia angled her vector and flew towards the double-hulled airship, came in on an oblique angle and, already decelerating, went through the wider opening flare of the landing tunnel. The landing lights went amber as she entered and came to a stop.

Once she was clear and out of the tunnel, Flight Control called in GreyDawn to repeat the process and again with VioletBlood.

Finally, it was my turn. The data from Flight Control overlaid my display and I could see a slightly angled cone expanding out of the mouth of the landing tunnel. There were also velocity notations.

I adjusted my position and vector to match the centerline of the navigation cone. The landing aides were not required, a pilot was expected to be able to land without them but that was for emergencies.

Landing went much faster, and with far greater safety, with the route marked out. The Garuda rapidly went from a large airship ahead of me and to the right, to something that dominated my vision in front of me, to just a big dark wall that loomed up out of the night sky and which was about the same color thanks to the airship's camouflage.

Instead of focusing on the big curved wall that dominated my peripheral vision, I put my attention on the navigation display and a grid of lights. The middle vertical and horizontal row were orange and stayed lit.

A three by three box of blue lights was somewhere on the light grid. Where that blue square was indicated where a pilot was relative to her landing trajectory. The ideal was to get the blue box centered where the orange lines crossed.

The borders of the grid could also change color: red was wave-off, purple was too fast, green was correct speed, and yellow was too slow.

The system had its faults, but worked as a supplement and backup in case the navigation uplink failed. And when one was in a suit of flight armor and flying into an airship making sure one did not hit the side of said airship was very prudent.

I made sure to keep the blue square centered and the border in the green. That required a steady reduction in velocity. Though I was still going at a reasonable clip when I was swallowed by the sides of the tunnel.

From my perceptive, the landing tunnel quickly became narrower as the sides came in, the floor rose up, and the ceiling came down. My concentration was on staying in the center of the tunnel as I had my Zephyr flare to reduce my speed.

The floor, walls, and ceiling of the tunnel were painted in black bands repeating every seven feet or so. Though after a point, they changed color from black to red. If they got to red and the pilot had not stopped yet, that was a sign for her to up her speed and fly out the tunnel to try again.

My relative speed went to zero well in the black bands and my boots fell onto the deck with a clunk. I exhaled and tried to get my balance. For a moment it still felt like I was flying.

One of the flight officers came out from a door in the side alcove and offered an arm. Without much pride I took her hand. It was better to get out of the tunnel as quickly as possible, to keep it clear and ready.

After a moment, I would regain my airship legs.

My stride became more sure after a few paces, which meant I could walk on my own feet and not have to have my hand held by the much taller officer. I went through a hatch and down a corridor. The rest of my Flight was not far ahead of me. They too walked with the oddly floating, but ponderous, movements that came with a grounded Ritual Plate suit.

Soon, we were in the maintenance bay, and I heavily sat down in my arming chair. Connections and probes were clipped and plugged into my armor as my Ritualista swarmed over me. I lifted my facemask and nodded to my maintenance chief.

"Been a long night," Optio Gibbs noted as she scrolled through the glass diagnostic display she held.

I sighed. I had just gotten off a routine patrol flight before we had been given the order to support landing operations.

"Might not be over. I want my Flight refueled and rearmed. Do what maintenance you need to but I expect to be on Ready Standby."

"Yes, Ma'am," she nodded as one of her team undid the side latches to my helmet while another disconnected my Gorgon Rig. The disabled helmet was then pulled off.

I rolled my neck and breathed the metal and incense-tinged air of the maintenance bay. The burners to all the censers were flameless which mitigated the fire hazard. They were also bolted in place and kept clear of the various welding equipment, cutting torches, fuel cells, munitions, inflammable bottles, and even caustic chemicals for etching work. And given the ritual in Ritual Plate and that spirits of air were the critical component such offerings had their place.

The Ritual Plate maintenance bay had some major fire suppression tools and training. On par with the VTOL hangar, the main power plants, the Teleport Rune navigation and energizing chamber, it was one of the more at risk areas of fire on an airship.

I looked over and saw VioletBlood had managed to get a large sausage and a sourdough bun and was chewing thoughtfully.

I was about to ask where she got that when a slight figure, made somewhat more imposing by her armor, stepped over to me. Primus Wencesla was several times my age but was only slightly taller than I was.

She was carrying a metal basket, well more of a bucket, that was full of steaming loaves of bread and cool dry sausages. I noted Octavia was already slowly eating while GreyDawn was miming their earlier actions, using a bun and a sausage to mock dogfight and say disparaging things about the enemy. Octavia laughed.

Good, I would have given Wencesla a private word if she had fed me and Violet first and not the rest of my Flight. Nobility were not supposed to get favoritism in the Imperial Legion, at least not obviously.

I thanked her and took the food while one of my Ritualista gave me a canteen. "I heard you and the rest of RavenSnow's girls had a night," I asked after tearing into the bun. Oh there was a bit of melted butter inside and some honey drizzled on top. Behold civilization.

She nodded. "Busy, yeah. Casualties were.. well, are they ever light? Bekka was recovered, her suit will need a bunch of time to recover." Bekka SableTail was her wingwoman.

"I kept mine together," I said a bit quietly. I did not want to brag. I knew that the rest of my squadron had taken two casualties. I was not sure if they were wounded or dead. The truth was that a Flight, even a Squadron, was a small enough unit that every loss was acutely felt.

"Don't you get survivor guilt on me, Countess," Wencesla's tone was mocking, but her tail was loosely swishing and she seemed to be being comradely .

"I'm not," I guzzled down some water. I could not tell her that I had written plenty of condolence letters to the families of troops under my command. It was a part of war. That was what war did, it spent lives. Though the 203rd and Salamander had an impressively low casualty rate.

Wencesla tilted her head, her green eyes seeming to look through me. "Huh. Anyway… From what I heard you got Spatha 2's survivors out while the rest of us were dealing with the shitshow, even blunted an enemy column."

"You heard a lot of things." I chewed the dried sausage. It would have been better sliced up, maybe put into a stew, or at least with cheese, but was a quick and easy meal. And any time to eat Household Fleet food instead of field rations was a good thing.

She shrugged.

"How are you doing? One Primus Flight Leader to another?" I asked. Networking with your peers was always good.

"I'm waiting until I can get cleared to take off this suit, then find out when my next rest period is and range for some recreation with a convenient and available Decanus looking to make this mess go away for a few blissful moments," she said, her tail flicking about.

The short woman blinked and coughed. "Um that is..."

"I'm underage; I'm not ignorant. And as long as you're not breaking the fraternization rules, it's not my concern. You are a professional and I know Prefect RavenSnow runs a tight squadron." I shook my head. Crazy demons. Though in this they were not that different from humans. Young soldiers were always ruled by such things, especially when their own mortality was shoved into their faces.

The Fleet and Legions were sensible enough to realize that banning venial sins would only cause problems, especially given so many young demons grouped together. It was better to provide a controlled place to indulge in things like drink, gambling, and… other forms of recreation.

Depending on what was used to make the brew, an illicit still could be a health hazard. And even if the product was pure, it was a fire hazard. Underground gambling was less of a risk but could still produce debt and predatory lending. Transparency was intended to lessen such risks, which was how I knew GreyDawn was someone I would have to be careful with if I ever had to bluff her.

"Right." Wencesla shook her head. She looked behind me to the aft end of the maintenance bay and smiled. "Well, I've got to see if anyone needs any food; you have fun with your visitors!"

"What?" I asked, but she was already off and distributing food to any pilots and Ritualista who wanted it. Which, Legionaries and sailors being who they were, meant her bucket quickly went empty.

I twisted my neck to see two people coming up towards me. Both were pretty beat-up with their armor covered in dust, grime, and blood. One had relatively light armor over a flight suit that had harness points and connections. That made her a VTOL pilot. Her short white hair was a mess from the helmet that was somewhere else. Her wings were a dark grey with white accents and a matching thin long tail swished behind her as she walked up.

Next to her was a remarkably well-presented woman in dark casual business-wear: bodice, skirt, jacket, under a set of legionary lorica armor. With magenta skin, her bangs were evenly cut and her hair was pulled back in an efficient, neat orange ponytail. She wore slim gold-framed glasses and a cigar of all things was tucked behind one pointed ear.

Both were eating pita wraps that had been put into foil cones to keep from dripping.

"Venus Centurion Opal, Librarian Evadne." Instead of saluting, I bowed my horns to them to show my intention to have this be an informal event. "It's wonderful to see you up here. How are the others doing? I know Medico Kaena made sure herself and the two other wounded were stable."

"She did, and they're with the doctors now," Evadne said, she gave a cautious optimism but there seemed to be more behind those glasses.

But she was right. With our healing abilities and regeneration, if a Legionary could make it that far then they had excellent odds of making a full recovery. Physically that is.

The key job of our Medicos, of any medic really, was to do triage. Then those who could be kept alive were kept alive until they could be ferried back up to an airship or some other key facility. It was a fact that the majority of the Household Fleet and Imperial Legion's missio causaria, honorable medical discharges, were due to non-physical wounds. There were programs and counseling to help with Trauma Accumulation but for some situations a discharge was the kindest option.

Meanwhile Opal seemed to be surprised. The VTOL pilot tilted her head and looked me over. "Oh... So you are that young noble... wait... I did hear something... about a young noble who earned her Ace status against a Ziox War Mistress and an entire squadron?" She glanced to the Librarian for confirmation.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of cinema? Don't read many broadsheets?" the Librarian asked as my Ritualista busied themselves with checking my suit's status. Gibbs, my crew chief, seemed amused.

"Mostly just the gladiatorial sections," Opal shrugged as she and the Librarian moved to stand in front of me, to make it easier on my neck.

"Well," Evadne gave a bright smile. "This is Primus Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust."

"It was not a Squadron: two Flights, not Three," I corrected, taking an angry bite of the sausage.

Opal absently bowed her head. "Still, I wanted to come up and thank you all," she looked around and waved to the rest of my Flight.

"We're all on the same team," I agreed. I would have preferred a less risky team-building exercise but esprit de corps was vital. And in that light I asked about something related to her specialty. "Did you see if the Umbra Mediums had taken up the hoof-sloggers? I heard we were pulling out of the Resort Landing Zones."

Opal nodded. "Looks like they went all in and have a Squadron's worth pulling up the two Centuries and their heavy equipment, such as it is."

"Yes, our brave women are doubtless getting out, enjoying being in the air again, stowing their kit, and then going onto to whatever places to engage in some sort of minor soothing vices," the librarian absently tapped her cigar.

I had some curiosity as to what information or mission a Palace Librarian had that would justify her presence here and require pulling out in such a manner. I wondered if it had to do with CSR's reconnaissance of Ortov and the areas around the city, or maybe to do with the ceasefire talks, or perhaps the coup that was behind all these "irregulars" scrambling about when their plot to overthrow Queen Vualia exploded in their faces.

I was curious but my curiosity did not exceed my desire to avoid further entanglements. I could see from the Librarian's little smile that she was gauging my reaction.

I shrugged. "The smoking lounge is up one deck, aft two frames and on the starboard."

Librarian Evadne laughed. "Why, thank you Countess."

"I'll show you the way," Opal said. "It's not far from the wardroom, I'm going up there to have some brandy myself. I know the stewards often keep a bottle stashed in reserve."

"Oh, I must confess I got a taste for fleet gin in my younger days," Evadne said as they walked off.

Optio Gibbs stepped back to me. "Smarter than you look, Primus," she murmured in a bare whisper only I could hear.

I raised an eyebrow at her as my tail curled up. I could respect a non-com giving quiet advice to her superior. "Oh?"

"Most young nobles would jump at the chance of getting in good with the Palace Librarians." My crew chief's eyes darted to VioletBlood who was chatting with Octavia.

"Give me some credit, Optio. I know that's more trouble than it's worth."

"Well said, Ma'am," Gibbs replied as she started checking my environmental and navigational systems.

++++++


Listening to a warning coming over the Primary Circuit to make the ship ready, I stood at the forward observation deck of the HFV Garuda. I wore a set of my dress blacks with the Preserver Order pinned at my neck. A mug of coffee was in my hand as I looked out at the formation in front of me.

Out here, with just the sea and the sky, the collection of airships looked almost peaceful. With no references to compare their motions against, the airframes looked graceful instead of lumbering.

Task Force 402 was also flying closer than normal. Not the “close enough that the airships were going to crash into each other” that popular media portrayed Fleet actions as, but closer than an ideal based on proper ranges for mutual support and scouting.

"You handled the service well enough," GreyDawn said, sipping her own coffee. Her amber eyes looked me over. She was by far the most experienced member of my Flight. Not that that was saying much.

"I just said a few words. It was the chaplains and the Squadron commanders and group trooper commanders who said the most."

"Sure, but that was all the standard patter. We all know what a Volantes Prefect Centurion says when she loses members of her squadron," GreyDawn looked at her black coffee. "I'm not saying they lack sincerity, but we've heard it all before."

"Including Octavia?"

GreyDawn's tail swished. "Ma'am, she has lost squadron mates before."

"I know that, it's just... I see her as the most inexperienced. The green member of the Flight." I looked at the orange and red-haired woman.

GreyDawn chuckled.

"My age isn't an issue for you, is it?" I held up a hand. "I'm not accusing; you can speak freely. My situation is unusual, I want to make sure it does not become a problem."

The Centurion took a long drink and pondered. "You've got real potential, Countess. I'll be honest; I expected you to be a bit more like your wing-woman, the baroness."

I glanced back at the hatch into the compartment. "VioletBlood is exuberant."

"She's the more typical kind of noble cadets I've seen as new Ritual Plate Pilots. Eager like a puppy, tail wagging about. Might have started to sink in for her when she was at the service and sipped from the chalice before saying her goodbyes."

One of the Household Fleet chaplains was a member of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady. And given I had a small speaking role in the service and was a known member of the Church of DarkStar I ended up volunteering to hold the chalice when the ashes and holy water were mixed together.

There were other devotional ceremonies as part of the service. House BlackSky was remarkably pluralistic. Perhaps even faddish when it came to taking in a plethora of faiths. Then again who was I to talk? One of my mothers was a nun who venerated a granddaughter of our Imperatrix who died over a millennia ago.

Everyone of the faith had taken a sip and then had a quiet contemplative moment.

The service was taken at the front end of the well deck. About three hundred feet long by ninety feet wide, the giant ventral opening at the bottom of the airship was a place for transporting oversized cargos, a docking bay for Venture scout airships and heavy VTOLs, and had a set of overhead cranes that could move more conventional cargo.

Provided the conditions were safe enough for an airship to approach the ground.

It also gave a rather striking venue: rows of seating faced two columns of fluttering House BlackSky Banners. They seemed to hang in the sky and far below them was the waters of the Guardia Sea.

The wreaths that went over the railing seemed to fall forever before vanishing from sight. Fortunately, the battle did not yield too many fatalities, and only a subset of those had their bodies recovered.

There was the lost from Spatha Two and an unlucky RP Pilot from the Light Damocles carrier Syracuse. A Hathor anti aircraft gun managed to take out her wards and rumor has it fire from a Horus artillery piece just happened to intersect with her flight. It was a one in a million shot, I doubted the artillery crew even knew their big arcane cannon hit someone.

I knew for a fact that in war acts of the most horrific bad luck could happen. Even to people who weren't the plaything of cosmic entities like Being X. Needless to say, there was nothing left to bury of that Fleet flier.

Furthermore, the majority of the remainder were having their bodies shipped back home to Bovitar with us. That did leave two members of Imperatrix BlackSky's Imperial Legions who were... well technically they were being buried at sea.

Part of the job of the Ritual Plate squadrons doing defensive air patrol was to keep an eye on threats from the ground, or sea. Earlier today, part of their job was to make sure there were no nearby ships. To ensure that nothing... jettisoned during the ceremony ended up being an inadvertent projectile.

"Two nights ago was the first time she had even a fleeting crossing with mortality," I noted as I stared out onto the sea below us. The days since the Battle of Ortov, well skirmish, had Task Force 402 nearly exclusively doing air operations, mostly Scouting at that.

Luxon was also making noises that their occupation of Ortov was temporary and there were some proof as to that; while they did conduct operations in the city they had been targeted and their forward base remained to the northern side.

The latter was sensible enough given terrain, resources, and time. But there were indications that Luxon was not willing to invest, at the moment, in gobbling up another city. At least one that was so far from the current border of the Occupation Zone.

"Fleeting, that's about right," GreyDawn noted. "Tell me, did she make Ace?"

I shrugged. I had been through a debriefing with Quirinus, RavenSnow and the other Flight Leaders yesterday so I knew the answer to that. "Is it really all that important?"

GreyDawn gave an approving nod. "For some it is, Countess."

"It's only five air-to-air kills."

Snorting, she shook her head. "Some of us don't manage to get that with a sword." She sobered. "But that reputation, all the propaganda… It can have an effect, especially on a young former cadet who wants to prove herself to her lost and noble parents."

"I know VioletBlood's tendencies; I'm keeping her grounded."

GreyDawn gave me a weary expression that made me realize just how much older she was than she truly looked. Gauging age could be tricky for our kind. There were some tells around the eyes and a certain poise and certain experience that came across in an emotional reservation.

"I really appreciate your work in mentoring Octavia and helping with VioletBlood." I tapped my mug. "And, well, dealing with two nobles."

GreyDawn shook her head. She tried to not loom over me, but the height difference was hard to ignore. "Could be worse. At least with just two of you I don't have to worry about intrigue and squabbling power plays."

My first instinct was to downplay it. My second was to agree with her. As Great Houses went, House BlackSky's nobility could have been a lot worse. Instead, I shook my head. "I wonder if Ortov was the result of a squabbling power play."

GreyDawn was pensive. "We were on the edges. That daughter princess..." She paused.

"Ursula"

"Right, her. She was a provincial governor right on the western part of the border of the occupation zone. A frontline position, a trusted position." GreyDawn sighed.

"A position where she could try to build forces and court allies."

"Not enough," the older centurion's wings twitched. "I wonder if she thought too much about the amount of Alecto and Luxon 'surplus' she was getting."

I shrugged. "Those Alecton Marines were quite helpful in finding Princess Ursula and directing Queen Vualia straight to her. Not to mention the help Task Force 403, specifically their Infantry Cohort and their Torpedo bombers, had in taking out the eastern flank of Ursula's forces."

I stared out at the sky and water. Even though she ruled a Minor House, Queen Vualia was still a powerful elder demoness. Her problem was that one's personal power mattered less and less once your domain reached a certain size.

Yes being an elder demoness of vast arcane capabilities and experience made for a combatant that was functionally a strategic asset, but there was only one of you.

Having daughters, or other close allies, helped but they were also a limited resource. And as Ursula showed, one that could turn on you. To get real power a House needed robust institutions, military professionalism, strong logistics, and an economy capable of supporting those structures.

"I suppose your Librarian friend could answer those questions."

I shot GreyDawn a look.

Her amber eyes turned away. "I wouldn't dig too deeply into what she's up to. But I'm just a line pilot."

I exhaled. "But I'm a Flight leader?"

GreyDawn snorted. "Ma'am, we know there's more than that."

I put down a tiny bit of ire. This was a private moment and she was not being directly disrespectful, and I wanted to encourage advice from experienced people. Yes there was a fleet officer working a scrying station helping with air traffic monitoring, but she was on the other side of the compartment and engrossed in her work.

"Go on."

"You're still a couple months shy of your thirteenth birthday and you're already a Flight Leader. You're a countess. And unlike our VioletBlood you achieved yours from merit."

"My duchess gave it to me when she adopted me."

"Due to your efforts and with the endorsement of the imperial Family. Primus, we both know you won't be satisfied with staying a Flight Leader for what... nineteen years? Eighteen? However much you have left. Assuming you don't sign up for another term."

I had to give a slight nod at that.

"And if I were a betting woman-"

"Which you are," I lightly noted. GreyDawn was a fair dice player, among other games. A skill that involved reading the other player more than any luck.

"True, though I'm sure no one would take a wager on whether or not you'll end up in Squadron Command. It's well known how you finished your cadet training."

I exhaled. Being in charge of three Flights was not too onerous. "But Wing command?"

GreyDawn's wings shrugged.

"Tell me, are there wagers on if I'll make Volantes Tribune?"

"I would not be surprised if there were, but I can't say for certain."

I gave a tiny smile. "And such a wager would be a long-term one. Not exactly appealing action for bored Legionaries and Fleet crew looking for some coin to change hands."

"I would not argue with that assessment."

"And in light of this, you think I should have asked the Librarian for more information?"

"I can't say, that's above my pay grade."

"But it might not be above mine. At least in the future." I sighed.

"Ma'am," she stated in that tone of an experienced non-com agreeing with plausible deniability.

"Keep this up and I'll put you in for more commendations. Quirinus knows me; if I emphasize you and Octavia having the most critical role in the rescue of Spatha Two she'd be happy to go along with it."

"Ma'am?"

I smiled, showing my fangs. "Technically Librarian Evadne was in the warzone as a civilian. Therefore you, and Octavia, can qualify for a Preserver award. Now, I won't be so crass to try to put you in for a Crown grade award. However, I do have a bit of pull with those who decide when a Preserver award should be given." I tapped the gem at my throat.

GreyDawn shook her head ruefully. "I probably shouldn't get in the way of Octavia getting some rewards.'

"Do you think she needs it?"

"Needs? No. But she's still at the age where she'll appreciate it on a sentimental level."

"My, you are a cynical one." I might have had my tail swish at that remark.

GreyDawn gave a mock salute with her cup and then took a drink.

It was obvious that Quirinus had put GreyDawn into my Flight as a minder. Which I did not take as an insult given Quirinus had been my cadet instructor and specifically asked for me for Flight command in the squadron she had been given when she returned to a combat billet.

Doubtless, she wanted to keep an eye on me and to make use of my talents. I did not begrudge her for that. Prefect Quirinus had spent roughly a year instructing me, if she could get some return on that effort she was entitled to it.

I suppose I was content with this arrangement largely because I approved of her as a Squadron Commander. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement of such sensibility that I was certain strings had been pulled with my assignment.

After the events prior to my twelfth birthday I had come under considerable attention and had gotten plenty of... patrons.

I looked at the formation of airships. It seemed a bit closer and the Ritual Plate formations were drawing in. Plus the fleet officer doing air traffic work was getting busier. It would not be long now.

And that was something I had objections with. Not the patronage exactly, but that it was used to put me into a combat assignment, one balanced to help me grow and learn. Not just as a Ritual Plate pilot, but as a commander.

My intention to enlist in the Imperial Legions early was to maximize the time I spent in training roles. But due to a bunch of well-meaning, but warmongering, officers instead of spending at least a couple more years in training, I was already commanding pilots in battle.

No wonder the gossipy scuttlebutt took it as a certainty that I would make Squadron Command.

There was a knock on the door. After a moment the hatch opened and VioletBlood stepped in. "I'm glad I'm not late!" she said carrying a bucket with some more rolls and a bit of cheese and a small cylindrical bottle of Fleet issue gin. Perhaps not ideal, but a fair example of scrounging.

"And Octavia?" I had tried to be painfully clear that she could be here if she wanted to. And this was not an "invitation".

"She's talking with the Baha'i Chaplain. There was a bit of a line."

"Understandable, she's a member of Vanis Reformed, correct?" I had the luck of being at the head of the line talking to the DarkStar Church Chaplain. And all I did with her was go with some of the prayers I learned at my mother Clementia's side while the chaplain blessed my earrings and locket.

I would have preferred to avoid the rigamarole but I was already there, and being reminded of one of my mothers was some comfort.

I would have to talk to Octavia again. In a way it was reassuring she was seeking some comfort and guidance. Not just from her faith but she had talked with myself and Quirinus. Her concerns were just that: concerns. Talking about combat was healthy.

Nothing that made me think I had to pull her off active duty. In a way, it was reassuring. She was still grappling with the ethics of war. Meanwhile, of the rest of my Flight GreyDawn was a cynical lifer who was inured to all this. And VioletBlood had come to us with a bottle of liquor to celebrate with. Which more than anything showed the bloodthirsty side of BlackSkyvian nobility.

VioletBlood shrugged. "I know she doesn't drink, but plenty of people are teetotalers for non-religious reasons."

I gave her a dry look. It was true that the Church of DarkStar only prohibited drunkenness. My official religion was not a reason why I did not drink.

"I mean you're still a bit..."

"My age is not a factor either," I stated.

VioletBlood looked down at the gin bottle with a frown.

And there it was; it was easy to talk in the abstract of letting a bit of venial sins slide, especially when under supervision. It was another to let a fourteen-year-old girl drink. Still, this way I could keep her under my eye. Besides, she had earned it.

"I will let you toast beforehand, but next time..." I gave a smirk. "I expect you to find something better than Household Fleet rotgut. Think of your pride."

VioletBlood pouted and looked to GreyDawn. "You are a legionary," my senior-most pilot noted.

"And a noble," I added.

"Fine, I'll get some pear schnapps in Bovitar and sign it into the Squadron's Liquor Stock."

I nodded while GreyDawn finished off her coffee.

I could not be certain but it looked like all the patrolling Ritual Plate had pulled into their mother airships. After about two hours of charging the teleport runes, Task Force 402 was at its most vulnerable.

At least all of our Venture Scouts had their own teleport systems. Engraving the runes in critical locations throughout an airship's structural frames was a considerable cost. Not to mention adding in the lines and arcane power systems to connect them as well as all the navigation controllers.

Many of the smallest airships were simply built without teleport capability. They were fast enough that in many ways it was more efficient to have them use conventional propulsion on Diyu. And if they needed to be moved offworld then they could dock into the ventral well deck of a larger airship.

This cost savings did limit their utility, but for airships that were intended to do local fleet screening an argument could be made for their utility. Especially given the vast numbers of Venture Scouts and Kolibri patrol craft in the Household fleet. When you had about fifteen hundred and a thousand ships respectively in those classes, cost savings were alluring.

The teleport system had its limitations. It required a long charge up before teleport, and a cooldown afterwards to let the arcane equivalent of waste heat bleed out of the runes. There was also a tradeoff between range and accuracy in destination.

One could teleport on the same plane, that is by more skipping than fully breaking through reality, but only up to a bit over four hundred miles with the upside that one had even odds of appearing within about five miles of your destination.

Meanwhile a teleport that fully broke out of a given plane had a much further range, literally to other worlds, realms, and planes, but you were lucky if you appeared within eight hundred miles of your destination. It also took far longer to charge the teleportation runes and had a longer cooldown time.

Having a beacon at your destination could dramatically reduce the inaccuracy of your emergence point. However... it was a beacon, and thus something the enemy would be well aware of and an easy location to track. Jammers could also interfere with the emergence point, though a Jamming ward large enough to deflect an entire region would be quite energy intensive.

Transiting between here and the moons of Lantia or Emuria was in between as it was a deeper "skip" that was between two concrete realities. And gave a rather good even odds of appearing within eighty miles of your intended destination.

Taking advantage of that quirk in the tradeoff between range and accuracy was why House BlackSky kept the Third Primus Fleet stationed at Lantia. House Andromache liked the tangible commitment one of their strongest allies had to their defense.

And House BlackSky liked having the ability to drop a full fleet with air power and Legion Landing Flotillas anywhere on Diyu and beyond at a moment's notice.

I admired the coup it gave us, and the strategic options and how it fit into our overall doctrine of power projection. But this was the exact kind of bellicosity that made the other Great Houses concerned about House BlackSky.

The shortest range teleport had some limitations that, given the range and mean time between teleports of about three hours, gave it a functional velocity of 140 miles per hour. Which was still 50% faster than the official fleet speed of the Household Fleet.

It would not be the first time I had served an Empire beset by enemies afraid of the sharpness of our sword.

The Primary Circuit came on via the overhead speaker. "Teleport Warning. Teleport Warning. All hands prepare for Teleport. Secure all equipment and safe all arcane systems," the cool voice said.

The fleet officer in the compartment called in to confirm her status and that of the compartment and the part of the sky she was monitoring.

I motioned for VioletBlood to open the bottle and pour a couple fingers into GreyDawn's mug, then a couple into her own.

I looked down at the last bit of coffee in mine.

We waited for a bit longer. A formation of Airships would typically synchronize their teleport navigation systems. That would allow them to arrive at their destination at roughly the same emergence point. Thus if we could not ensure an accurate Teleport, the Household Fleet could ensure a precise one.

The Primary Circuit came back on and started counting down. Everything started to get a low hum as the runes inlaid thought the Garuda started to become critical.

I lifted my mug and we all took a drink as the airship shivered and golden light overtook us before bleeding into a purple shadow that slowly faded.

We were over four hundred miles closer to home.

Unfortunately, since we were still over the Gaudia sea and out of sight of land, the view did not change very much.

GreyDawn had a bit of mirth at VioletBlood's tail-drooping disappointment. To be fair the baroness looked so forlorn, I let them both have another shot.


++++++

Tail flicking, I paced the concourse. I had managed to keep my composure throughout this plan: from the correspondence in the Journal on Air Combat, to arranging to get transferred to support Legion stationed in Eastern Province, to coming up with an excuse to my family as to why I was being transferred thousands of miles across the length of House BlackSky, to using the gossip back channels to find out when and where the Legionary components of Task Force 402 would be landing, and finally to arrange to be off duty when that happened.

Months and months of work had gone into this.

All to reunite with someone I last saw a lifetime ago.

Someone who terrified me.

I could just imagine her criticizing me for picking this moment to meet her, instead of waiting for her to get settled in and when our schedules lined up.

My tail and wings drooped as I looked around what was a glorified, if expansive and efficiently-built, waiting room. Beyond a set of doors to one wall was a set of landing pads, taxiways, and other accoutrements to allow for the landing, unloading, loading, and servicing of VTOLs.

The closer ones were built for Spatha and Umbra sized models. Further out were larger ones for Gladius and Pugio heavy VTOLs and a bit beyond those were yet bigger ones that could accommodate airships small ones, Kolibri patrol sized and smaller.

Picking up on my nervousness, some of the other Fleet and Legionaries gave knowing looks.

Which was hardly an unreasonable assumption, as wrong as it was.

I was not some lovelorn pilot waiting to reunite with her mate.

We had a role to play. I had been born ahead of her, before she was. Guilt flittered over me, was I supposed to have made things ready for her? Prepared things for her in some way?

I pushed that aside. I would have been four when she was born. And even the White Silver was over twice that age when she first went into battle and was nearly thrice that age the second time around.

I sat down on a wooden bench and composed myself.

In the time since I learned about her, I had pushed myself. I increased my skill and volunteered for more flight time and training missions. I was always a good flier but good would not be sufficient, not if I wanted to fly by Tanya's side.

I had studiously avoided looking out the windows whenever an Umbra or a Spatha landed. If I had, I knew I would stare helplessly as I looked over the disembarking passengers to see if I could spot her.

I'll admit my hope and tension rose each time the doors opened and a fresh crop of Fleet and Legionaries came through the doors. It was not just the HFV Garuda or the rest of Task Force 402 that was unloading personnel.

While not the largest base, Castra Bovitar was still a busy facility.

The doors slid open again and another group of people walked in.

Perking up, at a tingle to my horns, I scanned the crowd but while they were Ritual Plate Pilots none of them were here.

One in the front was about her height, but the reserved woman had green eyes and black horns and was far too old. She was also a Household Fleet Pilot.

My hope curdled, but the tension remained as I slumped back onto the bench.

Then the group of pilots parted.

And I saw her.

She was as I remembered. A prim uniform bearing select, high decorations. Slight and misleadingly delicate-looking with intense blue eyes and wild blonde hair, parts of which seemed to bob about as she talked. Even at this distance, she exuded a commanding presence.

Yet, there were changes.

I expected the obvious: curling white horns, feathered wings, and whipping spade-tipped tail. But seeing her flashing her fangs in an only mostly guarded smile with the young woman next to her was surprising.

Maybe a year older than her, the other pilot was in her early teens. She had crisp aristocratic features and pale skin that had a hint of periwinkle. Her fine dark red hair was in drill-like curls, and while she did not bear as many decorations she still walked with a casually bloodthirsty confidence. She made pushing a luggage cart laden with duffle bags seem like a task to be taken with the utmost respect

Tail still, I found that I had gotten up and was already walking towards them. Towards Her. My focus was on the young imperious, lethal little noble officer with blonde hair; the one I knew.

I knew I was plain, especially in coloration with just brown hair and alabaster skin. My wings and horns were nothing too exotic either. I was older than them, but even my figure was rather typical.

Tanya swiveled her head and the tingling in my horns grew as those blue eyes looked up at mine.

Blinking, her tail flicked and swished.

I could imagine her brilliant logical mind taking in every detail and inexorably coming to a conclusion. Getting even closer, I flexed my hands. This was the part I could not plan for.

"Apologies I'm bad with names..." She looked onto my uniform to confirm rank and specialization. "Volantes Centurion, I'm sure we've met, maybe at a training exercise or a lecture?"

"Or the ballet?" her companion said with careful high-class enunciation to her Silvan Latin. Her lime colored eyes sized me up.

"Yes, perhaps."

I swallowed and bowed my horns. "I'm Centurion Victorious Shadow, recently transferred from Opalescence Bay. We've had some correspondence in the Journal on Air Combat, but I was not using my full name in those letters."

I could feel her reserve locking down as her blue eyes darted to the other pilot. "You had some fascinating ideas." She gave a smile. "We must catch up then. You know myself so I think we can skip full introductions."

The other pilot's tail flicked and she gave a disapproving look.

"Fine." There was a sigh. "I am Primus Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust, and my companion, and stickler for protocol, is Volantes Centurion Baroness VioletBlood."

"Charmed," I bowed my horns to the little baroness.

"Now, Baroness," Tauria gave a smile. "Can you give me a moment so I can catch up with an old friend?"

The baroness eyed me but her stance became meek when Tauria's attention turned towards her. She saluted and pushed the cart away, her tail low; its tip twitching.

"Crazy demons," Tauria quietly murmured as she directed me to the side of the concourse.

The waiting room for travelers had a fair-size commissary so that Fleet and Legionaries could pick up various small items to supplement their kit just before boarding their airships.

There was also something vaguely similar to a Commonwealth pub, or a Low Provinces beer cafe. Despite being part of a military base, there was some attempt to add a homey feel. It helped that much of the furniture here was wooden and even a whitewashed vaulted ceiling helped give a good atmosphere. The style here was a blend of Alecton and Condani

Condanium was a city in the northwest of House BlackSky's mainland holdings. Near the border with Elena and positioned where a river emptied into a massive bay, it was a port city. Unsurprisingly, there turned out to be a fair degree of fish on the menu.

We seated ourselves with Tauria practically perched on the fairly high booth we sat in. Hair bobbing, she looked over the menu with a frown. I knew she was not a fan of things that were fried and greasy.

"We can um... go somewhere with lighter fare?" I offered.

"That was clever of you," she noted, paging through the menu as she shifted her wings to try to get comfortable.

"I'm sorry?"

"Using an academic journal to sound me out. We exchanged several rounds of correspondence and I never..." She put the menu down. "I didn't even think you were here."

I put my hands up but... instead of reaching across I folded them in front of me on the table. "I don't know how it happened. After there was... well you could call it a dream. Maybe it had to do with that battle; the last one. Your last one."

Giving up on trying to position her wings, she let them fold down as if she was trying to minimize the giant collections of gleaming white feathers. "That's what he said... when he had others to take care of..." she quietly murmured.

"Tanya?"

"How... were..." she gathered herself. When challenged she had two ways of reaction: cold logic or intense violence. Or both. "What do you remember?"

"The Rhine. The 203rd. It becoming Salamander. Fjords and deserts. Operation Revolving Door. Singing after strafing the capital of the Russy Federation. Operation Götterdämmerung ," I shrugged. "What do you remember?"

She stared at me. "That was too grandiose of a name, and far too revealing of intention," she grumbled."

"Tanya?"

"Careful with that name. We can't all be as lucky to have the same nickname, Visha."

I smiled despite myself. "You remember then?"

She gave a little nod. "Weiss got you back home? Those that survived."

"Yeah, after that the war was..." I exhaled. "That's not important."

She gave me a critical look as a waitress with long white hair and deep blue wings slipped up to us. I ordered water and Tauria took a coffee.

The silence drew out as she looked into the cup and took a sip.

"I'm willing to entertain that you are who you say you are."

"Good?" I sipped the water. At least she was not in her Ritual Plate. That was... some comfort.

"I would prefer not to report you as a spy, or as a madwoman. The paperwork and questions it would ask would be burdensome," she said with utterly frank seriousness.

I blinked then, despite the tension, laughed. That, more than her making Ace before her twelfth birthday, was strong evidence she was who I thought she was.

I ran a finger over the rim of the cup. "So... um... we did win right?"

"The war? How would I know that?"

"No, not that. You know how it would have gone…" I kept the ire out of my voice. It was not at her anyway; she had known from the start that we would not win against the world. It was not fair. It started with us being invaded on multiple fronts but, as Tanya would note, fairness had nothing to do with it. "I'm asking about your last fight. Our last fight."

Her trepidation vanished as she gave a toothy smile. "That was a success."

"Really?"

She reached out and patted my hand. "Our world, our past world, was freed of a great evil. You could say we took out the trash and got rewarded for it."

I looked at her little hand on mine. I could feel her sincerity, her satisfaction.

"Someone talked to you... after you died?"

She gave a little smile.

I squeezed her hand.

Tauria looked down. "We have to be careful, Visha."

"We do?"

She lowered her voice. "If it gets out that we were reincarnated, certain parts of the Imperial government would be interested in us. Do you want to be poked and prodded? Best case they confirm our stories and we have to be tested and examined, worst case they can't find any magical signature or whatever and we get declared mad and drummed out of the Legions."

"It wouldn't be that bad," I protested.

She waved me off

"But we're both here for a reason."

"I agree." She looked me over. "I'm still getting over the shock."

"Yes, you're quite rattled," I dryly noted. I knew her coping mechanisms. She would be making theories, building contingencies.

Still holding my hand, Tauria sipped her coffee. "You sought me out. Amber Island is thousands of miles away. And, from the dates we started corresponding, you started it not long after I fought the War Mistress. I suppose that propaganda push had some upside."

"Now what?"

She let go. "Well, we can let Baroness VioletBlood unpack and organize my kit and hers and sort my Flight's admin paperwork alone. That will give us some time before I have to get back to my wingwoman."

"And what will we do until then?" I asked, trying not to frown at that. I was once her wingwoman.

Tauria picked up the menu as if she could will it to produce an option suitable to her tastes. "You are right, we do have a lot of work to do. And no reason to not discuss things on an empty stomach."

End Chapter 9

There we go. Took longer than originally planned, but got the Battle of Ortov concluded and have Visha reunited. I plan to have ch10 open with Tauria's POV on Visha reappearing into her life and her thinking about how this influences her future plans and obligations.

Thank you so much for all of you who have read and commented.

And special thanks to especially to DCG, Ellf, Green Sea, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.