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

[Sunshine]

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Return Verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic thingy.
By Sunshine Temple

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

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

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku

Temple of Ranma's Sailor Senshi Seifuku • Index page

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 15: One with the Sea

After checking that I was not transmitting, I gave a sigh of frustration. House Trosier had fired a brace of submarine-launched missiles at an Alecton cruiser. They had also deployed roughly seventy Ritual Plate, about a light BlackSkyvian Wing.

From their disposition and numbers, it seemed that there were two Trosic Strike Escadron; each consisting of twenty-seven Baptiste strike RP and fifteen Rochefort air superiority models.

It was a robust formation focused on heavy strikes with reasonable escorts that could be split into sub-groups. House Trosier had sent one formation as a second barrage against that Howe class missile cruiser, while the other had been sent against the freighter we had been inspecting for contraband.

We had found all that and more, and House Trosier had decided to tie up a loose end. Personally, I found it excessive and a reckless escalation. People would die over the uncaring sea.

But Trosier had not asked my opinion. I had sent my Flight out ahead of the rest of the squadron to blunt their attack.

Inspecting the composite data on the map display that my Gorgon Rig and the various other scrying systems, I made a few range calculations and flashed my fangs.

We were outnumbered and our Polyxo suits were in Strike configuration which was not ideal for anti-air.

"Here's the target list and weapons selections," I said over the Flight channel. While Trosier had tolerable Veiling systems, their Ritual Plate were more easily detected. Multiple Gorgon Rigs on our side, something I would report as further evidence of the system's broader utility, and their decision to move at their maximum possible velocity essentially killed any hopes for stealth the Trosic Pilots might have harbored.

There was a brief pause as my Pilots took in the fire mission. "We're not targeting their Baptistes?" VioletBlood asked.

"Correct. Now is not the time to focus on their strike RP," I stated

"But our Lances outrange theirs," Visha replied. She was correct. The high power emitters on the Baptiste were not as far-ranged as the Telephe, or a strike-Polyxo. The Baptiste was also rather less maneuverable, but more robust for naval operations. Overall, it made a cheaper suit than the Telephe. One that could still hit hard and at long range but was more vulnerable to airborne threats. It did mean that a strike package was less expensive to field, but required dedicated escort.

"Exactly." GreyDawn chuckled. "There's still a fair bit of time before their strike suits get in range of that freighter."

"Meanwhile. we can fire on them while staying out of their range," I added.

"But... they won't accept that. They'll send their escorts to take us out and they outnumber us four to one," VioletBlood countered.

I laughed. "Hopefully, I doubt they'll leave their strike forces naked but..."

I could imagine Visha nodding along as I quickly switched to the Flight Leader channel to inform the other Flights and Prefect Quirinus of my plans. "The squadron commander of those Rocheforts may be tempted to split her forces. Two Flights to guard the strike suits, and then two Flights to hit our single Flight," she said

"Cutting their escorts in half," VioletBlood chortled. The little war maniac automatically assumed we would prevail on two-to-one odds.

Her arrogance was not entirely misplaced. The enemy was likely flying a navalized Rochefort which had more waterproofing and a broader performance envelope. As an air-superiority suit, it lacked the performance of a Harmonia, while also edging into too broad of a remit by having some light anti-ship and anti-surface roles. Unlike other Trosic RP models, they also carried a respectable amount of the one-one shot mortar-like tubes loaded with short-range anti-mage payloads.

The Rochefort did not have the performance upgrades of the Tjardu, a Zioxan derivative. Thus it was a less expensive suit. But also one that, absent Pilot skill, needed a numerical advantage to take on a Harmonia. "Careful, the Grand Admiral does not assign poor quality Pilots to critical escort duties," I admonished.

At least VioletBlood had the sense to not transmit her haughty sniff.

++++++

Occasionally, I disliked being proven correct. Whoever was commanding that Trosic formation was clever. After our focused Lance Strike at beyond recommended max range destroyed a Rochefort and, in a bout of mistaken identity, critically damaged a Baptiste, the enemy commander did peel off a force to counter us.

I had a bit of sympathy for that Baptiste Pilot. Going down over water was a bad fate for an RP Pilot. If she had to ditch, she would have to eject out of the suit or be pulled under. And even with flotation devices, she'd be at the mercy of the elements. At least the water was a bit warmer here.

She could try to go back to the submarine that launched her but that would just lead her enemies, us, straight to the vessel which we would endeavor to sink. Having a submarine near to recovery depth was a risk and one not worth a single Pilot. Honestly, her best option was to broadcast her surrender on an open channel, dump her suit in the Gaudia sea, and hope House BlackSky and not House Alecto picked her up. We were more inclined to do prisoner exchanges than our Alecton allies. And it was not like either House flogged our POWs.

But that singular tragedy of someone drowning cold and alone was at the back of my mind. Tonight was going to be a night full of loss, what was one more?

The Trosic commander had been clever. She had sent a force after us. But Instead of two Flights of Rochefort, she sent what looked like six of the escort suits and four strike suits. They planned to return the favor and counter-fire.

It weakened their overall strike package, but they were trying to take out a freighter, one filled with munitions. It was overkill and honestly, she would be better served with more fighter RP, but the Trosic commander had a set amount of each type of suit and that was that.

Attention was a critical resource in battle. One had to be focused on immediate threats but an officer had to keep an eye on the larger picture. Fortunately, I was merely a Flight Leader.

If I were still a Field Officer, as in my previous life, I would have to put more focus on how the Alecton Howe class cruiser and its RP Combat Air Patrol Squadrons had just barely managed to defeat the incoming missile barrage. And how that had left them somewhat out of position to deal with the second Escadron which would be in target range sooner than the one we were fighting.

That was just the defensive aspect. Those Trosic submarines had to be tracked and hunted down and our own Mulberry Fast attack craft were also being attacked and could fight back as well.

Nearer to me, I would also have to keep abreast of what was happening on the Sunset Breeze. Was it being evacuated? Where were the VTOLs? Even at the Squadron Commander level, Quirinus is coordinating with the Sarpedona Flights running escort to the Spatha VTOLs and any other BlackSkyvian RP in the area.

But that was all above my pay grade. My focus was on two reinforced flights worth of enemy RP that was on an intercept vector.

I had my Flight change course, at max power, as if we were swinging around the intercepting force to try to get back to threatening the main enemy RP force.

"They're still coming," VioletBlood noted. "But we can't draw them out too far."

"Right," GreyDawn agreed. "If we're no threat to their main force then they'll simply rejoin them."

"Then we better keep their force divided," Visha said.

Listening to them and taking part in the Flight Leader channel, I smirked. I then finished up and went back to my Flight. "That's right girls. Now, let's get their attention."

The enemy formation was moving aggressively, but sensibly. The six Rochefort fighters were spread in a staggered arrow formation of three pairs with the four Baptiste strike suits back and in the protective "pocket" of their escorts.

Timing was key. We could get a couple more Lance shots in before the Baptiste got into range. Thus it was their imperative to try and intercept us as soon as possible. Their evasion was minimal but they would increase it the closer they got in.

"Mark targets," I ordered as I checked the composite display. We had a handful of Lance shorts left and this was the time to make them count. Being proper escorts, Rocheforts provided some measure of protection and their own Veils and countermeasures helped protect their charges.

It was a solid formation.

It was also one that was built around a tactical mistake. One the Pilot in charge should have realized.

And yet we would give them one more chance to learn.

Mercy's Flight had burst in and opened fire with their Lances on the main force. They only took out one escort RP. But the reaction was the same and sensible enough. Two more flights peeled off one of each type. There was some risk as that left the main strike force with only four escorts. But letting another BlackSkyvian flight freely harass them was unacceptable.

Second Flight should be able to handle that. If not, if not. I could only put a bare bit of attention on them. Most of my focus was on the enemy before me. The range was almost right, the targeting was getting better. Just a bit more...

"Fire Solution, Two," I ordered as each of us fired our projectors. Eight blinding, relentless Lance beams speared out. Lances were very powerful weapons. And now my Flight was down to just a single Lance shot remaining. Not counting myself, as I had fired that warning shot across the freighter's bow earlier tonight, I was already empty

And those Baptiste would be hard targets.

But this time the enemy force was moving with greater focus on us, was at closer range, we had a bit more time to refine our targeting, and there was far more ordnance in the sky.

The House Trosier Pilots reacted well. They were in a good formation and had solid enough training. When faced with enough firepower to burn through a battleship's active defenses, Wards, and armor they did not panic and reacted as a cohesive unit.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong reaction.

They had trained to protect the RP they were escorting above all. For a RP escorting a strike force to ensure it can fire on a large high-value target, it was the sensible reaction. For a small formation going out to attack enemy RP, it was the wrong reaction.

The Lances sliced through the formation. The hit ratio was lousy, RP were rather small and fast moving compared to the normal targets of Lances, but with the power levels involved even a glancing blow could be sufficient to cripple an enemy suit.

Three Rocherfort were destroyed, or were sputtering wrecks, two more were moderately damaged and one unlucky Baptiste Pilot had her wards overload from a grazing shot which also heated up her own flasks causing chain detonation of her munitions and power cells.

"Charge Emitters! Drop flasks!" I ordered. The alchemical power cells that stored the bracing power channeled though Lance Projectors were massively-intricate artificer creations . The cells were stored on conformal flasks that bolted onto the outside of the suit's torso, sort of like an extra-thick bodice. They could be ejected if damaged, or to recoup some weight savings and gain a slight performance edge.

If I survived, I would justify the expense to Quirinus, but I doubted she would object much. Right now this meant that my Flight had three Lances ready and were not weighted down by the flasks.

The formation was rattled; half their escorts were down, but they still had teeth.

If we were flying Harmonia that would not be as much of an issue. As House BlackSky's air superiority and interceptor suit, its high-end performance and maneuverability gave it a primary defensive role of taking out enemy strike Ritual Plate, in addition to its offensive roles in establishing air dominance.

An interesting thing about the Polyxo suit I wore was the primary difference between the Air superiority configuration and the Strike configuration was that the latter had the projectors, power feeds, and flasks to fire Lances. While the former had extra thrust capability, maneuvering, and more capacity on the anti-air Ballista projectors

But of the three primary configurations Strike and Air Superiority were the closest. Which meant that without our Flasks weighing us down, I had, after the Polyxo configuration for this role, the third best thing to a Harmonia Flight.

"Match course. And ready for evasion, they are going to fire at maximum range," I stated.

"But they should wait until we're just out of our Ballista range. That way they can get the better targeting data and have the least time for us to maneuver," VioletBlood countered.

"That would be their best move." I agreed. "But that ignores the psychological factor. They've taken losses, heavy losses. And more of their comrades have peeled off to protect the main strike team from Mercy's Flight."

"And here's my Flight," I purred. We were under a moderate Veil, but I was doing little to obscure our approach. I was focused more on maneuvering to avoid their fire and close than hiding who we were.

"You think they have intel on us?"

"I know if a Zioxan 'mercenary' Pilot could figure out who a white feather-winged Polyxo Pilot in this theater was, I don't have to ask you what the odds were that Pilots from their ally House Trosier were also informed," I lightly said.

GreyDawn laughed.

A few moments passed. "We'll be nearing the range that our boffins and spooks think their Lances max out at, so unless they're wrong or Trosier has a new model... well I guess we'll find out soon enough."

There was more laughter, but we had started adding more maneuvers to our flight paths. Three Baptiste meant a max of a dozen Lances, more likely nine. That was still a good amount against four enemy RP.

"Besides, they'll think we're empty on our Lances; let them think they have the superior range," I ordered. Keeping my Flight's Lance projectors, their focusing apparatus and emitters, charged up did add wear to the system. My Flight would also have to fire soon or the entire apparatus would have to be refurbished. Storing that much arcane energy in a ready-to-fire state also meant that if someone got hit, a sympathetic detonation was more likely.

It was a risk, but if I were in the enemy's hooves and I had superior range I would endeavor to keep my distance. Meanwhile, I wanted to close so those last Lances will have a better hit ratio.

"Incoming fire," GreyDawn stated, her voice oddly cool. The tracks that appeared on the map made the massive arcane blasts look far slower and sterile than the danger they represented.

"Evade. Evade. Evade!" I ordered, not because my Flight was not already scattering, but because it was part of our training.

The three enemy Lances blinked across the distance to us. I was in the lead position. From my display, I gauged that two strikes would miss VioletBlood and Visha due to their jinking and sudden accelerations. The third was one to my left I could evade, but... after me, it would pass GreyDawn.

And she, however, would have a far harder time evading. The Lance would miss. But with an arcane weapon designed to blow though capital ship protections, close was enough to kill a Ritual Plate. It would be almost far enough for GreyDawn's wards to protect her.

Almost. Not enough.

We had all moved the most we could and it was rotten luck that it would hit her. But... in another twist of luck, I was also positioned to do something.

My reaction was automatic. I had an instant. I slammed to the side, Zephyr and wings screaming in pain. I dumped all my spare power, including my earrings, into my port-side wards. Silver light flared around me like a comet as I tried for just the correct intercept angle.

Too close and I'd immolate myself, and not even save GreyDawn. Too far and I'd deflect but still blow myself up. I had to kiss the Lance with enough force to brush past and alter its deflection while not detonating it.

I only needed a couple of degrees. And for a moment, my Wards screaming, alert lights flickering to orange and red, I thought I had it. The pressure on my Wards eased as I pulled away pushing my Zephyr to get maximum separation. My Display updated. Alarms were still blaring, but the Lance was racing past me on its new heading.

And then it detonated.

My Wards flashed over and then my alarms cut out and my display crashed. I tumbled with my suit burning and prickling agony as I fell.

The worst was in my tail as it felt boiled-over and my wings had almost been blasted back. I had a splitting headache that felt like my horns had been pounded into my skull

The pain was good. It meant I was alive. I started casting the ritual to restart my suit's systems. It was supposed to be an automatic process, but the procedure was for the pilot to do it as well. There was a squealing noise; something had torn away above my left hip. My suit smelled of hot metal fragments and burnt leather.

And my display remained off.

I could see out of my eye lenses but that was just barely enough for basic flying. Navigation, especially over water at night, required instruments.

Though I only had until I crashed into the sea. I glanced down at a mechanical altimeter with its luminous dial in the corner of my vision. It was spinning down. Maybe I would be hit by the enemy, maybe I would have to ditch my suit. Other backups such as the compasses, aetheric and magnetic, and gyros were still operational.

I tried restarting my suit again and this time a few indicator lights flickered on. They were a sullen amber instead of a bright green but it was something. Now able to be fed suit power, my Zephyr were coaxed back awake, they had been shaken but the spirits accepted the inputs. And then my display flickered back up and I winced.

Half of my ward projectors were just... gone. My power systems were battered and I had damage to my Lances, but more worryingly one of my Ballista air to air weapons systems was out. At least I had ditched the Flasks and my Lance emitters were not charged. Even my Verutum launcher was down with both a fault in the fed mechanism of the pebble-like munitions and the power to the launcher itself severed.

In all, my weapon choices were rather low. Worse, my suit was in strike configuration which meant I had a lower energy capacity with Ballista than if I were in fighter configuration.

The map came up as my comms and scrying returned.

"The enemy's slowing down," Visha noted. I saw her highlighting velocity and heading estimates on the Display.

"They'll be trying to maintain distance and get a more accurate follow-up." I gasped, barely audible. My throat suddenly became very dry. I drank some water, thankful that system had not failed.

"What about the countess?" VioletBlood demanded, apparently not hearing me.

"She would want us to use this opportunity; she has time,' GreyDawn stated. "Mark your targets. If they'll give us that chance we will take it."

The enemy strike suits should have given an immediate follow-up shot. But they waited a few seconds to get a better targeting. Having only hit one of us must have spooked them.

They were angry and afraid. They had been thrown into a mission they had not expected and now, in this moment they thought they had us at their mercy. And so their strike RP slowed and took a steadier course. They took that extra time to ensure their targeting. Maybe they were afraid, maybe they were overconfident, but they forgot the most important part of air-to-air combat:

"Fire," I ordered, my voice returning. I knew my input was not necessary. I had trained my Flight. My focus was on regaining my position, speed, and altitude.

GreyDawn had beat me by a half second with her own command.

The three fired, and this time their my Flight's last Lances targeting the three remaining Baptiste. Two were solid hits, one was a graze, but the suit flared and she jettisoned her own flasks.

"Well done!" I congratulated as I caught up on the greater tactical picture. It was... hectic. Mercy's Flight was similarly mauling the small Trosic detachment chasing them.

Quirinus' Flight, supported by nearly a squadron of Sarpedona that had been escorting the Spatha, was moving to intercept the remaining sixteen Baptiste before they could get in range of the Sunset. That was still a powerful strike package, especially against a freighter, and one that could also target smaller surface assets like a Mulberry Fast Attack Craft. But, due to our efforts, they only had a Flight of four Rocheforts escorting them.

The Alecton forces were still in the fight. Though, it seems our allies had been wounded, as their cruiser had been damaged and was billowing smoke. The Trosic forces were pulling back but were under pursuit. They would have to break contact somehow if they wanted to make it to their submarines without endangering the u-boats.

That was all beyond me and just taken in with a glance at my restored map data. Head still pounding, I focused on what mattered right now. I could feel everything sharpen and a bit of the pain dull as my suit's medical system responded.

The enemy before us was now down to a Flight in strength. They had two damaged Rochefort, one that was fresh, and one damaged Baptiste with no Lances.

Even with my own damaged suit... I was comfortable with those odds.

The enemy managed to get a fairly coherent formation. They were well-trained enough and capable of taking losses, but they had to be in a bad state. Not just of their own fate but of the rest of their strike Escadron had been eviscerated. Admirably, they were still trying to keep us from reuniting with friendly forces.

It was unfortunate that they had dedicated themselves to an already doomed task.

With Visha in a protective spot at my wing, GreyDawn and VioletBlood formed up and led the assault targeting the two Pilots on the forward half of the somewhat out-dated elongated diamond formation.

Opening fire with their Ballistas, they caught two damaged enemy suits and started soaking their wards. The enemy peeled off and flipped into a more aggressive stance.

Cutting off from the rest of their Flight, I was not sure if they were trying to draw VioletBlood and GreyDawn away to protect the rest of their flight, but it was a risky move, damaged as those two Trosic Pilots were.

The sole fully-intact enemy RP launched herself at me. I could appreciate the Rochefort Pilot's logic. At a glance, I would look like the easy target, and taking me out could be a quick way to get numerical superiority.

That was the dire part about Flight-scale combat. The first casualty, then the second, could turn an even match into something prohibitively lopsided.

But Visha was there; she took the lead, immediately firing and cutting off the enemy Pilot, nearly diving into knife-fighting range.

I had a moment of indecision. The classroom correct choice would be swooping in to assist Visha. I was combat capable enough that I could contribute and two on one would make that fight much quicker.

But then I saw the last Baptise trying to fly off. "We've got a runner," I said over the flight channel and went in pursuit of the errant strike suit.

I chanced a quick gaze over my display, and noted that my Flight seemed to have things well in hand. The enemy RP, for all they were ably piloted, were getting more damaged with each passing second.

Adjusting my Gorgon Rig, which was also damaged, I found that the fleeing pilot had dropped her emissions even lower. It was hard to tell if she was attempting stealth, or if her suit had been more badly damaged than I had thought?

As best I could, given my own damage, I followed suit and cut down my emissions. The heading was strange. It was vaguely in the direction of the forces that Mercy and Quirinus were engaging. Was the pilot going to a rally point? Was she going to their enemy sub?

A bit of anger flared within me. If that was the pilot's goal, then she was showing a treasonous level of cowardice. Ritual Plate was not the best at anti-submarine warfare. The suits had less capacity for underwater scrying and sonar systems and were not the best for carrying depth charges arcane or otherwise.

But we could do airborne tracks and surface scans and we could call in VTOLs that were equipped with anti-sub capabilities.

"She spotted me," I stated, giving in a little curse as her course changed just a bit and her Scrying swept over me. Both our suits were damaged enough that our Veils and other low observable systems were fairly shot. "Moving to intercept."

I dove down. The range closed and I opened fire, only for my targeting system to malfunction and the indicator on my instrument display flicker off. Even after manually correcting, only a few of the arcane shots splashed against the enemy's wards. I would have to be careful; a cornered Pilot would fight with every weapon at hand.

Rolling over, she fired back, and I pulled tighter into my curve to evade. Above, the battle was going well for the rest of my Flight. Quirinus' Flight and the Alecton sub hunters seemed to be having quite the field day, having a broken strike formation and forced the surrender of several pilots, and hinting multiple subs respectively.

I flipped over and got tagged flaring my wards as the amber arcane energy blasts hit. Some hit the weak spot where my projectors had burned out and started hitting my armor.

Darting, I took careful aim, making sure to lead to compensate, and fired. My remaining Ballista's capacity dwindled in the profligate burst, but I was rewarded with the enemy pilot's wards flashing out.

Turning, she went into a powered dive that gained her speed but brought both of us closer to the ocean. I had to give her credit for her skills. Despite the damage to her suit and the fear I could begin to sense as our distance closed, she managed to pull her dive to prevent her from becoming an obvious target.

Angling her shoulders back, she started firing off her own anti-mage weapons. Unlike the more complicated, but higher capacity, Verutum launcher, House Trosier Ritual Plate had a handful of single shot mortar-like launchers. They were rather similar to the pyrotechnics mortars I had used in the ballet troupe.

Annoyingly, that comparison was proven far more accurate than I had anticipated as a brace of blinding, bursting explosions flashed in front of me. My helmet's eye lenses automatically closed, and my Veils were burned away as my Wards began to lose cohesion. The headache rooted in my horns increased as my display grew very sparse.

I was just barely able to see that the Pilot had jackknifed in front of me, firing her own anti-air weapons. I powered through the blinding attack and, turning so that my side with the remaining projectors bore the brunt, returned fire.

It was inelegant and brutish as we pummeled each other. Her targeting systems must have been damaged as well, given the spread of her fire. This close, I could tell that there was more than fear in my enemy; there was a bitter resignation.

Setting my jaw, my lips pulled back I plummeted to her in a direct controlled dive. Alarms screamed around me, but I could tell by the overlapping tones that none of them were that critical.

Taking an instant to steady my aim, I fired. I had to be careful. I was nearly empty. Ballista charges shot out, and the enemy's forward wards collapsed. I grinned when I saw part of the enemy's skull shatter and fly off into the night.

My mood dampened when I realized that it was merely a piece of her helmet and the whole faceplate that had been torn away.

I blinked. The Pilot was young, not much older than VioletBlood. And now her fear had turned into naked terror, but more than that, her radiating resignation had curdled into fatalistic despair.

She had a shot but her gauntlet did not fire. Aching loss, loss of sisters, or near sisters, of family had made the young Pilot's emotions brittle, sharp. Well, if Quirinus was taking prisoners...

"Surrender. Eject your suit. Parole will be granted," I said over an open channel in semi-memorized Akoccitan. The language of House Trosier was a Romance language so there was enough similarity to Silvan Latin to be confusing.

At this low altitude, the Pilot could see her suit fall into the sea, which all but guaranteed that she was not surrendering military secrets to House BlackSky. She'd be able to soothe a guilty conscience, if any troubled her, that her surrender hadn't' cost her House anything it wasn't already going to lose.

My Ballista was aimed over her as we closed in. Her eyes were wide and almost panicked. I wondered if her communications systems were down.

But... she was no longer pointing her weapons at me and she did glance down at the sea below. Maybe she could see reason.

We had slowed down, and she was hardly trying to shake me. The fight above us was nearly concluded. "Surrender; die," I repeated in Akoccitan, keeping target lock as my Wards recovered while hers seemed to stay down. "No difference for me."

Feeling complete resignation, the young Pilot exhaled. Glancing back up at me, she whispered. Wings snapped inward and she plummeted.

I almost fired as she pushed her Zephyr and went into a vertical dive.

At this altitude, it did not take long.

Even if she somehow survived impacting the water at that velocity, the weight of her suit quickly pulled her deep below the surface.

I took a moment focusing my Gorgon Rig on the heaving sea to make sure this was not some... desperate way to reunite with her submarine.

There was nothing there.

And there was nothing I could do.

It was all such a waste. Glancing at my Display, I cursed myself. I had gotten target-fixation and let my Flight down. That they had defeated their enemies was small comfort. Giving the sea one look, I ascended to get back to Visha and the others I also had to check in with Quirinus, though it looked like the air-to-air part of this battle was over.

++++++

My feet treading the metal decking, I strode down the airship's long passageway with a confident step. There was the constant hum of the airship's various systems and the deck rocked ever so slightly. Nevertheless, I strode with the effortless confidence; I might be lower nobility, I might be young, but I was raised and trained from birth.

A Legionary through and through, I rightfully felt that the Imperial Legions were superior to the Household Fleet. Also it was important for both my military and social rank to conduct myself with proper bearing. After all, the Imperatrix in her wisdom encouraged commoners, and nobles, to better themselves, both for their benefit and for our House's.

And Countess DiamondDust was a prime example of just what sort of advancement was possible, if one had special drive and skill. And her elevation had pushed me to heights of ability and potential faster than I had dreamed.

My future, my duty, seemed more secure than I dared hope... provided some savage Minor House missile crew or lesser Great House Pilot in an imitator's suit didn't get a lucky hit on me, of course. However, death was part of the Legions. It was something I tried not to think much about. If I died unwed my land and title would go to my cousin.

But after months and months in a stinking FOB, it was nice to be aboard a true symbol of BlackSkyvian power. As a Nova Class Fleet Carrier, the Obsidian Corona carried two Wings of Ritual Plate. Granted, they were Fleet Pilots in Fleet Wings, each of only eight Squadrons, but combined with nearly two dozen Fujiwara torpedoes and two VTOL squadrons, the Obsidian Corona was a mobile force to impose our House's will upon our enemies.

With all those assets, the Damocles Light Carrier and the Mace Destroyer in escort were almost an afterthought. And there were ships in the Household Fleet that made the Obsidian Corona seem insignificant.

It was awkward to have some other Ritualista team strip me out of my armor, but the Fleet girls were competent enough and could do the repairs necessary on the countess' suit.

I also had the chance to get my hair back up into my preferred curls. However, when I got out of the head's wash station, I found that my countess had wandered off after getting a medical check. She was not in the galley, or at least the one a deck above and two frames aft of the RP bay we had been assigned as overflow.

However, the Islander girl was there having a snack. She was getting ready to play a game of chess. To her credit it would be a proper Diyu-style game. And she was a skilled enough aggressor in the skirmishing phase, and could use those extra points to get a favorable positioning on a full board in the second phase. Her picking a more knight and scouting heavy build was interesting, enough that GreyDawn rarely lost betting on her.

I did stop by to talk with her, but mostly to get a cup of posca and a pork-filled pita. As expected, the Fleet galley had better meat, garum, and herbs. Now that we had access to better food, I was slightly jealous that the Islander could easily eat her fill without any noticeable effect on her physique, save perhaps further buttressing her admittedly formidable assets. But, that envy was tempered by our new alliance. Now that we had come to an understanding; she was dutifully helping me capture my countess's heart. Even a commoner like her could understand how my victory would benefit us both, I would wed the duchess' youngest daughter, and the Islander would become her mistress. I hadn't been so crass as to mention the last part out loud, but it was clear to me that she understood her place. Ultimately, a countess's mistress was a very reasonable role for one such as her, and the Islander had a passing adequate mind. Both commoner and noble would have our lives improved by this.

Ultimately, I had to seek assistance from Prefect Quirinus before I found out where the Countess had hidden herself away. I suspected that GreyDawn and the Islander had known but opted not to tell me for some obscure reason. In the end, their obstinance, commendable though it might be, would not be enough to keep me from my quarry. After all, to hunt you must understand how the game thinks, and I understood the Countess. And so, I had known that she, being a stickler for the rules, would ensure that her commander knew where she was, and thus my success was assured.

I strode confidently past some Marinii fleet ratings and then a couple of Centurions from Helm, Navigation, and Meteorology on their way to their duty stations. While I could afford to not notice the scurrying of the lower ranks, I did make a point of slowing to brace and expose my neck in a salute to a naval Tribune. Her white fleet uniform bore the insignia of the Powerplant and Propulsion Section, and judging by her weary emotions, limp tail, blank expression, and perfunctory returning salute, the amber-haired Tribune had just come off of shift. Judging by her tired resignation and complete lack of any hint of anticipation, she was off to attend some other duty instead of going to her rack and sleeping.

After passing her, I went down several more frames until I got to Legionary Country. A Fleet Carrier was assigned a century of Legionaries for various security, search and rescue, shore patrol, and other roles. Being assigned to a Fleet airship was not a glamorous posting, but it did come with access to a good galley and superior bunking.

All at the cost of possibly going down with the ship if an enemy attack got through the Combat Air Patrol and other defenses. I stopped and saluted the two Legionaries on guard. They were of lower rank but I was not saluting them; I was saluting what they were guarding. The Armory inside Legionary Country had its own security. However, this was an RP carrier; a saboteur had a wide variety of various alchemical fuels, detonators, and munitions to pick from all over the ship.

"I'm here for Primus Centurion DiamondDust," I said, using a shortened name for the countess.

The two Legionaries on guard looked me over. I was in the bodysuit and harness that went under my Ritual Plate and had taken time to put rank pins and awards into my hair after I redid my curls. I was not sure why the Countess normally eschewed such awards. The pins were a convenient way to wear one's awards when out of uniform.

Or in this specific case, when only wearing the inner layer of flight armor. I suppose the countess could simply wear the Crown of the Preserver. Though why she had yet to commission one was beyond me.

The two imposing Legionaries were taller and older than me. One was a grenadier, which, more than the weapon she had slung, meant she was skilled in combat magic. Not at the level of a Legionary Flier, or even a mage, of course but she would be destructive.

The other had a standard Mark 36 battle rifle. Though the flashes on her uniform and her hair pins marked the lean woman as an Evocatus veteran on her second twenty-year term who had a few campaign ribbons also woven in her dark purple hair.

However, both did bow their horns and with crisp salutes let me into their compartment. I might be a Pilot and a noble, but I was an Legion Pilot.

Going through a small passageway with a few doors on either side, I entered a common room that was rather spacious. That was the advantage of the larger Fleet hulls. While weight was always a concern on an airship, vessels of this size had more volume to play with.

There were a few posterboard prints, mostly landscapes though a couple portraits were rather risque, mounted on the walls and a few skeletal tables and light chairs. One side of the room had a nook that worked as a kitchen and a bar. Though one end of the room had a few pillows, some thick carpeting, and a pair of Ondani shepherds. The two large fluffy grey and black dogs, in contrast to their normally energetic nature, were at rest. One was drowsing while the other had a slack tongue and was happily having its ears scratched.

With her own tail swishing, my countess was sitting on the floor between both of the dogs.

I paused and watched her for a few moments. I had known her for years and the times she had let her guard down were rare and precious. Even before her ennobling, she tried to hold herself to strict standards of comportment. Her emotional control might not have been as skilled as she thought, but she made an attempt.

I will admit at first I thought she was putting on airs and aspiring above her station, but the countess has proved me wrong in that regard.

"Yes, LoveBlood?" she asked before turning to look at me.

One of the big dogs woke up and shifted its muzzle closer to her and rolled to the side.

"I wondered where you had gone."

"The squadron's on stand-down," she stated. "We'll be debriefed soon enough."

I stepped closer. "And you decided to come here?"

"I was not hungry, and this way the inspection team's dog handlers can go to the galley and get some food."

Keeping in a frown, I nodded. There was no reason that Legion working dogs would not be allowed in the galley. And that there were only two of the four dogs that had helped inspect the enemy freighter put lie to her statement. But I would let her have a face-saving white lie. "How kind of you. Such a burden to spend time with such handsome animals."

On the upside, she had decided to spend time with dogs instead of some of the ship's cats. The felines were perfectly fine creatures and skilled at their jobs, but I appreciated the directness of dogs. They were also bigger. Though the working cats some legionary scout units used were elegant, and large enough animals.

Tauria smiled and scratched both dogs on the neck.

I circled around so she wouldn't need to crane her neck. We were not alone with the dogs - there were a few legionaries sitting around a table with raised edges, apparently playing a dice game. For common legionaries, they were admirably skilled at containing their emotions; to my senses, they felt almost flat. One of their little quartet was a Drow and smelled male. That was quite odd - an airborne posting was unusual for someone without wings.

I supposed the Auxilia have some useful skills to justify his place here, instead of down in the mud of some jungle or another. The markings on his uniform indicated he was a combat engineer, which also seemed like an odd specialty for an airborne posting. Still strange specialties and muted emotions or not, they weren't any concern of mine.

After all, both myself and the Countess outranked them, militarily and socially.

"Are you worried about the debrief?"

"Why should I be? Our squadron's casualties were light. Everyone should be back on duty soon," the countess stiffly stated.

"Our squadron was lucky," I allowed. The other squadrons had heavier losses. Though the enemy...

I was unsure. If our performance had displeased the countess she would have made it known. For the moment, I was at a loss as to why she had... sequestered herself. She had taken more damage but it was to ensure GreyDawn could fire her last Lance. In the cold calculus of combat it was a sensible sacrifice.

The blonde gave me a weary look that for a moment made it hard to believe she was a year younger than me. Maybe that was why the quartet of dice playing Legionaries suddenly stank of pity, their emotional muting cracking just a bit. They did not understand the duties that fell upon their social superiors.

I gave a haughty sniff as I pointedly turned away from the Legionaries; we were not some savage broodlings, dominated and drugged to the horns and used as shock fodder. We were young, yes, but we were highly trained cadets given special dispensation for active combat, as a sign of the Imperatrix's personal trust in us.

"I do have some good news," I announced. "Reinforcements have arrived; you really should see it."

"Why?"

My tail swished. "It'll be a good surprise." Seeing the countess here having.... time to herself was trying, but she did have emotions and limits.

"A surprise?" Tauria sighed.

"I suppose it's less... tangible than playing with dogs," I knelt down and let one sniff my hand.

"I like puppies."

I patted the Ondani shepherd who eyed me curiously. "They're bigger than you."

"Puppy," she repeated.

"I can't argue with that," I admitted, noting how stern her expression was. "Is everything alright?"

"Our squadron's injuries were light, and my Flight came off without any casualties. We took out a force or Trosic regulars that outnumbered us three-to-one," she stated.

I felt she was holding back. For her that was normal. "But are you okay? Maybe you can ask the medico for a draught of laudanum?"

The countess stared at me.

"It's not recreational," I huffed. "If it's from a doctor, it's medicinal."

Tail stiff, her expression hardened.

"I'm not suggesting you drip it over a cube of Yomi sugar into some absinthe," I defended.

"Oh? Pixie too weak, you want a full hallucinogen? Why not ask for some Vualian Marching powder to dust the rim of the glass," she dryly remarked.

"Um..."

"I am aware of the recipes Mercy and her wingwoman were swapping over our last R&R. Honestly, you have to learn that soldiers, especially Pilots, exaggerate. A drink like that could easily make you very sick. Really compared to all the other stuff, the wormwood has barely any effect."

I tried to not look bashful. "So... you won't need any?"

The blonde's gaze intensified. "I'll be fine."

I nodded. "But not now?"

She gave me a toothy smile. "You're being bold, Baroness."

I exhaled and stilled my tail. "And I'm having a quiet word with my commander." I lowered my voice and glanced at the Legionaries who were carefully preoccupied with their dice game. "It's just the two of us." There would be no undermining her authority with her Flight and our Squadron.

The countess slowly nodded.

"Tauria, I've known you longer than everyone else in the Squadron. Well... myself and Prefect Quirinus."

She stared at me.

"You've got people to talk to," I stated.

"I am aware of Legion counselors; I have had to talk to them before." The countess then pulled out a couple ship's biscuits and gave them to the dogs who started to happily crunch. "I'm sure that'll help me deal with my emotions," she dryly said.

"But Countess, emotions are for commoners," I loftily said.

She snorted.

I sat down on the other side of one of the dogs from her. "You're distant." I paused. "More distant than normal."

The countess's glare returned. Her gaze was very far for a moment. "I'm just struck by the waste of it all."

I gave her a sympathetic pulse. I knew that was one of her issues. She was an ardent supporter of House BlackSky, and put herself at risk in the Legions, but she also knew that the Legions, Fleet, and Auxilia existed to support and protect the House and Empire.

It was a question of resources: spend directly on the military or invest in growing industry, research, infrastructure, and arcana. Making the Empire more prosperous would allow for more spending for the military and more capability could be built. As the countess explained, it was the classic short term versus medium term versus long term investment issue.

Running a barony, or a county, had similar concerns, if on a much smaller scale. The last correspondence I had with the seneschal I appointed to run my barony while I was deployed, and under age, indicated things were doing well enough. It was hard being a noble without much in the way of family. There was my cousin Lady LavenderFang, but she was even younger than I was.

"I guess the Trosic Armada did take a lot of casualties to try, and fail, at sinking their own illicit freighter." I patted the dog who seemed to be eyeing me a bit less suspiciously.

The tip of Tauria's tail curled.

"It's not that?" I tilted my head.

"Not exactly," Tauria looked down. "Your birthday is in three weeks." It was not a question, the countess had memorized a lot of information about those in the squadron, especially the Pilots, and Ritualista, under her command.

"Yeah?" I was looking forward to my fifteenth birthday. Granted, I doubted we could get away with a weekend pass to somewhere nice, not with us having that beach trip a month ago. And the countess was willing to suffer a birthday at a jungle posting. It was the least we could sacrifice for the House.

My family had sacrificed much: both my mothers and my older sister. Despite all that, the Barony of Lilla was prosperous and well-enough run. It had population and resources and was near good trade borders. Without me... well LavenderFang would grow with time.

The countess sighed. "Our situation is abnormal."

I shrugged. I had been a cadet and been alone since I was twelve and the countess was only a year younger than me. My jealousy of Tauria had turned into admiration.

Her parents had also died for House and Empire. And if a commoner like her could become a noble and run a Flight and a county then I had no room to complain about the obligations of station. If I had to give up the independence of Barony Lilla by making it part of the Duchy of Argenia then I would take that.

I would simply have to make sure that one of my broodlings, sired with my countess of course, was appointed to take my family's Barony, and her line would continue to hold it. In a way I envied the Islander Girl's simplicity. She just had to keep loyalty to the House, Empire, Legions, and the countess. She served diligently and would be rewarded for it.

"We are very good Pilots," I stated.

I could have abdicated and simply been another fantastic ace Pilot. But I would not willingly place such a burden on my little cousin, nor would I risk my barony's subjects being put under someone who was not ready. There was only so much even the most competent a seneschal could mitigate before things started to slip.

"That Baptiste Pilot wasn't." Tauria's voice was quiet as she petted the dogs.

"Which one?"

The Countess exhaled. "At the end, when the rest of the scratch squadron sent to take us had been whittled down to a Flight, she wouldn't surrender. The others made the sensible choice, but not her. Maybe it's because we had killed the rest of her Flight, but instead of surrender, she chose to dive straight into the sea."

I tilted my head. "And?"

The blonde's pout grew. "If she had surrendered, she could have waited until the next prisoner exchange. Such a waste."

I nodded. "Yes, Grand Admiral Trosier did spend a lot getting her trained up, and if she was young she could not have spent much time on missions to recoup that value. Where if she surrendered eventually she would be repatriated and maybe could spend her time and her life in a more useful way for the Armada."

The countess snorted. "Close enough."

I frowned. There was more to life than military service, at least for us. House Trosier was nowhere near as civilized as we were.

"I do have something you might like," I offered.

The countess eyed me. "Did you bring food? Or coffee"

I kept in my frustration. I should have gotten something for her when I was talking to the Islander girl. And she just said she was not hungry.

"We can get that on the way to an observation deck."

The countess tilted her head; her errant blonde bangs bouncing about.

"A Celestial Class arrived," I said triumphantly. The largest class of airship in the Household Fleet was a sight to see.

The Countess seemed appropriately impressed or at least incredulous. "Is..."

I laughed. "No, it's not the Vault of the Heavens. The Imperatrix isn't here or at least her personal flagship hasn't arrived. Interestingly, it's the Lunar Firmament from the Third Fleet."

"Interesting," the Countess flatly said, as she went back to petting the dogs.

"It is." I rallied. "The Celestial Spheres, being detached to Vordurium, has more experience with heavy naval transport and recovery. Maybe it's on some other mission, or under a bit or minor refit. Last I heard, it was on active duty, but these are maintenance-intensive airships. And thus the Firmament teleported down from the quick reaction fleet up on Lantia."

"Wait? What exactly is the Firmament here for?" she seemed to be intrigued.

I popped to my feet. "I can tell you, but that would spoil the surprise."

The countess rolled her shoulders and fluffed her wings. Her feathers were somewhat exotic, but their color combined with her blonde hair and white horns was what gave her a dangerously angelic look.

"You can stay here. It's not like a chance to see a Celestial is all that unlikely." I glanced over. The Legionaries playing dice were hardly the only people I had seen who were off duty and seemed disinterested.

The countess tapped her chin. She looked delicate, with a classic Florentine style, if heavenly, beauty but that was contrasted, no it complemented, her iron will and those sapphire eyes. I wondered if our daughters would have feathers.

"I guess that explains why a fleet carrier of all things was sent in. Taking out a Celestial would be a major blow to our heavy lift capacity," she said.

I nodded. "Not to mention our ability to deploy a whole Legion with one airship."

Between my wings down to the base of my tail chilled as the Countess' cold attention focused on me. "That is the least noteworthy capability of that class. We have many airships that, collectively, can deliver a Legion but few with such an extreme carrying capacity."

"Well, it's not here to deliver a Legion," I said as I quickly stood up.

The countess gave a chill smile. "Oh? Now, you have my attention."

"I can show you!" I assured as my tail swished behind me.

Standing up, she patted the dogs.

` "Who shall watch them?" I asked, spotting a flaw in my plan. The two shepherds looked up at me with perked up ears. They were very well-tempered dogs. That the countess liked dogs did give me some ideas.

"Optio Claudius!" the Countess barked out.

One of the Legionaries looked up from the dice game. She had braided silver hair and looked to be a designated markswoman. "Yes, Primus!"

"Can you watch the dogs of the rest of your Contubernium?"

She relaxed a bit. "Of course, Primus."

The countess spread her hands to me.

She must have read my expression and the unease I was broadcasting.

"Come now, I was watching these good boys so the Optio could concentrate on her game."

I simply nodded along.

"Lead the way, LoveBlood." Giving the dogs a last pat and a set of treats, the countess headed to the main passageway.

"It's not long, just a few frames forward of here," I explained.

"You're familiar with the layout of the Nova Class?"

I tried not to flush at her approval. "I have a basic familiarity with the Fides Fleet size hull that the Novas are constructed from as well as the other basic airship hull sizes."

I could feel the countess's attention on my back between my wings. "Ah. Any concentration on ship types?"

"I'm working my way through all the classes!" I assured. "I'm just focusing on the troopships, Long Range Insertion craft, and RP carries."

I relaxed, feeling her approval. "Good. Keep it up."

Soon, we got to an alcove with ladders that went up and down. There was a hatch on the deck that could seal off to the level below us, and another hatch above us.

"After you," the countess said after waiting for the ladderway to clear. "It is commendable for you to have put in the effort to study such things."

I shrugged and went down. "Most of our airships have a similar overall layout."

"I am aware," I could feel her amusement. "An Embarkation Deck is vital for any Fleet Airship. Where else will you have space for various VTOL, RP, Torpedo, cargo and vehicles to be landed, stored, and launched?" the Countess asked.

I flushed a little bit once we reached the Embarkation Deck. "Yes, but that means that the main deck above this one has to have everything else: all the powerplant, engineering, crew berths, galleys, control, storage of consumables for the airship."

"This isn't an exam, Baroness," the blonde chuckled.

My tail froze. "Of course... but still. Larger airships, like this one, have another deck higher up with yet more berthing and storage. Part of my studies were to find out which airship classes had large enough trim ballast tanks that they could double as..."

The countess let me trail off awkwardly. "Double as?"

"Well... swimming pools," I admitted. "They have to be set up as them, and lack size. There's also saunas and the like."

She chuckled. "Recreation is important, especially for long-duration missions. Doubly so when considering Fleet sensibilities. And I have seen the moral boosting value of swimming."

I tittered at that.

"And above?" the countess asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"It's an airship." I dryly said.

"Pretend this is an exam," she stated evenly.

I exhaled. "Well, further up, are the lifting sections and structural frames. That's where the gasbags, Teleportation Runes, warding projectors, dorsal point defenses, many of the propulsion pods, various power trunking conduits and damage control systems are all placed. There's even a dorsal observation deck, but it's about 50 yards above us."

She tsked at me. "You did not fancy a dozen story hike?"

"I did not want to waste too much of your time?" I offered. "Still, there's an irony that we're in an airship, especially a Ritual Plate carrier, and we can't fly inside."

The countess sighed as she followed behind me. "Those would be some very wide passageways to fly in."

I nodded. "I mean, yes..."

"What did you learn? Beyond the basic summary?"

"If something goes wrong up here or an airship gets hit then Damage Control would be an all-hands affair. Fleet Doctrine is well set up and drilled but there's a point where it switches from containment and repair to a delaying action to allow for evacuation." I glanced down at the deck.

The compartment we were in was starboard amidships. It was a storage and standing area with pass-throughs that linked up the VTOL hangar to the aft and the starboard RP Bays forward.

She looked out onto the Well Deck that was inboard on the centerline. The cavernous opening gaped with the Guardia Sea visible thousands of feet below us. In the roof of the Well Deck were a series of overhead cranes that allowed for small airships and large VTOLs to dock and also allowed for the loading and unloading of cargo.

"You raise a good point. Each Household Fleet ship has a layered defense which comes at an expense in power, warding projectors, RP Combat Air Patrol, and escort airships. It all increases survivability. And yet if a hit gets through... I mean that Alecton Howe Class cruiser weathered a lot more damage than one of our airships could."

I nodded. "That's why Fleet Doctrine is to use standoff capability as much as possible."

"And yet precious tonnage is spent on those," the Countess gestured to the overhead cranes. There were a variety of types and capacities. "Not the docking fixtures for airships and heavy VTOLs but the ones that can lower cargo. A bit of a risk, no?

I knew despite her assurances, the countess was still testing me. She was challenging like that. My tail swished, I would not let her down.

"Yes, in a combat zone there are many problems with hovering an airship, lack of supplemental dynamic lift and making a large, relatively slow-moving airship into a low altitude and non-moving target are two biggest. One can use the Well Deck to lob supplies via guided parachute with a bit less risk. But this capacity is mostly for loading and unloading at secure locations, especially bases."

She smiled. "We'll make a logistics Tribune out of you yet, LoveBlood. Please continue. Why not just land an airship at a base?"

I gave my own, somewhat forced, smile. "Sometimes landing is prudent, especially for a long-term docking and a maintenance check. But for a quick loading or unloading, it's less time-consuming to hover near the surface, with or without guide cables. And using the cranes has a greater throughput than using workhorse Umbra Medium VTOLs to ferry supplies."

"Which is the common use for a combat cargo transport?" she asked.

"Yes, the Umbra is useful in that role. It keeps the Motherships safer and it is easier for us Pilots to escort a group of dropships. And... " My tail stilled.

"And?"

"And in your words... both us and medium VTOLs are 'more numerous and less labor-hour and resource-intensive assets'. We're more expendable than a Fleet Airship."

The countess laughed. "Good! Now you understand how logistics is not some dry and dusty subject, it informs our doctrine, strategy, and tactics. And how it ends up with us being sent on risky missions."

I nodded to her. "Still, it does contribute to how Legionaries see Fleet officers," I quietly said as we walked down the compartment.

The countess shook her head at the rivalry between the Houses' two dominant service branches. We went aft and inwards to a set of stairs that went down below the Embarkation Deck. "It is a factor. Though it also can influence how Fleet Pilots see their superiors," she noted in a low voice.

We had arrived at one of the ventral Observation Decks. The platform was only half a deck lower, but the reinforced windows that were angled up from the deck gave a panoramic view. On each of the four sides of the platform were large caissons that held some of the landing jacks.

"What do you know about the mechanisms of landing an airship of this size?" the countess asked.

"I know it's a very carefully done affair that required coordinating hundreds of air spirits and propulsion systems, retracting the airship's ventral aft fins, many of the lower propulsion pods, and extending dozens of landing jacks to take the weight of the airship on the ground," I stated, looking at the reinforced caisson which contain the whole mechanism for extending the landing pads.

"That's a start," she admitted, giving me a somewhat approving look. "Perhaps we should make a study of it. It's fascinating given an airship normally has great control of its buoyancy. Other than major refits, even a landed airship will still retain a fair degree of lift."

I merely gave an agreeable nod and emotional pulse. Doubtless, the countess had already researched the subject looking for flaws in our doctrine, things an enemy could exploit. If not for her skills as a Pilot and aggressive command style, she would be perfect as some dusty researcher in the capital's War College.

The Observation Deck was surprisingly open. I would have expected more people would be enjoying the view.

The atmosphere was fairly quiet on the platform, as the couple Fleet ratings on observation duty gave gimlet looks to any of the other crewwomen who got a bit too loud. The observers were using various binoculars and scopes and had a direct connection to local Flight Ops and the airship's defensive coordinators.

Their main role was to serve as a backup for the Obsidian Corona's scrying systems and to give a live visual confirmation of what was going on around the airship. This was most acute on the observer who was facing aft, quietly giving range readings on a VTOL that was approaching from the stern.

I noted that while the other guests were focused on... well the reason we were here, the countess's attention was on the approaching Umbra and did a scan of the sky and water below us.

Her expression was controlled and her tail moved slowly. For a moment I wondered if it would have been the best to stay with her and the dogs.

After a moment, she turned starboard looked out at gargantuan construct hovering at a lower altitude.

"That is a big airship," the countess admitted, tail still, and a bit of grudging admiration in her voice.

"The largest and heaviest flying object on Diyu," I said with pride.

The Celestial Class was built along the lines of the larger airships in the Household Fleet. Multiple parallel hulls, three in this case, ventral Embarkation Deck, with a central Well Deck, large maneuvering fins, and propulsion pods in the aft.

It was just on a breathtaking scale. Part of its escort, a Mellona Medium Carrier, and a Maul Cruiser were in the vicinity and were, at a quarter the length, puny in comparison.

"It's not quite a white elephant," the countess grumbled, using one of those exotic turns of phrase she would occasionally lapse into. "In terms of expense..."

"There are only four Celestials in class."

The countess shrugged. "I suppose. And there are some things that only one of them can do. But it's just so many resources and value in one location. I mean compared to this ship.. "

I smirked at her implied question and took in the sight before us. "Two thirds of a mile long, the Lunar Firmament is two and a half times longer than the Obsidian Corona."

A couple weathergirls who had also been sightseeing looked over to us.

Preening a bit, I continued. "Using three larger lifting hulls instead of two smaller hulls, it has twice the width and height of this fleet carrier. In many ways, it's easier to think of a Celestial as less an airship and more a mobile garrison and base, given it has a footprint equivalent to... six... eight... city blocks? "

The countess bowed her horns to me.

Her approval was measured, but it was a start.

"It is still a lot of eggs in one basket." A bit of her melancholy at waste and loss crept back into her. I wondered if she would have felt better if I had been the one to kill that final enemy Pilot and saved the countess the trouble.

"Yes, but that has some advantages of scale. That frankly ridiculous size allows for a truly massive airship that has over eight times the gross lift capacity of this fleet carrier."

I pointed to the Alecton Howe class missile cruiser that was steaming on the sea as part of the surface ship compliment. The fires had been put out and the ugly column of black smoke had dwindled to wisps. "The Lunar Firmament outweighs that vessel by a couple thousand tons."

"It's also several times larger," the countess noted. "And a much bigger target. A much more expensive and valuable target."

"But more mobile. And while much of that mass goes structural weight, power, propulsion, crew and crew facilities, fuel, water, provisions, a Celestial has as many RP as the airship we're on, three times as many Torpedoes, plus a Torpedo Bomber squadron."

I gave a fanged smile. "And with enough left-over capacity to move over four thousand tons of supplies. These ships act as mobile depots and with a Teleport Gateway can function as a continually replenished forward staging area."

The countess shook her head. "Four Bacchus Class heavy cargo ships have the same capacity and are far cheaper. Or use two with Atlas Lift Packages. Not to mention, the Fleet has over a hundred Bacchuses. Everything has a trade-off, Baroness. There is no perfect solution. What is the real value of a Celestial? Where does it fit in the Fleet?"

I tried not to fret. "The ventral Well Deck is large enough to act as a mobile dry-dock for any airship smaller than this fleet carrier? A Celestial can also move all but the largest of ships in the Fleet's naval assets such as a submarine pack or transport a Jarngreipr frigate or any other large and oversized bit of equipment. Which gives a high-speed strategic lift capability for transport on Diyu or off-world."

"And cases such as this?" the countess inquired as she looked closer. She glanced over to one of the observers and I could see her ponder on asking for a set of binoculars.

"The Firmament is at a quite low altitude and speed isn't it?"

The countess frowned. "And there are a lot of VTOLs and a few Mulberries doing work right under it." She blinked. "I can't quite make out the flags but... I think there are divers in the water, maybe an AngelShark mini-submarine."

The two Tempestarii tittered. "We're taking a Trosic submarine!"

My tail flicked. The surprise was ruined.

She exhaled. "Bold move. Interesting that the Primus Anchorage had a lifting gantry ready to go."

"Is it?" I put on a coy smirk. "The Celestial has extra heavy lift capacity and from the moon of Lantia can appear anywhere on Diyu. That seems to be an ideal place to store various underwater recovery assets. I did say Voduri was the main place, but 3rd Fleet should have been my next guess. "

Tail swishing, she bowed her horns to me. "Very true. And with a sunk submarine... The coastal waters are fairly shallow here. Yes, there's an intelligence operation to conduct. Good thing we're already on stand-down."

"And maybe a rescue operation?" I asked.

The countess shrugged. "A Murat class pocket submarine carrier has a crew of?"

I blinked as my tail flicked. "About sixty, plus another fifty Ritualista for Demi-Wing of Ritual Plate. Call it a hundred fifty?"

"Three Light Squadrons of nine Baptistes strike suits each escorted by A Squadron of Three Heavy Flights of five Rochefort air superiority each; a standard Trosic Strike Escadron of forty-two RP," The countess absently corrected.

"I know that! I was just fighting them." I huffed. "As a unit made up of multiple squadrons of distinct RP suits, our Demi-Wing is the closest to their Escadron in size and role."

A Demi-Wing could range from four Squadrons to six Squadrons depending on if one was using a Fleet or Legion size of Wing. In terms of overall capacity, the Murat was between one of our light and medium RP carriers, ignoring that our RP carriers were airships and the Murat was a submersible ship.

She bowed her horns to me in apology.

"Well, I doubt any pilots went down with the ship." Her expression warmed. "Don't be too nervous. Our intelligence is an estimate, as it's a newer class. Having one to take apart would be a boon. Especially since one of their Murats got away and that missile u-boat was reduced to small bits of wreckage. I did hear these little subs are quieter than a typical Trosic sub."

I snorted. The Murat was maybe fifty percent heavier than a Wobbegong class, the larger of our House's two main submarine classes. "Fine. House Trosier's submarines are not bad, but they are not as stealthy as ours."

"Being smaller allows for that. And, with a smaller sub fleet, we can afford more stealth systems per boat."

"And the Torsic Armada's new, and smaller classes, were a move in that direction. Still... they have only one Ritualista per RP plus what ten extra? So few maintainers really does limit their operational capability."

"Based on our experience, yes," the countess agreed. "Our thinking is that the decreased hull size would be detrimental to a submarine that has Ritual Plate as its primary offensive weapon. And we have an even higher ratio of Ritualista to Pilots on our subs."

"Our own submarines are the opposite; we use Torpedoes, both the big Fujiwara aerial torpedoes and aquatic Kaitabha torpedoes as our primary weapons while the RP complement is smaller and supplemental." I frowned. Serving on a submarine would be challenging. Beyond the cramped conditions and limited maintenance, launching and recovery were fraught for a variety of reasons. It was galling to admit, but House Trosier might have more experience and capability with amphibious RP launch and recovery.

"Their operational tempo must suffer," I added.

"House Trosier's airship fleet is far smaller than ours and built around a patrol and small-scale air assault. They don't have the scale of airborne carriers we do. And their own large seaborne carriers are formidable but require extensive protection."

"And we can still sink them with a Telephe or Torpedo strike," I smirked.

"Possibly," the countess allowed before going back to the Celestial Class. "It seems the Murat is intended as a relatively inexpensive way to get a respectable strike package near enough to a target, launch said strike, make an attack run then slip away and attack later. I don't think they intend to have them do round the clock missions. That would expose them too much. Meanwhile, our airships require the capability to have a persistent RP defense which requires constant use, which increases the number of Pilots, suits, and Ritualista."

"They sank a Mulberry and damaged that Alecton cruiser but at the cost of, what, half their Pilots and a submarine?"

The countess shrugged. "If that Howe were not here this would be a different story. Or if they just focused on the Howe they could have sunk it. Still it's not a great exchange. There's also the flaw with any RP strike mission. Unless your escorts defeat the target's air assets or you break contact you'll bring the enemy back to your Mothership."

Her face twisted into a frown. "Though I suppose a full Escadron is still cheaper than a Murat."

"They'll learn from it," I spat. "House Trosier hates Alecto enough. I wonder if that's why we're recovering that submarine and pulling off the crew."

"As for the rescue operation, that's what our AngelShark mini-subs are for. And if anyone got out using the escape trunks. It's a bit risky at that depth, but if they have the right hydromancers they could mitigate things." She shook her head.

"It is a waste," I stated, taking a bit to relish the approval from the countess.

In contrast to her feelings, the blonde gave me a sympathetic look as if she did not fully believe me. "Even if you don't value them as thinking beings with intrinsic value, us trading them back to House Trosier can be a diplomatic token. Given, they fired on us and we sank some of their subs." She exhaled. "And nearly killed a wing of their pilots.

"This wasn't even the largest submarine that was sunk."

"No, but it's the one that has survivors on it."

"Who doubtless sabotaged everything of value we could learn."

She waved a hand. "Yes, yes, codebooks, communications systems, and critical artificer tools. They might even scuttle the whole sub, have the last officer blow a magazine and go down with the ship."

"It's a risk," I soberly stated. "Vengeful Trosic curs. They fight for dominion while we fight for honor."

I felt her incredulity spike before she got herself under control. "Each of us fights for what she lacks the most," the countess murmured.

I gave her an inquiring but respectful look and emotional pulse.

"Ah, LoveBlood, an officer of the Armada is many things but she sees herself as upholding the will, the word, of her Grand Admiral. Before we rescued the crew, we would make a deal for the captain, or the senior surviving officer's parole. If she breaks that parole by scuttling her boat?"

I gasped. "They could do such a base thing?"

"Perhaps, especially if a Minor House were trying to take their ship. That would be an insult to their pride. And by letting them destroy any truly sensitive documents, we let them save face." The countess shook her head. "The only thing worse than these games of polite fiction atop a bloody-handed war is a war without them."

My tail curled in curiosity. The countess was a student of history, and not just that of Diyu.

"Do you think that will work? Letting House Trosier keep some of their honor?" I nearly spat out the last word.

"Possibly, or maybe these were the first shots of a Fourth Great House War." She knelt down. "I almost want to sign out my suit and try to get part of a patrol that'd be closer. But it's still being patched up. Optio Gibbs will insist on inspecting the Fleet Ritualista's work."

"You won't be able to get close; a Celestial has a pretty large restricted airspace," I noted.

Tail curling, she nodded. "Ah, there goes the lifting gantry."

We watched with the others as a long crane-like structure with several pairs of grasping arms along its length lowered out of the bottom of the Lunar Firmament. It was about a thousand feet long and the size of a mobile drydock.

A cluster of Ritual Plate was around it at a safe distance, helping guide it to the cleared patch of water. Slowly, inexorably, it sank beneath the waves

"The stabilization required to keep the crane, cabling, and airship from drifting off target." The countess shook her head, but I could feel her gratitude to me.

I quirked a smile. The strangest things impressed her. But the important part was that I had found one, and got to experience it with her. I had learned much from my time with the countess, lessons that would prove well for our future together.


++++++

I stepped outside into the hot, bright light and wished I had my hat on. I know the floppy sun-hat was seen by many of my squadron as a silly affectation, but it was practical. Still, I was a Volantes Prefect Centurion in command of an elite squadron and I did have to project the proper values of an Imperial Legion senior Centurion.

This was especially true for the two youngest members of my squadron. I had managed to train those nobles from cadets to combat Legionary Fliers and had seen them handle a hitch in a somewhat unpleasant posting. Though there were worse places to be than a FOB in some Crocelli jungle.

But they would learn that. Right now, I would let them enjoy being back on a well-provisioned base. Though, this collection of barracks, bunkers, hangars, runways, and tarmacs was not exactly a scenic place. It did have enough facilities, and a local town, that our baroness could have a belated birthday celebration. Which would double as the squadron's "going home" party.

I was a supporter of the cadet program. It was a great way to grow talent and build a cadre of Pilots who would have more training time that would serve them well when they were old enough for active duty. It was useful when, for whatever reason, the Pilot Corps found a need to expand or had a shortage of Flight Leaders.

However, I had opinions on the subject of letting such cadets join active service at a younger age. As a general matter, it undercut the primary aims of the cadet program, giving pilots more experience, and cut into the supply of new Pilots. Used en masse, it was like eating one's seed corn. Yes if one had to, one may avoid immediate starvation, but at the cost of the next year's crop.

And yet, giving a bare handful of cadets special dispensation to an early active posting would not make a statistical difference. The Imperial Legions needed about six hundred new Pilots every year. With that much grist for the mill, what did it matter if a couple cadets were dropped in early?

While my approval was not required, the brass horns did talk to me about the Countess and the Baroness. The propaganda value of her exploits aside, including her ennoblement, I could have stopped all this with a negative review on their performance.

I paused to glance up as a couple VTOLs came in and went to slow and land. I was approaching a cluster of buildings that served as an arcade. There were a few shops, a Legion and Fleet bank, a few proper restaurants, and even a couple guild-bonded brothels.

But I had trained DiamondDust. I might not know what she was capable of, but I had a better idea than anyone else. Which was why I made sure she was under my command.

I will not deny that there were other considerations. Being adopted by a duchess, one who was a patron of many pilots and had her own mercenary squadron and other interests meant I have to consider other issues when dealing with young DiamondDust. It was not without upside. Her innovative interpretation of regulations and connections meant I was able to upgrade my Squadron from half Polydora suits to all Polyxo.

Some amount of court politics was inevitable in the Legions, but it was a bit more acute among Ritual Plate Pilots. Part of it was that it was a high status position, both in rank, the lowest Pilot was a Centurion, and social status. There was a reason cadets were disproportionately nobles or had noble patrons.

The countess was a prime, if exceptional example, of how patronage, skill and glory could turn into lands and a title. Doors had been opened to her. Granted, much of that was due to her drive and ability, but being a countess, with all that entailed, and a bearer of the Preserver Crown gave her that extra push. Additionally, that DiamondDust had gotten the attention of multiple Librarians, and a Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance Officer gave her yet more avenues of networking.

Invidia was a snake, but in a way that was more honest than the Librarians who used masks of perky smiles. Adjusting the leather valise, I exhaled. That was not my concern. I had done my best to mentor Primus DiamondDust, I had a lot of help, and I felt the results were better than I feared. Though now, she was going off to Silvana where she could make yet more connections.

I did wonder if the assignments of my squadron, mostly Minor Houses south of Diyu, was in part to keep DiamondDust in active, respectable, but somewhat obscure postings. Helping protect a series of mines and a refinery complex to ensure that Standard Alchemical Products and Alecton Duraluminum had a steady supply of rare metals critical for the production of military enchantments was important but it was not something that would make you a darling in the capital.

I smiled. Well, from my experiences in Silvana, the quiet but important salons and gentlewoman's clubs would find our efforts here to be very useful. So-called Sword Nobles, mistresses of industry, and officers who understood logistics were the reason we were out here after all.

As I got closer, the smell of fruitwood and charcoal became more prominent. It was a pleasant contrast from the alchemical stink that was around most air bases. We had been spending more and more time here as my Squadron's term was ending.

We did periodically return to FOB EmeraldInferno, especially to give follow-up training to the Squadron that had replaced mine. They were skilled enough, and the lesson plan, complete with intel briefings, procedural updates, and training scenarios, DiamondDust had come up with should hold them in good stead.

My subordinate even had the good grace to restrain her prideful reaction when I informed her that the in-theater Volantes Tribune had agreed to propagate her training supplement to all the Legion Pilots under her.

It was another ribbon in her hair. And I was relieved that a nine-month slog of a jungle posting, including the mess last month when a simple merchantman interdiction turned into open combat with Trosic Ritual Plate, had not eroded Primus DiamondDust's adherence to proper procedure.

She had performed her usual best in splintering the enemy attack and, along with Mercy's Flight, stripping the strike force of escorts, though not without some trauma accumulation.

I stepped up to what was a reasonable simulacrum of a cafe. The chairs and tables were all mismatched and the sliding doors that linked the interior to the patio section were obviously reclaimed from another building. But the smell of coffee, of frying meat, a smokehouse, and pastries was welcoming. There was a metal drum oil smoker to the side of the building merrily puffing out clouds of fragrant smoke. Centurion Shadow was right, DiamondDust was here, but she was not alone.

The diminutive Pilot perched on a metal chair that despite being the smallest in the house was too large for her. In contrast, her companion's chair, the largest there in the ramshackle cafe, was too small for the massive shaggy-pelted Forest Person wedged between the armrests.

Ah, so she was saying her goodbyes to the Auxilia Scout she had befriended. I waited at a respectful distance as it seemed they were wrapping up. I wondered if it was a personal matter or something that dealt with how the Auxilia, Lares I believe he was named, lived within DiamondDust's county.

It was good that she was balancing the responsibilities of her stations. I was bestowed an honor name for gallantry, I was not burdened with any lands to administer, and that was something I was glad for. While my responsibilities to the House have increased, I was not eager to get further involved in the games of nobility.

However, I would not spurn the advantages such connections would bring. DiamondDust's wrangling and trading did upgrade my squadron. And those Polyxo suits were a considerable factor for me losing as few Pilots as I did in this posting. Her help with the squadron's training in general and the performance of Flight 3 in particular were also great benefits.

I would miss them.

Lares had stood up and I kept my surprise in as they shook hands. Physical contact, even for a farewell denoted a closeness that was... unexpected. Yes, DiamondDust was a terrifying little thing, but she was always within the letter of regulations. Moreso this was another bit of evidence that she did have emotions and could get close to people. That was reassuring; it was rare but there were some among our kind utterly without empathy. Many could function well enough in a combat role. That is until they did not.

She had bonded well with the other members of her Flight. That was not surprising. She had been a cadet with, and in the same ballet troupe as, the baroness. They had grown comfortable over time, and even the young Pilot from Amber Island did little to derail that. Even GreyDawn, an obviously sober, experienced voice, had helped gel the Flight into an effective formation. Though she did seem amused by the antics of the young noble Pilots. I know GreyDawn had made a fair amount of coin wagering on that and other actions.

Including the various schemes that DiamondDust came up with.

Maybe this was part of one of the countess's business plans. She had made mention of mushroom farming, fisheries, and other novel ways to get some extra business for her county. I did note a bit of trepidation on the Forest Person's part.

It was amusing; he towered over her and could effortlessly pick the little blonde demon up, and yet he was utterly respectful of her, and as cautious as if she were live ordnance. No... as if she were old munitions, improperly stored old munitions, that had started to sweat-out the more evocation-based alchemical components and had acids start to eat the stabilizers.

I could not fault him for his caution. But I still had a tiny smile as he gave a head bow to her, which she returned and then walked away, just slow enough to make it look like he was not fleeing her.

I gave the young countess a few moments to collect herself before I approached

Her wings fluttered with a bit of shock when she noticed me, but she recovered her composure admirably. "Prefect Centurion Quirinus, what can I do for you?" she said as she got to her feet and saluted.

She wore the tropical variant of her dress blacks. The shorts did give some relief in the heat, though combined with the tall boots she wore and the long-sleeved tunic with cuffs only folded up to mid-forearm did have her match the regulations perfectly. On her short frame, it made the young pilot look faintly absurd and more like she was a still a cadet or wilderness camper dressed for a jamboree.

There was a reason many RP Pilots took to wearing a field jacket over their inner flight suit even in situations where it was technically against regulations. On the upside, DiamondDust was no martinet; at a FOB or other deployable position she would dress practically, citing regulations allowing for readiness status. However that meant other times she would dress up with full polish, pins, and ribbons.

It was to her advantage that the Crown of the Preserver only needed to be worn as a crown with the most formal of uniforms. Under most other cases the award could be worn as a choker clasp.

Keeping a sober face, I returned the salute. "Just a moment of your time," I said, before flagging down a waitress and asking for some coffee for myself. Despite just having had brunch, the meat from the smoker was tempting.

"Of course," DiamondDust said in a professional tone that was at odds with her youthfulness and diminutive size. "May I ask what this is about, Ma'am?

I put the valise on the ground and pulled out a slim portfolio. "We both know you have a future in the Legions."

Despite her calmly sipping her drink, DiamondDust's tail flicked about wildly. "I serve the House to the best of my abilities."

I dropped the portfolio in front of her. "This is an informal talk so there's no need for false modesty." The waitress came back and gave me a cup. I bowed my horns to her and drank some of the coffee. Unlike the countess, I was fine with the mid-grade stuff which in this case was some surplused Fleet Issue.

She exhaled. "What is this about?"

"An offer for your next posting." I pushed the portfolio to her .

There was the most tiny bit of hesitation before she opened it. Her eyes scanned the text of the memo and looked at the seals and despite her emotional self control I could feel... resignation. "The Imperial War College," she stated, with a thoughtful aspect.

I sipped the coffee. The brass-horns thought that was a good step before promotion, and I knew that the countess had a couple Legates very interested in her development even without her family's connections. "Read on."

DiamondDust flipped to the next pages and found more similar memos. "My whole Flight is being reassigned?"

"Temporary secondment to the capital's garrison forces, including your Ritualista."

The blonde closed the folder. "I see."

"Do you?"

She gave me a wry look that belied far more experience than she should have, even counting what she had seen in the last two years or so. "Aye, Prefect. When an entire Flight is sent to Silvana to attend the War College and is kept together it gives a strong implication."

I simply gave a small smile. A Flight Leader and her three Pilots could be readily promoted into a cadre of Squadron Commander and three Flight Leaders. Eight line Pilots added to that would make a Squadron. It would require a degree of training, but it was a way to bulk out a Flight into a Squadron.

"I do wonder about GreyDawn. She is a career Volantes Centurion. Will she accept a promotion to Primus Centurion?" DiamondDust opened the portfolio and flipped to a specific memo. "Ah."

"Indeed," I smiled. "What do you make of it?"

"As much as that development track suits GreyDawn's skillset, it does raise questions."

I motioned for her to continue.

"Visha and LoveBlood will make good Flight Leaders. And GreyDawn's temperament is suited to the Aquilifer senior Centurion track. However..."

Noting her use of nicknames and the bit of emotional uncertainty she was letting out, I drank some more coffee. "Yes?"

"First, this means I would need a third Flight Leader. Hypothetically, I'm not being presumptive enough to think I'll be promoted and given a squadron command after War College." The blonde gave a pensive drink.

"I said this was an informal meeting." I snorted. "And your input would be key in finding a third Primus who would fit into your command style."

DiamondDust bowed her horns to me. "Yes, Ma'am. The other part is from two aspects. Namely, a squadron is too small of a formation for a Signifer, let alone an Aquilifer. Specialized senior Legion Flier postings like that are attached to Wings, Demi-Wings at the smallest."

I gave an amiable nod but let the silence draw out.

"The other part is that these orders keep me in the 23rd Imperial Legion Air Group and include mentions of continuing training and coordination with 5th Squadron and successor formations."

I emptied my cup. "Quite so."

"Prefect Centurion, should I be congratulating you on your pending promotion?"

My tail swished. "That may be presumptive. However, if I am to make Tribune, I would want my Squadron Commanders to be of the highest caliber."

"Even a Demi-Wing would have four to six squadrons..." She tapped the portfolio. Any resistance or resignation to her new assignment evaporated in the contemplation of fitting-out a unit. "And a Legion Demi-wing is a flexible formation that can supplement a lot of Landing Operations."

"And you have shown the flexibility of an advanced multi-role squadron, especially in the right hands."

Her expression turned calculating. "I can see the mutual benefit. If we assume the promotions and assignments happen."

"If we assume that." I pulled up the corner of my mouth. There was a lot she was not stating. Such as her star rising meant that mine, as her mentor, could rise as well. Not that I was not without my own patrons and honors. I did have some trepidation. Squadron Command had a good amount of tactical authority but was not overly burdened with paperwork and politics. On the other wing, a Volantes Tribune was firmly a staff position under a Legion's Legate.

However the part she was, oh so politely, taking extra care not to state was that continuing to be my subordinate meant she would be both under my supervision and aegis. And that her inner circle was being retained to form the core of her own squadron while also expanding her base of support. Combat losses could affect that. Though a capital posting would be relatively safe.

If anything, it was more likely that I could be killed in action. Death was a part of being in the Imperial Legions. Hence, the dissemination of training skills and the promotion and encouragement of leadership talent. In war redundancies were vital. And while the Countess was a very skilled pilot and officer, that merely meant she was a more flexible cog in the House's war machine. It was simple pragmatism to extract the best value out of her talents.

DiamondDust sipped her drink. Nodding, she smiled, her blonde hair bobbing about. "It's a sensible plan. It is not like I could languish in an obscure posting, not with... everything." There might have been a ghost of a wistful tone in her voice.

I noted her trepidation. "Are you concerned about a rear echelon posting not being exciting enough?"

She snorted. "Unlike our baroness, I'm no war maniac; I can appreciate a boring billet."

I gave her an indulgent smile. She was covering up her.... trepidation with a stoic resolve.

DiamondDust shook her head. "Even if I were... wouldn't giving me training and more authority just encourage things?"

"Perhaps," I allowed. The War College would do more than just supplement her training; the instructors would evaluate her command capabilities. There was a chance they might not like what they found.

The blonde looked at her coffee and closed the portfolio. "At least I'm not being rushed."

I snorted. "You're still on track to be one of the youngest squadron commanders. Not counting battlefield promotions."

The countess gave a tired chuckle. "Well, the Legions do have me for no more than sixteen more years."

"And they're going to get the most out of it," I assured, not believing for a moment that the little blonde demoness would simply take an honorable discharge and walk away from all this.

End Chapter 15

Things are looking up for Tauria... right? She's getting a nice rear posting in the imperial capital. She should be happy.

Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Readhead, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.

Special thanks to Readhead for the chapter title, it comes from Ensiferum's song One with the Sea, where the chorus and the overall lyrics are rather on point.

And we're allllmooooost at 500 watches. And I've got a couple things in the wings for that. Thanks to everyone who's read, commented, contributed omakes, art, and even just watched. I didn't think my niche little story would get this far, but I'm happy that you've all enjoyed it.

Update: I've been going through a revision project for this story and all preceding chapters have had some editing cleanup done to put them to a bit higher level of polish.

 

[PhantomReaper]

Things are looking up for Tauria... right? She's getting a nice rear posting in the imperial capital. She should be happy.

Click to shrink...

The only reasonable reply to that statement is that the capital better have proper defensive installations and have them be up to date because it's about to be invaded.

 

[Sunshine]

The only reasonable reply to that statement is that the capital better have proper defensive installations and have them be up to date because it's about to be invaded.

Click to shrink...

It'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Sure, this chapter did just show the class of ship that the Imperatrix uses as her personal flagship.

And there's been talk (especially from the sidestory) about the type of forces garrisoned in Silvana.

 

[RogueInquisitor]

So, with Tauria and her flight going off to the Imperial War College, what are their plans for lodgings? The obvious solution is to stay in the dorms/barracks, but they do have options. I would suspect Duchess SilverFlight has a home in the capital, which could be available to Tauria and her comrades. VioletBlood's family may also have one, but she probably isn't going to leave Visha and Tauria alone together more than she has to, so I doubt the nobles will both stay at family homes. Sister Clementia might also have some contacts in the capital that could help. Or, instead of family, SilverFlight's friend, the one who started the Heavenly Home maid café, may be able to help.

Hell, we might even see the various options being debated on factors like proximity to campus, potential cost, access via flight, the view, proximity to cafés with decent pastries, etc..

 

[Sunshine]

So, with Tauria and her flight going off to the Imperial War College, what are their plans for lodgings? The obvious solution is to stay in the dorms/barracks, but they do have options. I would suspect Duchess SilverFlight has a home in the capital, which could be available to Tauria and her comrades. VioletBlood's family may also have one, but she probably isn't going to leave Visha and Tauria alone together more than she has to, so I doubt the nobles will both stay at family homes. Sister Clementia might also have some contacts in the capital that could help. Or, instead of family, SilverFlight's friend, the one who started the Heavenly Home maid café, may be able to help.

Hell, we might even see the various options being debated on factors like proximity to campus, potential cost, access via flight, the view, proximity to cafés with decent pastries, etc..

Click to shrink...

Ooooh. An excellent question! This actually something I've been working on in ch16.

And you deduction is correct. And that such a situation, picking the Duchess's townhouse (which can act as accommodations for Tauria's other sisters and nieces when they visit) and that having her Flight there would avoid jealousy between the two Vs. And GreyDawn wouldn't be one to turn down free housing.

One factor is their Ritualista. And while they could have Legion-provided housing, the Duchess has her own Ritualista and has a hotel where she puts them up. And the four Pilots can pool their housing allowances to help with that.

 

[Sunshine]

From PlayerError404 we have this wonderful sequence of Optio Gibbs helping Tauria into her Polxyo RP Suit.


Step 1:


Step 2:


Step 3:


Step 4:


Step 5:


Whole Sequence:

Full Size


I really like this sequence as it shows the weight of a Ritual Plate suit and between Tauria's expressions and how the completed suit looks, I think it really shows a great setup of the concept.

 

[Sunshine]

From ScittyKitty we have this great pic of Visha, VioletBlood, and Tauria ( It seems the 2 Vs by some means managed to get Tauria into one of her outfits from back when she and VioletBlood were in a ballet troupe.

Or maybe it's a custom ballerina outfit. Either way the countess is not too pleased.


Fullsize


I've got some good news as well. Ch16 has been written (~15k words) and I'm going over it and having it be edited as we speak.

 

[Sunshine]

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Return Verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic thingy.
By Sunshine Temple

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

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

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku

Temple of Ranma's Sailor Senshi Seifuku • Index page

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 16: Pride and Punishment


Silvana, the City of Trees, residence of the Imperatrix and the pulsing heart of BlackSkyvian culture and the arts. The House's largest city, and its greatest. The region, city and adjacent provinces are collectively garrisoned by a full Coetus Malleus of twenty legions, including Corpus Incursio Reliance. A garrison befitting homeport of First Home Fleet

In Diyu, it is said: all railways lead to Silvana. A take on an older aphorism, but no less true for its derivative nature.

Sitting astride the Phlegethon river, the city has considerable dockyards. From the riverine ports, barges laden with trade goods could easily access Lacus Superum, one of Diyu's two great interior lakes, and from there go to any other port on Diyu.

Splayed indolently across eastern portion of the Romwell Alps, much of Silvana rests atop the carefully sculpted terraces lining the meandering river valley. Downstream of the Phlegethon, to the west, the land flattened out into now-drained alluvial plains. The flatlands were filled with vast stockyards, Fleet-ports with titanic hangars, sprawling rail yards, airship-fitting and fabrication plants, and various other manifestations of BlackSkyvian industry.

Along with the great southern city of Vordurium and our biggest offworld city, Mursa Victrix, Silvana is one of the key economic, industrial, arcane, logistical, and military pillars House BlackSky stood upon.

More personally relevant, it was also nearly ideal as a rear-echelon posting. Yes, the city was busy, and the press of that many people in a close area took some getting used to after my prolonged postings in the Diluvian jungle. However, besides the crowds, a Silvan posting also granted access to the city's plethora of restaurants, bookshops, and a multitude of other diversions. Furthermore, my assignment was absolutely plum. Between studying at the War College and leading my Flight in cadet evaluations and aggressor training, I would be able to sharpen my mind and my skills without any risk to live and limb beyond training accidents. The possibility of participation in the development of the next generation of general scrying upgrades even presented an opportunity to further distinguish myself away from the front lines.

In short, Silvana was everything I had ever dreamed of in a military assignment.

No matter the organization, I wanted to provide value, obtain job security, and advancement in status. Additionally, in a military organization I also wanted to minimize physical risk. My new assignment easily fulfilled all of those requirements, at least when taken at face value.

Which brought me to my conundrum as I sat on an early fall day in a cafe sipping some coffee with a platter of nice nutmeg turnovers.

The cafe was a favorite early morning spot of mine, a perfectly place to take a moment and watch the city wake up before going to the War College. Though, to be fair, few of the cities on Diyu ever truly went to sleep. Even Bovitar was large enough to have a considerable nocturnal population.

Right now, I was having a midday nosh. Between the coffee and the various puff pastries, the fruit-filled turnovers were a delicious temptation; this was a nice place.

This posting was indeed a welcome reprieve, but as Prefect Centurion, soon to be Tribune, Quirinus had cautioned, excelling here would merely bring me more status, responsibility, and physical risk.

Looking through my paper, I sipped with a frown as my tail flicked.

If I were to become a Prefect, in command of a squadron, all Piloting the always scarce advanced Multi-Role Ritual Plate suits, with said Pilots trained to the standard that Quirinus knew I was capable of... well, it did not take a great deal of imagination to see that a new Tribune would love to have a Squadron of such flexible, capable trouble-shooters.

But that was in the future. I could, and would, prepare for that, but...

I should also focus on the present. The international news was, as usual, a mix of obvious bluster and saber-rattling with talk of ominous alliances and mysterious trade negotiations in the background. Nothing of immediate interest, thankfully.

I smiled when I saw Visha walking down the winding cobblestone street. She adroitly picked her way thought crowd of pedestrians, side-stepping the occasional raptor-pulled cart or gently chugging Sterling-engined delivery vehicle. Engine power or even equines were more common for heavier loads, but the feathered sauropods were useful for pulling something more select that required a more intelligent beast of burden. They filled a role similar to a dog pulling a cart, but with greater intelligence.

I lifted my mug to her in a casual salute of greeting as she sauntered over to me. I scooted over so she could join me in the shade of one of the poplar trees that lined the side of the cafe's patio.

A waitress came up as she sat down and with a knowing smile asked if Visha would have the regular.

"You seem happy," Visha noted, sitting down as she nodded to the waitress, who scurried away without even bother to write down my partner's order.

"My operations class had a war-game today. I got to play the Intel Tribune for the first scenario and the Logistics Tribune for the second scenario." My tail may have swished.

"Both roles that play to your strong points," Visha said, smiling happily at me.

"The instructor said as much." I knew it would be next to impossible to go from a Volantes specialty to something in the logistical branch but there were slots for Volantes Tribunes who were more on the logistics end of RP operations. Legionaries who were highly skilled in both roles were in demand. And my Logistics instructor seemed to also be impressed with me.

Though knowing my luck, I was less likely to get a position as someone helping develop and implement component integration, and more likely to end up as a Volantes Tribune supporting a Corpus Incursio's Ritual Plate Air Groups.

As I'd pondered - definitely not brooded no matter what VioletBlood had said - Visha's tea had arrived and she was now sipping it with evident enjoyment.

"How was your morning?" I asked, trying to reignite the conversation.

"I helped GreyDawn and our Ritualista check out the simulators," she brightly replied.

"Are we good to go?"

My wing woman's tail flicked. "We have nine that are fully operational. The bulk of the rest need some parts swapped out and spirits propitiated. The remaining two need a full workup and maybe replaced."

"Has Gibbs looked at those?" I asked.

"She thinks she can harvest the parts for one to get the other to work," Visha admitted.

I drummed my fingers on the table. "What about the projection systems? Can we run a scenario?"

Visha nodded. "And the Ritualista say we can get fourteen simulators operational in four days."

Smiling, I nodded. "Good work. That will allow us to get some training."

"Do you have a lesson plan in mind?"

I gave a vicious smile.

"Well... they do have to learn, and better to take lessons in the simulator than in battle."

I gave an ironic smile. "And we are dealing with some hot-headed noble Pilots."

Laughing, she gave a happy nod to the waitress, who had just returned again, this time dropping off a plate of rye toast with pear butter. Visha paused and took a couple bites. "So, the Feast of DarkStar is in two weeks."

I looked out over the city. "Mother Clementia did mention there were a few ceremonies of note."

"We are in the capital."

I patted her hand. "Don't worry, I'm sure we can do something."

"And VioletBlood?"

"I'm sure she's got plans for me." I sighed then caught myself. "I mean I'm sure she'd arrange something entertaining enough. And she's invited you too."

Visha shook her head. "That's not it but.... you're still worried about her?"

"My birthday is coming up next month." I was still very young for a Pilot, but being one at fourteen was less of an aberration as being one at twelve.

Her tail swishing, Visha finished the first piece of bread. "You think she'll get some extravagant gift?"

I sighed. "LoveBlood does want to impress me. And she'd got a lot more access to luxury items and frivolities in the capital than she does in a FOB in the middle of some DarkStar-forsaken jungle.

"You think she'll go too far?"

"I wouldn't say that..." Visha ate some more of her lunch.

I gave her a look. "What had she planed?"

She looked bashful. "I don't know, but... she does want you to come over to our quarters."

I gave a slow exhale. We were not lacking for accommodations. In addition to the Legionary dormitories for Centurions, my mother Clementia and my own reputation meant I could request placement in rent-free housing supplied by the Church. Luddy, my Duchess's friend, also had a residence in the capital and was more than willing to give me the run of the place, in light of what I had done for her

All these options had, of course, their own sets of pros and cons. From proximity to the War College, and other faculties, to the various favors both spoken and unspoken required in lieu of rent, not to mention which coffee houses were nearby. However, I had ultimately taken the one option that allowed me to bring my whole Flight with me. I had done so hoping that it would allow me to circumvent anything that might cause jealousy between my two Vs.

The four of us were currently staying at the "townhouse" my Duchess had in the city. The accommodations were quite comfortable; the baths while not palatial were very well-appointed. GreyDawn as a long-serving Legionary was not one to turn down a free cot, even if her staying there might have fed into rumors.

The building had plenty of space for Duchess SilverFlight's daughters, and granddaughters to stay in when visiting the capital. At the moment, my Flight had the place nearly to ourselves. We also had pooled our housing stipends and used it to supplement our Ritualista's own stipends.

Most of them were staying at a long-term hotel frequented by many of my Duchess's personal Pilots and their Ritualista when SilverFlight's mercenary squadron was in Silvana. Trading on my Duchess's name, I had secured a very reasonable rate, which was almost covered entirely by our combined stipends was ready enough to arrange.

I might have paid out the balance. It was a prudent investment to ensure harmony among the women under my command.

I finished my coffee. "And does the baroness request my presence at my convenience?"

"Well, you have History of the Second Great House War in three hours, and VioletBlood has statistics class in four hours."

"Probability," I corrected. "And she has rhetoric before that." The course load VioletBlood and Visha were taking was a bit less intensive than mine. Seminars were only a small part of what we were being evaluated on. GreyDawn also had her own lesson plan for her senior non-commanding Centurion track.

"It can't be that bad then. If she's only got a couple hours, how involved could it be?" Visha offered as she ate the last bite of her meal.

After flagging down our waitress, I paused. "That's a valid point. She can't spring some fancy event and whatever she wants to give me is almost certainly mother's house. It must be tickets to a spa or retreat. Nothing too substantial, at least"

Visha shrugged.

After I paid for our meals, we left the cafe and went down nearby alley that let out onto a tree-lined avenue, with tall trunks framing both sides of the broad street. Walking in the shade, Visha paused every now and again to indulge in a moment of window shopping. I coughed a bit after she spent a full minute peering at a leather clothier and accessories boutique.

I eyed some of the items draped on velvet in the display window. At least her attention wasn't on the corsetry adorning the dressmaker's dummy.

"Anything catch your eye?" I carefully asked.

"You are teaching a new crop of cadets," Visha lightly noted.

"I do have a reputation as a disciplinarian but not quite... that level," I shook my head at the implements on display. Though some of the saps and coshes were functionally appealing, others were just... excessive fripperies.

"Maybe that's what LoveBlood is getting you," Visha said as we resumed walking.

"I already have a vine-staff." I snorted. Corporal punishment was not exactly rare in the Imperial Legions. Not that I had been particularly shy about such corrections in my previous life either.

We waited between some bollards for the street traffic to clear so we could cross the plaza..

"What if she's getting you something more fun?" Visha teased while we crossed over to the plaza.

"Visha!" I cried as my tail went straight at the implication.

She gave me an innocent look as we crossed the plaza. In the center was a red stone statue of a broken dragon, cast prostate on a massive plinth and splayed wide over the stone, water jetting out of its numerous wounds. An imperious black marble statue of the Imperatrix stood over the fallen wyrm.

The plinth also doubled as a bit of a diving platform, as many broodlings and other young folks had clamored up to the top and had jumped into the fountain pool that surrounded the statuary.

The Imperatrix statue was pristine but much of the plinth was worn smooth by generations of playing broodlings.

It was a good thing we had just eaten, as the scents wafting from the food vendors setup around the fountain were quite tempting. I confess I did purchase a few loaves of freshly baked bread.

Visha looked at me with some amusement as I tried to juggle the large warm bag. She had taken one as well. "You're too kind for the cooks."

"It helps. Now, they won't have to send a scullery girl out to get bread," I said when we went up the stairs to the funicular station.

"It still shows that you think of your servants. Just like always." Visha looked down the inclined tracks as they went towards the river. There was also a good view of the stone massif that was the Palace. Though it was hard to be in a part of the Silvana and not see that cyclopean city within a city, the seat of BlackSky's power.

As much as the Celestial class airships, like the one in the air above us to the north, were a mark of House BlackSky's imperial grandiosity, the Palace was another such giant edifice. With about two hundred levels, it was less of a structure and more modified geography.

The base and the bulk of the Palace was carved out of a great mesa-like uplift that had been encircled by water. The higher levels were built out of material that had been excavated from the structure constructed to give the impression of a titanic vertical city.

The cars of the funicular train were trundling up. Their bright green lacquered paint glittered in the sunlight as we waited, many steps away from the edge of the stepped platform. If Visha noticed that habit of mine, she did not comment on it.

"They're not my servants. They're my mother's," I stated as we boarded, after most of the other people who had been waiting at the station.

The funicular trundled upslope. I looked out the window and studied the city. It was a blend of architectural styles over the centuries. True to our Roman influences, there was an underpinning of classical imperial style. However there was also a fair bit of Victorian ironmongery and glass vaulting and even some stark Art Deco buildings contrasting with baroque structures filled with bas relief and other ornamentation.

And threaded all throughout the grand city were the trees: glens, parks, arboreal slopes, and long rows of leafy colonnades. Compared to the provincial capital I had grown up in, Silvana was a far busier and more bustling place. In many ways it was like Bovitar but magnified in power and potential. There was a sense of mercantile possibilities, heady almost libertine excess of choice.

Khemi, the Luxon capital, might have more opulent options for stupefaction and indulgence. The Alecton city of Mourning, may have more gleaming stone edifices to commerce and industry. Andromachin Myr may be the true crossroads of Diyu and the most cosmopolitan.

But Silvana was the crown jewel of our Imperatrix's wisdom. It was not perfect, but there were far worse places and Houses to live. At least here there was opportunity, someone did not have to enlist as a Janissary to have a hope of founding a business. This city could be an ideal place to find meaningful work after I got out of the Legions.

I could feel Visha's amusement. "Enjoying the view?" she asked as the funicular slowed to a stop. Ours was the next one.

"Just thinking."

"Oh?"

"About opportunities. You know... after." I gestured down to my uniform. "There's a lot we could do here."

The funicular car started moving again, and Visha smiled.

"Maybe set up a consulting firm on Ritual Plate tactics and systems. Or we could do research." I watched buildings pass by as we gained altitude.

"That would be a good business to run while raising a family," Visha said, practically dripping with innocence.

The bag of bread nearly slipped from my hands. I stilled my tail. In part I was concentrating to not brush past anyone else. By Diyu standards the train car was a bit full, by those of my first life it was nearly empty. "Yes... I suppose heirs would be a requirement."

"For you and the baroness, yes," she cheerfully agreed while she enjoyed the view out the window.

"I can't leave you out," I blurted. "That is..." I exhaled and tried to keep from flushing. "That is all in the future."

"Of course," Visha stated. "It's against regulations to get pregnant while on active duty."

I tried to give a flat look. "Even if not, we are far too young."

My wingwoman gave a little smile. "LoveBlood is patient; she's waited this long after all."

I tried not to pout. Nobility came with a price, and I knew an arranged marriage could just well be part of it. I was the youngest daughter by far, so my value was less... imposing for my Duchess' political considerations. However, that gave her more flexibility. And my Duchess would be more than happy to have me with someone I was... happy with.

"Her maturing is not all positive," I muttered.

House BlackSky took a dim view on forced marriages. Any bride could object to an arranged marriage, and their concerns would take primacy. In my case I had enough personal status and honors that I could make quite an issue. And yet... why cause such a scene?

Not when my Duchess could have me with someone I had been.... close to since my cadet days, and get the Barony of Lilla as a bonus.

Visha smiled as the car slowed to our station. "I wouldn't worry about it," she assured.

Following her, and the other passengers, out, I huffed. "I suppose it does help her family issues as well."

In the light of gas-lamps, we exited the platform and went up a series of steps to street level. Each of the city's funicular lines had a constant slope. That meant that some stations were elevated, others were below grade. The Jade Crescent Avenue station was deep enough that it could pass for a subway stop.

While I enjoyed the smell of fresh bread, it was a still bit of a relief to get back into the open air. At least out under the sky, I could at least open my wings up a bit more, letting taut muscles stretch that delicious extra half inch.

I had lived in many different cultures each with their own conventions for public rail transport. Silvana was cosmopolitan which meant that, especially in warmer months, fashion options were extremely flexible. However, the societal rules against casual, even accidental, physical contact with strangers applied year-round, and were highly respected.

While the rules regarding stray touching were universal, the fashion sense of Silvana's denizens was far less so. The variety of styles worn on the street would whiplash between esoterica seemingly sourced from the more "fashionable" parts of Tokyo to the gowns, suits, and uniforms, including my own, that befit those engaged in the Imperialist Great Game, or the industrialists and workers supporting that endeavor. All without mentioning the prevalence of complicated leather, latex, or silk garments or even those made from even more exotic materials.

I followed Visha's gaze as she watched a couple passing us as they glided into the station. The ratio of skin covered by glittering jewelry versus carefully-sculpted minute leather straps was impressive from a sheer structural engineering aspect. Anchoring and discreetly supporting that much material was an impressive feat in and of itself. Furthermore, the nearer of the pair had her amber hair up in an intricately shaped coiffure of bejeweled excess. The carefully sculpted pile made her gem-adorned horns, gilt hooves and talons, and ornamented tail seem almost understated.

Her companion, with her hair shorn save for an emerald-colored topknot, was dressed in sleek lavender and silver silks tied with a sash. Overall, the rode seemed like blended combination of a kimono and a toga. Her ebony features were severe but confident. Clearly, the couple were ready for a night on the town.

Or given the hour, a very... opulent lunch.

"It's never dull in the capital," Visha said with maybe a bit of wistfulness as she gave the amber-haired woman one last look. Then the insolent girl smirked at me. "See something you like?"

"The other woman looked a bit like Octavia. I was wondering if they were related," I coughed.

"Swimwear is very common in Amber Island. Even when you get away from the beaches, the style lingers," Visha replied happily.

"Crazy demons," I smirked as we went down the avenue. We were in a more upscale district. Or, at least, the presence of the reserved businesses ensconced in the stately storefronts of stone buildings were anything to go by, the area was upscale. The fact was reduced by the presence of the seemingly omnipresent food vendors hawking street food from their carts.

Managing our burdens, bread and briefcase, we continued down the avenue for a well-trafficked block and turned to cut across an oblong park with a grove of impressively old beech trees with immense trunks that split into broad canopies. Most had benches that took advantage of the shade.

There were families playing and more than a few people enjoying the sun. I smiled a bit seeing a drow reading under a dark blue sun parasol not far from a Forest Person who was napping with his back to one of the beeches. A slightly less shaggy dog was curled up at his feet.

Visha chuckled. "You could get a pet."

I shook my head as we left the park. "It wouldn't be fair. Any dog would have to stay with family when I deploy."

"Plenty of units bring mascot animals to forward positions."

I tilted my head to her as a family of humans passed us to go into the park. I wondered if they lived around here or were from further up-slope.

"It could help morale," Visha offered

"Gibbs says she has her hands full enough keeping my suit operational."

"You have other Ritualista," Visha countered. "Maybe IvoryTail could help."

I shook my head. "She prefers cats."

"And we can't have a cat as our Flight's mascot," Visha said with excessive sobriety as we went down a side street. I almost asked her what she had against cats, before noting the mischievous gleam in her eye. Instead of rising to her teasing, I focused my attention on our surroundings. It was a very quiet and rather exclusive street, lined with truly impressive architecture that could only fit in a very broad, very expansive, definition of the word "house".

The houses here were... well, at the end of the street was my Duchess's "townhouse". It was not the largest nor the most opulent manor house on the small lane: that title was contested by the marble-encrusted edifice that served as the Silvan residence of a territorial governor and a faded-ivory baroque pile that belonged to a board member of Imperial Blimp and Freight

The dark slate narrow-windowed house of a Standard Alchemical Products heiress were also in the running for the top spot, albeit via a more subtle approach. More than the main house, the heiress's clear interest in outdoor entertaining was reflected in the various pools, the grotto, the portico, and the intricate grounds surrounding the estate, and the same features gave her bid for top billing a less ostentatious air.

Compared to all of that architectural tail-measuring, my mother's grey and copper four story residence was almost dowdy in its somber color choices and unadorned walls, as mundane as an urban mansion could be.

"It's great that your mother agreed to have us all stay here." Despite the appreciation in her tone, Visha managed to keep her amazement in check as we approached the townhouse. I wasn't overly impressed myself; I suppose one could get used to anything, given time and exposure. As far as billets went this was by far the most comfortable I'd ever had in my military careers, although it lacks a certain something in terms of practicality.

Thankfully, despite her periodic awed gasps, Visha managed to keep her eyes firmly in her skull, and still managed to maintain situational awareness. It was always pleasant to have a trustworthy and competent second by my side.

Comfort aside, our current location in a very exclusive part of the capital did not mean that we could assume there would be no threats against us. It did not seem likely that other high status functionaries in the interlocking machine of nobility, industry, and armaments would have anything against a more militant noble faction. But it might happen.

Best to stay wary, and always vigilant.

"Mother SilverFlight would say the expense of such an investment would be wasted, if it were never used. Having her family and their..."

"Retainers? Subordinates? Flunkies?" Visha offered one term after another, her smirk widening with each "helpful suggestion".

"Friends," I retorted, firmly settling on a degree of comfortable ambiguity on. In this situation, ambiguity was my strongest shield. I knew something of office politics as well as the drearily similar politics that surrounded staff and field officers, but noble politics were still something of a mystery to me. The tune might be similar, but the steps of the danger were subtly different. Until I found my footing, best to stay vague and free of commitments.

Visha and I strode up the cobbled entry drive and across the front yard, immaculately landscaped but far more restrained than those of our neighbors. The broad front doors opened ahead of us, and a pair of maids in the purple livery of my duchess bowed as we climbed up the short flight of stairs before ushering us inside.

As the maids fussed over us, I handed the bread bags we had picked up over the shorter of the pair. The slender, periwinkle skinned maid gave me a little smile as she gathered up the still-warm loaves.

Freed from my deliciously crusty burden, I turned to the candle-lit alcove just to the left of the entryway. Inside, beneath a silver four-pointed star in the center was a statue of my eldest sister, Invidia. The one who had died before I was even born. Also in the alcove were many other statues, including a pair I'd been told represented my birth parents. Bowing my horns slightly, I brushed a finger over one of my earrings while whispering a quiet prayer, in honor of their memories and to show respect for my adoptive family.

In my first life I had done my share of Shinto rituals and showed obeisance to the kami. It was less an act of faith and more one of social and cultural cohesion. The difference here was I knew that kami, or some spirits, were quite real and it was prudent to respect my new family's traditions, especially given my reputation as a custodian of holy relics.

The older maid, her cap and lapels ornamented with strands of gold thread, waited patiently for me to finish. "You are too kind, Countess."

"It's just..." I coughed, "I mean, I was raised by the Sisters of Our Hallowed Lady."

Both maids smiled, before the taller of the pair continued. "Not that, your piety is lovely. No, it's that you'll go out and do errands and bring in things."

"It saves the scullery girl a trip," I shrugged. It cost me little in terms of effort, energy, or time, and I was already living off the Duchess's money, sot he cost for the bread was essentially trivial.

"Practical things," the older maid stressed as she adjusted her glasses. I idly noted that a strand of her glossy bottle-green hair had escaped from the simple, prim bun that was her habitual style.

"The baroness is... enthusiastic," the younger maid said, her vague compliment covering a barbed critique. Which was a rule when it came to interacting around servants: they were always listening.

I nodded. "Well... LoveBlood tries."

"Oh, she does," the younger maid laughed.

Her superior shot her a look and the younger maid curtseyed her way out of the room, presumably sent away to the kitchens. "Yes, the Baroness is already in residence and Centurion GreyDawn is still out."

"And what is VioletBlood up to?" I asked.

"I can't rightly say." The senior maid adjusted her glasses, her tail swishing with emotion. The subtext of the maid's thoughts on the young baroness was quite clear. "But she did insist that your company would be... appreciated."

I shifted my gaze over to Visha, who gave me a very innocent shrug paired with an almost offensively sunny smile. "It seems a little early for a birthday gift, but..."

"I see." I sighed. "Thank you Lilly," I gave a respectful bow to the maid, carefully inclining my horns.

"Shall I have you announced, my Lady?"

My tail stilled as I sensed danger looming in my near future. "LoveBlood didn't request a special room like the little theater or the solarium?"

Lilly thankfully shook her head. "Nor did she reserve the baths. I believe that she is either in her quarters, or in... the guest apartments."

I nodded, ignoring the maid's mildly distasteful tone. The staff had expected me to take a more... sumptuous set of quarters, befitting to my station. Instead, I had opted for a single bedroom that opened onto a common room, one that half a dozen other similar bedrooms also connected with. It was still the most luxurious bedroom I had used in any of my lives but perhaps a bit humble for a Countess.

Giving a final little bow, I motioned for Visha to follow and we crossed the townhome's foyer. By the standards of a Duchess, it was rather understated, though, I was certain that every bit of statuary, painting and piece of furniture had a story and pedigree. Now that I was inside the aristocratic fold, it increasingly seemed to me that most noble families had a streak of magpie hoarder to them. They squirreled away endless trinkets and trophies, and held onto them for generations, to the point where the intrinsic value of the object was secondary to the sheer fact that it had been in the family's possession for so long. Parried with the long natural lifespans of demons, and the sheer quantity of knick-knacks sourced from multiple worlds exploded

"Well... Maybe this isn't about your gift?" Visha did not sound very convinced as she broke the brief silence.

We went up the sweeping stairs. "Or maybe it's something that needs to be fitted to me and has to be adjusted before it's finished." Despite my matter of fact tone, I shivered slightly, imagining what sartorial horrors I would have to endure in the name of friendship. This was just the type of staircase LoveBlood, and my Duchess, would love to see me descend wearing some puffed-up collection of ribbons, bows, laces, and skirts. Truly, I was a pawn, subject to conspiratorial forces.

We stepped off the stairs at the second floor landing. Conveniently, the guest rooms were mostly on that floor, along with a study, the library and the games room. The Duchess's personal chambers and more opulent suites were on the third floor. Above those were the observatory, rooftop garden, and roughly half of the servants' quarters, with the other half located down on the first floor by the kitchens.

As Visha and I proceeded down the hallway towards the common room, we both started to frown. I stretched my wings slightly, shooting an inquisitive look towards my wingwoman as we neared the common room's door. The baroness's presence inside was obvious; I could hear her humming merrily to herself through the closed door. Or perhaps not to herself.

"I feel it too; she's not alone," Visha whispered as the baroness's chipper tune suddenly stopped. I could faintly hear the sounds of two or more people shuffling around in the room.

And the person she was with.... did not feel like one of us.

Presuming I would be faced with a seamstress or tailor, I bypassed my typical politeness of knocking and I pulled the door open.

"Countess, you are so hard to surprise!" VioletBlood pouted. She stood by one of the leather wingback chairs that faced the window, a fluted glass in hand. Several more glasses, a full tea service, and a collection of pastries were on the round oak table that served as our venue for card games and most meals.

And demurely standing before the table was a maid. She was not one of my Duchess's. Yes, her livery was purple but only on the ruffled accents. The bulk of her outfit was black, with a white apron and top.

It was possible that she was just a maid who I was personally unfamiliar with. This seemed unlikely, since I knew all of SilverFlight's personal maids as well as those on the staff at her Eastern Province home, and those here at the townhouse.

More to the point, the maid with fluffy apricot-colored hair was the wrong species. Her pointed ears and surplus of tails were not exactly common features among Diyu demons. While many of my kind could be said to be "fox-faced", with lean features, few of us had literally vulpine ears or multiple fluffy tails. Though, the maid was pretty enough to be one of our kind.

Indeed, the maid was a kitsune. She was also taller than me by half a head and had an air of experience behind her polite, if amused, stance. Majestic, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, I could see how many would find the vixen to be very winsome and alluring.

The fox-folk were an uncommon but hardly rare people in House BlackSky. I had been a bit amused when I first learned that some of the creatures from my first life were not so mythological. But, why was she here?

"Who is your friend, Baroness?" Visha asked. "I don't think we've been introduced."

VioletBlood gave a tiny pout of distaste. I doubted my bloody-minded baroness would consider any servant a friend. "This is Reinhild SunShower."

"Charmed." I slightly bowed my horns to her. Why would VioletBlood hire a maid? Was it a coincidence that she had a Germanic first name? Combined with the Japanese connection...

I gave VioletBlood a cautious look. How much did she know? Was this "gift" some sort of devious plot? She was an aristocrat. I knew the only staff she had in the capital was a fiscal manager assisting her seneschal, though she was more an advocate for the Barony of Lilla than a personal servant to the Baroness.

"The pleasure is mine. I am happy to serve," SunShower curtsied and then poured me a cup of coffee.

I thanked her sincerely before taking a sip. If she'd brewed the coffee as well as she poured it, she was skilled indeed. I could see VioletBlood taking on extra staff for a special event but, as I glanced around the room, it did not seem like anything special was going on.

"You're not excited?" VioletBlood's tail curled.

"Should I be?" I blinked.

The baroness threw her hands up. "How picky can you be? What's wrong with her?"

"Pardon?" I then looked to Visha for support, but she gave me an innocent look. "I mean, LoveBlood, she's nice enough, but I'm not sure why you need a maid today."

"She's for you!" VioletBlood stomped a foot. "She's a gift for you."

I stared. "You can't just give people, people!"

VioletBlood gave a haughty laugh. "Countess, you need a personal servant. And you do like dogs."

Careful to not spill my coffee. I studied the kitsune, she seemed capable but... After a moment, I shook my head. "I don't need a maid! And, VioletBlood, you can't call her a dog. Haven't you learned yet how unwise it is to insult people with access to your drinks? Perhaps I need to administer some remedial etiquette lessons..."

VioletBlood paled, but rallied admirably quickly. "She's better than a dog, and she's a veteran of a full term in the scout Auxiliary!"

I sat down at the table and Reinhild SunShower immediately went up and moved my cup, put a saucer under it, and placed a plate with some pastries in front of me. They were some of my favorites.

"She was in the Legions?" My experience was with the large Forest People. I knew they could be devastating but stealthy scouts. Kitsu were purportedly even harder to detect and had effective magics of their own.

"The Auxiliary," VioletBlood sniffed.

I made a sharp motion with the blade of my hand to silence the baroness. "Go on... Miss? Is that correct? Miss SunShower?"

Still standing just to my side, she bowed to me again. "I most recently served with the 67th Infantry Legion Valentinian. The bulk of my service was based around Eastern Province. I am still in the active reserves. But I have served in several offworld campaigns and many minor House theatres. I heard about your time in the jungles of Crocelli."

"How long ago were you there?" I inquired.

"About two decades ago. At the last uprising on the eastern edge of the Alecton concession. Our Legion was doing a southern flaking action for Corpus Incursio Merciful's landing. It was... complicated. The enemy expected our attack from the air, but not our ability to bypass their defenses overland."

I nodded. The fallout from that battle contributed to the reorganization of House Crocelli, the formation of their Interior Confederations, and the various movements against that minor House.

She smirked. "No woodlands are denied to us."

"A regular jungle fox, eh?" I lightly asked. The Crocelli Fox was a sleek, large-eared canid And despite having a water-proof double coat, always looked a bit bedraggled out in the heavy rains. Not that I had very many opportunities to spot one of the sly foxes.

"We might have gotten a nickname or two." Her grin became toothy. "The Diluvians may still tell stories about us."

"And how are you finding the City of Trees?" I asked, pointedly not wondering if Miss SunShower did work for CSR in helping spread rumors and fears among the enemy populace.

"Oh very busy, but as you say, the trees do make it more comfortable."

"Would you care to sit?" I asked.

The maid frowned.

"Don't push her," Visha admonished as she sat down next to me.

"I knew you'd like her!" VioletBlood cheered.

"She's not yours to give," I replied firmly. VioletBlood really needed to learn about how unwise it was to insult servants to their faces, and I had no desire to be caught in the blowback when the tiny vengeances began. Perhaps she was insulated, or even coddled, by the servants who helped raise her as they took pity on the orphaned baroness and bore her slights without retribution. However, how she treated subordinates, in general, was my responsibility, especially if she was to be, one day, promoted to Flight Leader.

"Ah, but you are wrong." The baroness triumphantly placed a thick stack of papers onto the table, just in front of Reinhild. The folio was trussed with purple ribbons and a big floppy bow.

I glanced at it, sighed, and started reading through the first few pages of paperwork.

"Don't worry, it's a standard contract. She can quit at any time. Though, since I am paying for her first two years, if her resignation is with cause I will be cross at you for making me pay out the severance bonus." VioletBlood chattered on as I scanned subsequent pages. It looked like an employment contract, just as the baroness has stated.

"Why?" I paged between the duties and compensation sections, before looking over at the seemingly happy, but very lethal, fox-woman. I knew a bit about staffing costs. I had my own county to run and while my hirelings were not personal servants they were also not inexpensive. LoveBlood was paying a premium.

"You deserve it," the baroness assured.

"I will do my best to be of service," the maid assured me as her fluffy tails wagged.

"Why do you want this job?" I clarified, sipping my coffee.

"It is less risky than being a Scout. And I have served as a lady's maid previously."

"I managed to poach her when her previous employer left Bovitar to work on some colony," VioletBlood added. "That's why I'm doing this now instead of your birthday."

"I am in the Legions, I could be deployed anywhere."

"I didn't resign, Ma'am. My previous mistress let all of her staff go. She would be hiring all new ones at her next location."

"Is it just the premium pay? What is your interest in this position?" I inquired. If she was going to be my employee, I wanted to know what motivated her. Being motivated by money was fine and all, but I wanted to be sure.

"You have an impressive record."

I lifted an eyebrow.

"Not the flying stuff. But that you connected with people in your county and the Auxilia. The Forest People have their flaws, but they are good judges of character." Her tails flicked about as she spoke. Their movements were hypnotic, but to me the constant shaking and wagging betrayed a hint of apprehension.

"And?"

"There are opportunities," she admitted. "If you forgive my presumptiveness, but unlike many young nobles you look to your future, even past your military service. I appreciate that long term planning. I may be a widow and my children are grown, but I still look in on my family."

I smiled. Ah, so my talking with Lares about business opportunities in my county had paid off. It was good to see an entrepreneurial spirit. "That is good to hear, but you are aware that it will be many years before I can leave the Legions?"

Her smile was sharp. "I am very familiar with counting the years and months until one's term is up."

"I knew you'd like her," VioletBlood said with a smug, toothy smile as she leaned forward before sitting down at the table and waiting for the maid to serve her.

"Yes, she's charming; I don't mind her." I nodded to SunShower then as she poured tea, met the Baroness' gaze, my expression flattening. "To be frank, I'm more concerned about you at the moment."

VioletBlood blinked.

I decided to be direct. "You... got me a kitsune... with a German name."

Visha smiled reprovingly at me. "You mean she hired a maid for you."

"Uh... yes." What had I said? Was it that different? Was I objectifying people like LoveBlood?

VioletBlood's confusion grew. "Does her name matter?"

I stared. Crazy noble demons.

"My father named me after his best friend's sister. They met in the Auxiliary," SunShower diffidently explained through a playful smile.

"I can get you a different one," VioletBlood pouted, her tone equal parts sullen and confused.

I frowned at her. "Another one?"

"She's right here, VioletBlood," Visha said, a mild amount of irritation in her tone. Even Visha's patience wasn't endless. "You can't act like people are interchangeable."

"But they are, dear Islander girl." VioletBlood sipped her coffee. "We are. That's the whole point of being in the Legions. Yes, we may have special skills. But within our occupational specialty and our flight certification we are supposed to be replaceable. Otherwise how could an officer replenish losses?"

I sighed. She was not wrong, at least in a military organization. "And you think that applies with household staff?"

"You don't?" VioletBlood seemed baffled. "I'll grant Miss SunShower has a set of skills that will be a bit hard to find again, especially on short notice but, the Legions have had many Auxilia over the years."

I forced myself to take a drink of the admittedly delicious coffee. She was not necessarily wrong. From the perspective of the BlackSkyvian Imperial Legions, we are all cogs in the machine; some of us happened to be more expensive to replace. The baroness had lost enough family to learn that lesson, and for her part was very proud of being a particularly useful cog. This was not unique to the Legions; the military of my previous life operated the same way, as well as the company of my first. That was the way of large organizations.

A chuckle escaped my lips, and seeing my cup refilled by a maid, my maid, I laughed again. I had no place to look down on LoveBlood for reaching such a conclusion. I was no idealist when it came to banners, institutions, or causes. Logical things like economic freedoms and individual liberty were what mattered.

And the contract was beneficial to Miss SunShower with terms and obligations biased to her. I could not punish my baroness for taking my lessons to heart.

"It is a very thoughtful gesture," Visha assured VioletBlood, doing the yeoman's work of keeping the conversation flowing through my moment of introspection.

"And the background checks for a replacement would cause some delay," VioletBlood nibbled on some strudel. "Not to mention another expense."

I sipped. "Ah, yes, she would be living here."

"And have access to your and your effects. This is where her being a Rorarii means her file is still up to date and she can be checked," VioletBlood explained.

I kept my expression carefully stoic, only expressing my irritation internally. Wonderful. Private detectives, as well as much of law enforcement, beyond the basics was subscription-based. Legion Counter Intelligence knew I had a maid servant. I suppose that didn't really make much of a real difference. My social status was a matter of public record and both the Librarians and the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance knew of me.

In fairness, I had plans to leverage those networks. The Zioxan "mercenary" Samoth Rodswor was still out there, and she had sacrificed a whole Diluvian assault to try and kill me. I had enough experience with people out for familial revenge to know that remaining passively reactive would do nothing to help me with the situation.

"It is a prudent precaution," SunShower agreed. "I will have a broad set of responsibilities."

At that, I flipped through the contract and reread a few sections. "There's a hazard pay rate." I sighed. "LoveBlood, do you expect me to bring her on a deployment?"

"Not to a FOB, no," the baroness replied, complete with her somewhat haughty laugh. "But there's always a chance fighting could break out. Why do you think I got you a maidservant who could fight?"

"The equipment and arms allowance is generous," SunShower happily stated.

"Good thing you're so thorough," Visha told VioletBlood.

She smiled at my wingwoman. "It's not done yet, our countess still needs to sign."

I flipped to the end of the contract. SunShower and VioletBlood had already signed and sealed it. My kitsune passed me a silver pen and had started to heat a purple wax-stick with a blue flame that came from a fingertip

I signed; she dripped some wax onto the appropriate spot on the document. I then unclasped the Preserver Order award that hung at my neck and pressed it as my customary wax seal.

VioletBlood clapped. "Now, don't worry, I'll get you something nice for our birthday, nowhere near as expensive as your real gift of course." She gestured to the kitsune who curtseyed.

"You really don't have too," I said. I'd needed an aide, so accepting Reinhild wasn't too big of an issue; more staff would only get in the way. "You've already gotten me a valet and handmaiden."

"Don't just use her as a personal secretary and to take dictation," VioletBlood replied with just a touch of insinuation, "She has far more skills than simple stenography."

I flicked one of my bangs to the side, trying to remain as diplomatic in my reply a possible. "Be that as it may, you've been more than generous, LoveBlood."

"Nonsense," Visha interjected. "Maybe you could help me pick something?" she asked the baroness.

"Ah, that would practically guarantee that we'd pick a proper gift, between my fine taste and your second opinion." VioletBlood made a satisfied noise as she leaned back in the chair and seemed to take things in.

"Your expertise in such things is very helpful." Visha's skills at flattery remained impressive.

"We do have to help take care of our Countess," VioletBlood tittered

My tail stilled. While I was happy to see them getting along so well, at times their cooperation seemed somehow ominous.

"She does push herself too hard," Visha nodded. She was about to help herself to a pastry, but my maid moved in to fill her plate.

"And now we can have another set of hands to help!" VioletBlood gave a broad smirk as she watched SunShower busy herself.

I swallowed. "You do know she's my maid."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," the baroness laughed.

"Ma'am," SunShower demurely asked.

I flicked my tail, trying not to let my annoyance show in my face. I suppose she had a role to play. "Yes?"

"If you'll allow me, I can familiarize myself with your schedule. Perhaps you could put aside some time to help me learn your preferences and methods as well?" Her tails wagged. "I want to make sure I can get your uniforms exactly how you like them."

"Why don't I get you in contact with my chief Ritualista?" I responded, only half joking.

"If you think a letter of introduction with Optio Gibbs would be helpful, then I can draft one for you," the kitsune said diffidently.

"Sure, and I might as well inform my seneschal and my mothers."

She nodded. "I can get started on the missives. Now, my rating as an accountant is as a novice and while I still have a measure of sensitive document access, I am not 'read in' to the ways of the Volantes. Are those areas that I will need to get training and further certification?"

"Isn't she perfect for you?" VioletBlood gushed, her voice a purr, all but openly patting herself on the back in self-congratulatory approval.

I slowly sipped my coffee. I would need to get to know her better, but if my maid performed as advertised then I would have a very capable assistant. It felt like some sort of Faustian bargain, but what was one more? I was a demon due to making a deal with an archangel, everything after that was just an outgrowth of that.

I smiled at her. "I think that will suffice for now. I will let you know if I find you... insufficient in any way."

++++++++++

"Ah, Primus DiamondDust. I shouldn't be shocked to see you here," a Tribune said as she walked up to my reading table. The main library of the Imperial War College had more than a wide-ranging collection of reports, documentation, journals, and other publications.

They had a small, if efficient, reference collection of historical, contemporary, and offworld weapons, mostly small arms and equipment. Some could even be signed out for evaluation purposes, but that often required approval from an instructor.

"Tribune ShadowWhisper," I moved to stand and salute, but she waved me off. The tall woman had short silvery hair, pale skin that seemed almost translucent, and ivory wings that did have transparent membranes. Taken together with her white Fleet uniform, she had an almost spectral look. Her coloration was vaguely similar to IvoryTail, one of my Ritualista, but the Tribune was more lightly built.

She carried a dark purple valise and had placed it on the table. "Working on anything interesting?" my supply and logistics instructor inquired.

The War College's Library was a rich source of academic and study assets, ranging from big things like print shops, conference rooms with full projector suites, simulation and computation time, to simpler items like study carrels, copiers, meeting rooms, and a hall that was a series of broad flat tables.

That last asset had proven useful for group work, unrolling maps, or, in my case, studying multiple books at once.

"Just collating some of the reports on House Elena's production of scrying components versus the projections on their Rital Plate production numbers. I'm suspicious of their claim that they have that many Mokosh suits in production." Our rival on the northern border, Elena, was the most populous Diyu Great House and the only one with a larger economy and population than ours.

"Their version of our Occultia?"

I nodded. "It's their most expensive suit. That is, depending on were one puts the research and development cost of their Volos." I pointed to a couple budget tables I had worked up. "It's a tossup between a theatre grade scrying suit and a highly-veiled stealth air superiority suit."

ShadowWhisper looked over the tables. "Hmm... the development of the Marzanna?"

"It seemed prudent. Yes the Volos is an outgrowth of the Marzanna, but the latter is a competent enough air superiority suit. At least now that the relatively weak warding projectors were fixed, and the whole training issue."

The ghostly tribune's grey eyes studied the figures. "Are you trying for some extra credit in my class?"


"No, Ma'am. It's just a personal project."

The Fleet officer's lips went to a thin smile.

"It's a shame we can't have you in Logistics," Tribune ShadowWhisper chuckled as she opened her valise and handed me the report I had submitted yesterday.

I gave the grade and comments page a quick glance as I bowed my horns. The previous empire I had served had become extremely skilled with rail-based logistics and had a good hand with forward supply. House BlackSky also had a good rail network, and had considerable experience with fleet-based logistics, both air and sea-based fleets.

My tail stilled as her words sunk in. "Ma'am?"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not talking about poaching you for the Fleet. Though with your wings you would look lovely in white." ShadowWhisper's tail swished. "I could see you being fantastic at running a Logistics Cohort. But..." she shrugged.

I kept my composure. A skilled Ritual Plate Pilot, especially one being positioned for squadron command would be very unlikely to be transferred to Logistics. "Thank you Ma'am, it is an important skillset, and one I want to refine for my future."

It was easy to hide my disappointment. After all, that was hardly a safe rear echelon position. Centered around two dozen Thalia utility trucks and three dozen Nymph light transports, a Logistics Cohort was built for forward supply. Yes, there was a group of Ritual Plate and Centuries of Legionaries to provide escort, but providing direct combat logistics was hardly my dream position.

The Tribune chuckled. "Yes, a shame. More than a few Volantes House Legates have gotten their ground combat and supply training by operating a Logistics Legion."

I tried not to stare. A Logistics Legion was based around four Logistics Cohorts, two Umbra VTOL heavy Long Range Insertion Cohorts, and two Triarii IVF Armor Cohorts. Including the Legionary HQ assets of Ritual Plate, heavy VTOLs, Artillery, and other assets, a Logistics Legion had thousands of tons of ground cargo capacity and nearly a thousand tons for airborne cargo, plus strong escorting assets in terms of thousands of Legionaries, a Legion RP Wing , four troops of armor, and multiple artillery batteries.

And this Fleet officer assumed I wanted to be in command of such a unit, and worse to use it as a stepping stone to a rank that was equivalent to a Corpus Incursio level of command.

"While I appreciate your vote of confidence, and I will serve the Imperatrix to my abilities, that is very flattering," I said, glancing over. Ah, I had company, well that Centurion had a habit of being early. "But I am focused on being worthy of my promotion to Prefect."

"Of course, Countess." The fleet officer smiled. She gave a slight bow of her horns. "If you would like to share your latest project, I would find it interesting, and I might know some people to forward it to who might be as well."

Ah. That was the game. Clearly, ShadowWhisper was interested in networking with my mother and was working her way to asking for an introduction. It made sense, my mother had many guild and commercial interests that were suppliers for both the Imperial Legions and the Household Fleet. Those would be useful connections to a Tribune who specialized in logistics.

I gave a gracious nod. "I would appreciate such an offer."

"Lovely, see you in class, Primus," she nodded and walked off, her tail slowly swishing behind her.

After a moment, my subordinate walked up. GreyDawn shook her head, causing her wavy flame-colored hair to swish about. "You do have a knack, Ma'am," she remarked, offering a salute.

I waved her off and gestured for her to take a seat.

"Part of having a Duchess for a mother," I shrugged. "People try to curry her favor all the time."

Her amber eyes stared. "That may be true, but she was trying to get your favor."

My tail went limp. "That's absurd. I'm just some Pilot." I continued before she could counter. "And even if we play the noble card, I've got a border-region, provincial county."

GreyDawn flashed her fangs. "She thinks you're destined for flag rank, House Legate DiamondDust."

"That's not funny," I growled.

"Ma'am, it kind of is," GreyDawn countered.

I rubbed my forehead. I had not reached flag rank in my previous life, but I had gotten close. The Legions were a bit different in that there was a considerable gap between Tribune and Legate, apart some semi-official gradations of Tribune to help bridge the divide.

The time for keeping my head down was long past, like being awarded the Crown of Preserver past. Honestly, it had passed when I had become a ballet soloist. "Please don't joke about that."

"Who's joking?"

I grumbled.

GreyDawn smirked. "Tribune ShadowWhisper may be very serious." She sobered. "You should take care with that. Plenty of officers use War College to brush up on their networks."

"And you know this because?"

"Centurions do too!" she laughed.

"Can we change the subject?"

"Of course Ma'am, do you want to talk about your cadets? Or the Elena RP production project? Oh! I have been writing with Octavia. She's been asking about you."

"You have?" Octavia had been in my Flight before Visha had transferred in. Last I heard, Octavia was still with Mercy's Second Flight. "How is she doing?"

"Doing well. She'd got engaged."

"Congratulations, she's a lucky girl." I tapped the table. "I wonder if we'll be able to make it."

"Oh, they haven't set a date yet." GreyDawn waved it away.

"Still, I should send a gift."

GreyDawn's eyes sparkled but she nodded.

"No comment?"

"What could I say, Ma'am?"

"That I would have my pet fox pick a gift out for me?"

"Perish the thought," GreyDawn shook her head. "I would never think such a thing."

I gave the taller woman a level glare.

"Honest." GreyDawn shrugged. "Octavia was one of yours. You would personally pick her gift."

I nodded, a touch reluctantly, at that.

"I'm sure you'd have your fox do the actual mailing, but there's nothing untoward about that."

Organizing my notes, I sighed. "Did you have fun last night?"

"It was an entertaining spectacle."

I suppose that was a way to put it. I was not too fond of blood sports, but with our healing capabilities gladiator games were no worse than boxing or martial arts bouts. Hopefully. "Did you bet on the winner?"

She chuckled "No, Countess, I didn't bet on last night's gladiator bout. "

"Oh? why not?"

She helped me pack up a couple books. "It's fixed, Ma'am. It's as choreographed as one of your ballets. Well with more fake blood."

Ah. So it was all a spectacle in a preformative meaning. Still... "You've never seen how March over the Resh River ended?" The last act required me to wear a blood-red leotard with bits of white accents, and a crimson wig. Mother Clementia said I looked like DarkStar dressed up like that.

GreyDawn laughed. "Fine, more real blood and bruising than ballet."

I snorted. "Tell that to my feet. But point taken. So, what did you wager on?"

"Ma'am?"

"I know you, GreyDawn. You wouldn't go to some sporting event, especially a fixed one, if there wasn't some sort of juicy action."

She gave me a neutral expression before slowly smiling. "I might have had a few side bets after leaving the amphitheater. Plenty of folks have their blood up after seeing a good match, even if it's fake."

I tilted my head. "Do I really want to know?"

"Maybe when you're older," GreyDawn laughed.

There was no pouting on my part. "That is... acceptable."

"You're remarkably patient, most young women can't wait to grow up."

"I'm no fledgling. Besides, I know what'll happen when I get older." I organized the books and put my ledgers into my bag.

GreyDawn laughed. "Did your fox explain things? Or did you finally realize what the other two members of our Flight are after."

My expression darkened. "I am well aware of the baroness' machinations."

The older woman just smiled.

I huffed. Competent subordinates were valuable, and that meant a wise commander gave them some latitude, especially if they were not undermining your authority. And GreyDawn was a well of experience. "Are you volunteering to do comms training for the cadets?"

Her tail flicked. "The noble flower of BlackSkyvian youth do need training," she carefully stated.

I laughed. "Yeah, they're like my nieces, way too eager, clueless and pestering me for stories."

"Ma'am, are we talking about your nieces who are younger than you?" GreyDawn's tone was utterly respectful.

I did not give an exasperated exhale. "I think it's worrying that the fantasies of little broodlings are indistinguishable from those of new cadet pilots."

"The ones with imaginary tea and stuffed animals? Or the ones of daring do against sinister enemies of our Great House?'

I snorted.

"You have to give our cadets some slack. Not everyone can be as..."

Glancing over to her, my gaze hardened.

"As experienced as the baroness was at that age," GreyDawn completed.

"Most of our students are older than LoveBlood was when she was a cadet."

GreyDawn pointedly did not say that most of them were older than I was right now, let alone how old I was as a cadet.

My wings stretched a bit. "In a way I'm jealous of your simple pleasures and plain ambition."

"Ma'am." she stated neutrally.

"I'm serious. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a solid pilot and having a comfy cot and warm grub." My tail swished. I tried to have such plain goals, but military life ended up going... too well for me. "We both know the burdens that come with all of the awards and decorations, as well as the problems caused by those who hunger desperately for shiny pins and ribbons."

"Ma'am" GreyDawn stated with what was almost approval. "Not everyone can be sober and mature. Most Pilots are very... aggressive."

"That's why cadets are under long-term evaluation for skill and temperament before being put into active service." Closing my leather bag and piling up the books I would be returning, I stood up.

GreyDawn took most of the books to carry under her arm.

"No remark? No sidelong or skeptical sigh?"

"And not respect your authority?" GreyDawn noted. "DarkStar forbid."

I snorted.

"Prefect Quirinus had trained you and the baroness for a year before your fight south of Narvos. I didn't have that many hours in a suit before my first combat deployment."

"You were also half a decade older than me." We walked to the library's return desk.

"And I was a cocksure, arrogant greenhorn brat who was in way over her head," GreyDawn shook her head as she put the books onto the counter.

I frowned but got them checked back in with the librarian and we left the library and went out onto the main quad of the War College. "You? A greenhorn?"

"There's a reason Quirinus assigned me to your Flight. I may have matured over the years but I do remember what it was like to start out with talent but no experience." GreyDawn smirked while I shook my head.

++++++++++

I sighed as SunShower fussed over my hair and uniform. Pulling at my wings with a professional, direct touch, the kitsune checked over my feathers, fussing any that were less than perfectly smoothed. I twisted and stretched a bit at her touch. Preening was a bit of a pain, but compared to membranous wings they were a bit less likely to tear.

"Is this necessary?" I asked after she completed her work.

She gave me a vulpine look as she straightened the Preserver Order award at my neck. "With the impression you have to make? I'd suggest you wear your crown."

I looked up at the taller woman, her bushy tails swishing. "I never actually ordered a Preserver Crown."

"Eventually your mother will do it for you, either one."

I shivered a bit at the idea of Mother Clementia and through her, the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady, commissioning a Preserver Crown. They might even have one in a reliquary somewhere, though that the Church had not offered to make me a custodian of one, like they did my earrings, was suggestive that they either did not have a crown, that it had a current bearer, or they did not want to bestow such at thing to me. Regardless, there was some flexibility in the exact design of a Crown of the Preserver, and one made by the Church, or one of the major churches of the House, would make my purported piety even more blatant.

Reinhild chuckled as she poured me a cup of coffee. "Fair. I can see why you're not keen to be so blatant."

I sipped. "I'm not that worried. I've done far riskier things."

"Physically," my maid agreed as she put a thermos into my valise as well as a small bag with fresh turnovers. She also looked down to confirm my papers were there. Smiling, she pulled one of the pastries out and handed it to me. "Don't get frosting on your uniform."

"I know how to eat without getting it on my clothes," I replied tartly as I nibbled on the blackberry pastry.

Nodding, she gave me a final critical look.

"I'm fine," I assured her. Reinhild had washed my hair and had overseen my laundry. After the sparring match this morning I was happy to have the time to bathe and get my hair cleaned. Though the latter really meant she interfaced with the household staff. Being fussed over was both frustrating and relaxing. Though I had gotten used to it to some extent by my Ritualista and the times my Duchess had me dress up for some function or another.

Taking the empty cup from me, she handed over my valise and a yard-long staff of polished vinewood, a fairly sturdy swagger stick.

"Far be it for me to counter that," the kitsune bowed her head to me. "I am neither a noble nor a pilot."

"But?"

"I have spent time working with the Legions. I know when faced with fresh fish, Centurions tend to relish breaking them in, especially if they are haughty and have ideas." Her eyes glanced at my staff.

I smiled. "You're concerned I'll go too far?"

"I can't speak to your training methods, my Lady," she diplomatically stated.

My grin expanded a bit. "I suppose I am paying for your expertise."

Ears perking up, her tails swished. They were very fluffy, almost tempting.

"Yes, LoveBlood is paying." I waved off.

"Perhaps some diplomacy... at least until you gain their measure?"

I flashed my fangs. "Ah, but you see, GreyDawn and my baroness are taking their measure right now." I looked at the grandfather clock ticking in my room. "They should be getting out of the simulators right now."

I gave another sigh. "I wanted to be there, even as an observer, but I had an exam."

"Close combat skills need to be evaluated," she gave her own sharp-toothed grin. "My Lady, have you been told when you'll be going to Advanced Evasion School?"

I tried to give a casual shrug but my tail had slowed. "In a couple months. I've gone through the basic course in Bovitar." Evasion School was all about teaching a pilot how to survive if she got shot down behind enemy lines. Including such things as survival, field medicine, avoiding enemy patrols, escaping capture, and linking up with friendly ground units.

"During my time in the Auxiliary, myself and other Scouts would assist the Instructors by playing the aggressor side," she brightly said.

I finished my pastry. That made sense, scouts, both Kitsune and Forest People, were very good at tracking and stalking. Having a Pilot have to evade such pursuers...

Her smile widened. "I would be more than happy to help give you some preparatory training. Provided, we can fit it into your schedule."

My smile turned glassy. Being chased in the forest by kitsune was one thing. Being chased by my own maid was.... Well, I would not turn down training. I would just have to find a way to make sure people wouldn't talk... much...

I bowed my horns. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Pencil in some time for that training in my schedule."

"Of course, my Lady," SunShower said as she opened the door and then followed behind me. As we made our way through my Duchess' townhouse, she had a couple quiet words with the other servants before seeing me off at the front door.

I exhaled and made my way to the funicular station. I had a training session to be debriefed on and a cadre of cadets to introduce myself to.

++++++++++


I strode into the lecture hall, my boots ringing on the hardwood floor. The tiered room was fairly small, but even so, the cadet squadron failed to fill the first couple rows. Instead of standing behind the lectern, I hopped off the small stage and stood by the table where the three members of my Flight sat facing the cadets.

"Volantes Cadet Optios, I do apologize for not being in person for your first training evaluation," I said, making sure my voice echoed through the hall. "I regret not being there to evaluate your performance in person."

They were attentive. A few seemed to be a bit awed by me; a few were embarrassed; a couple were sullen. All needed to be watched.

I picked up one of the reports Visha had put at the corner of her table and made a show of paging through it. I already knew the records of the dozen or so cadets in front of me and the debriefing had been quick but thorough.

"Ah, you were flying Polydora Mark Sevens in the simulators. My my, I was trained on the Mark Five. Time flies." Sticking my vinewood staff under my arm, I tossed the report back onto the desk.

I looked over the cadets. They were so young; the eldest was sixteen. Which at least gave me some time. None of them should be put into active combat, maybe they would get enough training time to live. They were in cadet uniforms, which were the same black as Legionary ones but had a green trim.

"From what Centurion GreyDawn said, I was worried the only way I could make you made into something useful would be to serve you as lunch for some Fleet pilots."

I gave them a grin that was full of cheer to show I was joking.

"Let us begin with the positives. None of you broke the suits the Imperatrix was gracious to loan you, or..." I gave a sharp smile to five of the cadets one after the other, "the ones your mothers purchased for you. You also managed to avoid breaking any of the simulators by shattering your tethers or having your Zephyr actually accelerate you. Mostly." I added, locking gaze with the pink-haired, long-horned cadet who sat front and center.

"Any other positives of note?" I asked my Flight.

"They were able to get into their suits and could tell their left boot from their right boot," GreyDawn stated. "They know which way is up and down. They're very good at finding the ground."

I made note of which of my students got heated at a commoner daring to mock them. Cadet Optio Lavish RoseTalon, the pink-haired Senator's daughter, was among them.

"So, there we have it." I swept my arms around the room. "Collectively, you all spent... how many hours on private tutoring? How many aurei spent on trainer suits? Not exactly an efficient usage of time, money, or Ritual Plate."

I went over to the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. "The expense in Ritualista alone," I theatrically murmured, my back to them.

Turning to face the young demons, my smile returned. "I have good news, cadets. You're now in the Imperatrix Legions, and we will not waste BlackSky's money in having you play brave, heroic warriors."

"Is this because we lost?" Lavish demanded, her voice cutting over the hall. She blinked, realizing the breach in discipline.

I paused to let the silence linger and slowly put my mug down on the table. "Cadet, do you have something you wish to say?" I asked, striding over.

"You've got more experience than us, your Flight ambushed and cut us apart, and then you had missiles come up from the ground and...."

I stopped before her. "Yes? It wasn't fair? Or maybe they cheated?" I flipped out my staff and the cadets winced at it. Well, that would not do. I used it to tap the gem at my neck. "I did not earn this by playing fair. And our enemies won't; they'll happily trade a missile team to take one of you out. The scenario was not impossible, you could have won if you had focused on the Landing Zones and maintained a coherent formation."

The daughters of Senators, Guild Leaders, Nobles, Legates, and Navarchs, these girls were the cream of the capital's young fliers. Or at least the ones that had been dumped in my lap. A bit of fear seemed to creep into them. I tapped my staff on the desk in front of Lavish.

"The problem is not that you are bad fliers. On the contrary." I looked around them all. "Oh no, if I was looking for someone to compete in a race or to do an acrobatics show, I would be happy to have any of you. But I'm not looking for racers or acrobats. I'm not even looking for a ballet troupe. A ballerina knows how to move as part of a team.

"Just because I could outfight any one of you one on one is irrelevant." I was being generous here. As they were now I could take them out by defeat in detail, and it would take a massive weight of numbers to stop me. "You should be more ashamed at how abysmal you are fighting as a Squadron and your piss-poor reactions to ground fire. You were fighting as a rabble not as a team."

I gave them a warm, toothy grin. "However, once you have a remedial proficiency as a team then you may, in your copious free time, request some one on one aggressor training from myself or one of the other instructors."

Lavish's green eyes smoldered but the short jade-haired cadet behind her lifted her hand.

"Yes, Cadet Pulivia."

"Ma'am, we tried to fight as a team, but we were just thrown together. And... not all of us listened..."

I kept the same sharp, toothy smile on my face. "Yes. We'll start our lessons, shall we? There is a reason the Legions and the Fleet train our Pilots to a uniform standard. Yes, obviously, there is better cohesion with a team that is experienced flying together. You will not always have that luxury. This was a test of the standards to which your tutors trained you. Similarly, the chain of command is vital for establishing clear communications. Consistent protocols and training are vital in case of combat losses, you have to know what to do when things go wrong."

I lifted my staff back up. "That is why we train you. So when everything goes wrong, when you find yourself without leadership and out numbered, you don't shatter into a bunch of panicked, pointless last stands."

Staring at me, Lavish lifted her hand. Pulivia, in the second row, had started taking notes.

Going back to get my mug, I nodded.

"Are you saying we're not strong enough warriors?" Her pride had been wounded, but since it had been someone with my record, and station, who had inflicted the blow, she was still striving to keep her anger in check.

I sipped my coffee. "What use do I have for warriors? The Legions want professionals. I reviewed the footage. Some of you are very deadly in a duel. That's why my Flight used numbers, position, and firepower to ensure such a dogfight didn't happen."

"But you made Ace all by yourself!" the purple-skinned daughter of a Guild Leader burst out.

I gave her a withering look. "Yes, as a last resort on a night when everything failed. Sending a twelve year old - oh I'm sorry that was a couple days before my birthday - into combat with just a sword and some fireworks is not a tactic any Great House should aspire to, not if they want to stay a Great House."

She wilted, I exhaled, and continued. "If you saw the propaganda reels of my actions and thought that was a situation to emulate, then you learned the wrong lesson."

"We shouldn't try to be as skilled in close combat as you?" Lavish asked after getting approval to speak.

I shook my head. "Do not measure yourself against me. Not yet. The goal is how you perform for a given mission, as a group. There is a time for individual heroics. Usually, it's after everything else has gone wrong and you are alone and will die unless you are very good and very, very lucky. We train to give you tools to limit such an eventuality."

I ruthlessly quashed my awareness of the hypocrisy of that comment.

"I do not offer you glamorous training where you will become a Mistress of the Air able to take out enemy champions and Ace of Aces." I sipped my coffee. "But I can teach you the book. I can teach you how we fight and why we fight. And then... maybe... just maybe once you know the book, once you understand why the book is the way it is... then you can start to think about how to break the rules."

There was almost a sense of disappointment among the young fliers, but a few were intrigued, and now two more of them were taking notes.

"It is not enough to know how we are training and how we fight. You need to know our enemy's doctrine. How they conduct operations. What we know of their equipment. The formations and tactics they use. To defeat the enemy one must know the means by which they will try to achieve victory."

The wind seemed to be knocked out from under their wings. Good. These were girls who were not used to being told no. And, if anything, discovering they had the fairly rare talents required to operate a Ritual Plate just made their pride worse.

"Maybe it was how I was raised. At the orphanage we didn't have much time for fantasies of gallant knights of the air," I loudly mused as I went back to my Flight's table. "Maybe that was just a commoner thing."

Refilling my mug, I turned away from the cadets. "Tell me, Baroness VioletBlood. You had a proper noble upbringing. And clocked in a good number of hours before you became a cadet. Did you have such fantasies?"

"No, Ma'am. My training was on practical things that would improve my combat performance," VioletBlood stated, a sneer in her voice.

I pointedly kept my back to the cadets as a couple murmured something about "jumped up provincials". Lavish was telling them to shut up. Interesting.

Idly glancing at my staff, I let my tail swish. "Visha, what is the allowable penalty for insubordination?"

"It ranges from loss of privileges, to loss of pay, time in the stockade, and flogging," she answered smartly.

"Now... Cadet Optios. Will there still be chatter when I turn around?" I glanced back and just smiled.

The hall went silent. I put my vine staff down at the table and walked towards them with just the cup. "You can call me a martinet. You can make all sorts of unkind words about my parentage, heritage, class, and upbringing. You could even do the same about my Flight. However-"

I stopped before their seats. "If I hear such talk. If my Flight hears it. If the other instructors hear it. If you undermine my authority. If you go against the Imperatrix. I will bring the appropriate charges and punishments."

I saw a few resentful faces and a couple that seemed disbelieving that someone like me could talk to them in such a way. DarkStar help me for being saddled with this assignment. I would rather be teaching a bunch of orphans, girls someone like my Duchess had discovered. At least they would be more likely to listen and learn.

"Please, if you feel I am unfair do complain to my Squadron Commander, or the Commandant of the War College, escalate to House Legate AshRain herself for all I care. Or... I suppose you could whine to your mothers and then have such august personages take umbrage on your behalf.

"I believe any of you willing to try such a thing will find the results... illuminating." I sipped my coffee. That took the fight out of most of them. It was a trivial bluff to call. Oh, I would get into trouble if I whipped the cadets without good cause on jumped-up charges, but as long as I had my paperwork in order, and could prove that the rod was indeed used to prevent spoilage... the higher ups would be happy enough.

I chuckled. Like I would be so uncreative to merely flog a subordinate.

"Now, if one of you is willing to take your grievances in a more direct and... honorable means. Then please note I will be obeying the letter of the military regulations with regard to duels. As the challenged party, I will get to pick the weapons used and I will endeavor to limit damage to any Legionary property."

"But Primus, don't you own your Polyxo suit?" VioletBlood innocently asked.

"Yes, yes I do." That was a bit of a bluff. While I still retained ownership of the suit, the Legions had replaced many of its components and paid for its regular maintenance and upgrades, to Mark 16, over the years. Still, as that wear and damage had happened while serving the House, I still retained ownership even if a considerable fraction of the suit was composed of parts different from those when I got it at my twelfth birthday.

Despite all that, the Legions frowned on Ritual Plate duels. Suits were valuable, Pilots more so, and a duel was a way to lose combat strength without even fighting the enemy. It was a textbook example of honor resulting in a pointless waste.

Now, the cadets were worried. It was one thing for a noble brat full of vim, vigor, and wounded pride to try to challenge me to a sword fight or some other tediousness. It was another to realize that they would be challenging against my strengths.

After glancing at my mug, I looked around. "Am I clear?"

The cadets nodded. Except for Lavish who looked thoughtful. "Question."

"Yes?"

"Ma'am, you're trying to dissuade us from a tendency towards one on one mid-air duels by, in part, using your own exceptional skill in such things. Is that correct?"

I laughed. "Don't get me wrong. It's a valid skill-set, but it's only a part of what you have to know. And most of you are nowhere near as good as you think you are, but that we're even talking shows you all have promise."

A small frown creased her face.

I eased my stance. "Tell me, who is familiar with the Marzanna?"

All their hands went up.

I pointed to Pulivia who could write while talking and making eye contact with me. "It's the air superiority RP model House Elena uses."

"And who is familiar with the first generation of the Marzanna? And why was it designed that way?"

Lavish's eyes widened. I pointed to her.

"It was intended to surpass our air superiority suit, the Harmonia. The Marzanna had exceptional maneuverability but was weak in protection and long range scrying. They were intended as 'duelists' to counter our suits."

Good, she knew that much.

"And they failed. When they were first deployed in number, on many of our off-world colonial fights with Elena, they did not perform well. Their combat losses were even worse than the times they fought us with their preceding model. All that money, time, and manpower for a suit that was somehow a step backwards? The whole line had to be revamped," I explained. "But do you know the real problem?"

Lifting her hand, Lavish took the incentive. "Was it more than just their design limitations?"

Taking a drink, I nodded. "Don't get me wrong. It did the Marzanna little good to have problems in protection, in scrying integration, and in communications. But those could, and were, fixed in their next generation. The real problems were one of doctrine and of the unintended consequences of training and Pilot mentality."

I pointed to the daughter of the head of the Mason and Runewright Guild. "Elena Air doctrine is?"

"They use golems, piloted craft and Ritual Plate. Much of their development is domestic, but they use a lot of Luxon designs as well." She blushed a bit, her purple skin darkening. I could tell she was explaining the background to buy herself more time to think.

She got some of her composure back "Their air doctrine is similar to their overall doctrine. They like to complement small numbers of high mobility, sometimes low observable, high power units with larger numbers of slower, cheaper, but hard-hitting units. Sort of a hammer to anvil."

Noticing that half of them were now taking notes, though some had to share copy books, I waggled a hand. "That is close enough for today. We will be going into the doctrines and more of all of the Great Houses. Now, consider: the first generation Marzanna were given to their Vanguard Strike units, specifically their most independent Pilots, the ones with the most skill in dog fighting. Who can see the problem?"

"But they were given suits that matched their abilities." Lavish tilted her head. She blinked. "Wait, did a Great House really have to revamp a whole suit design because it encouraged Pilots to go off and try to fight us one on one?"

I gave a small smirk. "It's not that simple, but consider your own actions. Consider the power and excitement you had when you first flew. Think of what it would be like to be in a suit more powerful, more agile than your hated enemy's best. And then the terror of finding out that your enemy has better training, unit tactics and scrying. That it does not matter how maneuverable your suit is when the enemy knows this and works to negate that advantage and without it you have... little else. Combat is unforgiving, as are its lessons."

"That's why Elena had a harder time fixing their training than their suits?" Lavish asked.

"Correct. First, consider the losses in skilled pilots. That represents a massive loss in institutional knowledge, not to mention to their families. There were issues affecting their entire House structure, and families. Making shifts in power. Even Elena has to bow to the reality of social dynamics."

I stepped back to the table to refill my cup once again. I poured in silence to see if the cadets would dare to start whispering to each other. The sound of their pens at work was good to hear. They seemed to learn that much at least.

"Second, this required them to redouble their efforts in trying to counter us. Remember, our enemy is trying to learn from us as much as we are trying to learn from them. And Elena thought they had a counter to our doctrine, a wonder weapon, in the Marzanna." I had to smile at that. I was certain that House BlackSky had their own versions of Schugel, but at least with my own deployments I was insulated from any mad scientists trying to make super Ritual Plate models.

That did give me pause at one of my goals of moving to a more testing and evaluation role. "Elena learned from their mistakes. The refit Marzanna in the hands of a proper squadron of Pilots is formidable. There is a reason it is now their mainstay and has become an effective weapon system on par with Ziox's Tjardu and, yes, our Harmonia. It remains to be seen if their derivative design: the highly-veiled Volos will be worth the cost and represent a leap forward in capability.

"It is some note that in the time House Elena has gone through three major variants of air superiority model, our House has continued to refine and improve the Harmonia. Our more conservative approach is due to us having far more Harmonia than House Elena has total Ritual Plate. Ritual Plate is just a portion of their tactical air power expenditures where it is the lion's share for us. The Harmonia represents a major training, logistical, and hardware investment. That is why we try to make our suits as modular as possible to allow for mid-life refits. I could go on."

I put on a sympathetic expression. "Your performance today is not entirely your fault. Group training is hard and realistic training missions are not exciting nor glorious. Even ground support missions, while flashy, are very precise and tedious because you do not want to bombard our own troops.

"You probably didn't get many private lessons on how to run a convoy escort. And few pre-cadets would spend eight hours of flight training on learning how to do a boring scouting mission where nothing might show up."

"I did Primus," VioletBlood haughtily said.

"Yes, so did I. But our tutors had a generous budget," I replied.

The cadets bristled, but there were a few shamed-faced ones and more than a few with expressions full of poorly-concealed anger. Maybe not all at me; hopefully some of that spleen was directed at the instructors who had taught them what they wanted, exciting dogfights, and not what they had needed.

"You should have been spending more time in a ballet troupe than trying to master one on one dog fighting," I absently noted and then took in their incredulity.

"You are aware that precision acrobatic flying is an effort that requires great skill and teamwork?" VioletBlood archly asked. "It is more than just prancing about in sequins and using fireworks displays and glitter bombs."

"Neither of which I recommend as ordnance." I gave a vicious little smile. "But if you want to get extra flight time to learn some intricate formation flying and more importantly how to function as part of a team, there are worse extra curricular activities."

If I had to spend a years suffering as a ballerina then I could spread a bit of the pain around. As a bonus I was sincere about the increased training time being part of a troupe would give them. And at least a few of them did make a note of my recommendation.

"You're all very privileged. Most pilots," I gestured to Visha and GreyDawn, "will not get nearly the suit time, the training time, you will all get. There will be an assumption of competency, that your time under my training will have actually improved you."

I happily drank from my mug. "For my own sense of pride and professionalism, I will make you lot into something worthy of the Imperial Legions. Do not think of your mother's station, of your station. We are Legionaries. If some provincial commoner centurion gives you an order, you will obey.

"And even if you make Volantes Centurion and, DarkStar-forbid, Volantes Primus Centurion, some Optio hoof-slogger will still be calling you in for air support. If you have a problem with that, you can join one of the shabbier mercenary guilds where you can play at war and have your servants polish the expensive toys you think of as war machines."

I gave one of my most open smiles. "Remember what you swore when you agreed to join the Legions? That was a question." I pointed to the cadet next to Lavish.

"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 ash-haired cadet recited, her prim voice halting at the last part.

"Continue."

She nodded. "I promise to serve under the 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."

"These oaths are not idle boasts. There is some allowance for your status as cadets but," I spread my arms and then gestured towards myself. "Clearly, they still have weight on someone of my age, or yours. You can still resign if it's too much."

I eyed them. "This is an open offer, consider my words and if you want to quit, talk with me in private. I will do my best by writing a letter of reference to your mother, mitigating the shame and endeavor to help put you in a position better suited to your talents."

Lavish raised a hand. "Why would you do that?" she asked.

"Incentives. Because an unfit pilot with too much pride to admit her failures, and too many connections to be drummed out, will get good people killed. I will take a social hit to prevent that from happening. There are plenty of jobs in the Legions and outside to support the House and Empire. And while a negative evaluation from me would ruin your career as a Legion Flier, forcing me to do that, against your will, will result in unnecessary turbulence." I exaggerated a bit. The Legions, and Fleet, had learned how to sideline incompetent nobles, but one way to do that was having a connected officer make a deal like this.

"None of us want to quit," Lavish stated, her voice icy. "None of us are quitters."

"We'll see," I amiably said. "I have some training ideas involving some Istarii Centurions." Visha gasped at that. I honestly didn't see what the big deal was.

I continued. "If you make it into Legionary service, you will be protecting some group of hoof-sloggers. You'll either be providing direct fire support, escorting their transports, or keeping air superiority over their Operational Zones.

I finished off my cup. "If that's not glamorous enough for you, you can always transfer to the Fleet. There you can spend your time guarding a giant gas bag full of ratings, officers, and explosives."

I chuckled lightly at the deflated expressions from my cadets.

"Either way, the expectation is that your life will be put at risk to keep others alive. And since the Imperatrix, in her wisdom, has seen fit to invest a considerable amount of time training, equipping, and having Centurions spend their precious time beating sense into you, BlackSky will get a return on her investment."

Scanning the cadets, who seemed to have paused in their notes, I smiled and looked at a clock on the wall. "Good, now that that is all done. We will have a ten minute break. Stretch your wings, use the facilities, get your own notebooks. When you get back we'll have refreshments."

The cadets' expressions were mostly wary.

"When you get back, we will begin your debrief of today's training. Point by point. I'll also be giving you a breakdown on basic Flight level tactics." I sipped my coffee. "The clock is ticking; you should go now."

They got up and most of them shuffled out to the door. I pointedly ignored the conversations that were starting up outside in the corridor. Pulivia took a moment to finish up her notes before exiting. Lavish was the last out. She hesitated by the door and then eventually left in a huff.

I walked back to my Flight. "Well, I think that went well enough."

"Sure, you might just make all sorts of new, exciting, and connected rivals," GreyDawn noted.

"It's all part of the game. Coddling them would have ruined my reputation among the officers," I stated as Visha handed me some of the pastries SunShower had packed for me. I motioned for the others to help themselves. "And would have gotten a lot of good Legionaries killed."

"And ruined your reputation among the troops," Visha noted.

"And among the nobles who back the Legions and Fleet," VioletBlood added.

"Both good points. No, the way to deal with a gaggle of spoiled nobles with flight armor is to try to beat some sense into them."

GreyDawn's expression indicated she was trying to calculate the odds on that wager.

"Should I go get the refreshments?" Visha asked.

"I'll go with you. A walk to the college's canteen can do me some good," I rolled my shoulders. We had a lot to cover and not much time. As we left the lecture hall, I wondered how Quirinus was able to stay so resolutely unflappable.

"At least this won't be as bad as the 203rd's training," Visha quietly stated once it was the two of us.

Now that brought a smile to my face. "Don't worry, this time you're one of the instructors," I assured.

End Chapter 16

Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Readhead, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.

Special thanks to WrandmWaffles for the chapter title. And extra thanks to Readhead for going over this chapter and giving some extra polish.

I've also got some great art pieces in the wings, both in "annoyed Tauria has to deal with her mother wanting her to dress nice" and "Tauria in her Ritual Plate" style.

Update: Well this chapter didn't need much correcting, maybe I'm getting better. Or maybe I was at the end of this project

 

[Sunshine]

And now some art!

We've got a piece of VioletBlood showing off Tauria's new maid




The outfits aren't quite how things happened in the chapter, but there's plenty of time for them to dress up and for LoveBlood to tease her countess.


Next we have a variant with Reinhild offering some advice to a nervous Tauria




Now this one is another detailing of Ritual Plate. This time with Tauria having her suit checked out by her whole Ritualista team.



Going counter clockwise from Optio Suzette Gibbs (upper left) we have: Flavia, Laurentia, and IvoryTail.

 

[Sunshine]

I've got two pieces of a common theme for this story. Namely: Tauria's adoptive mother dresses her youngest daughter up in something frilly much to Tauria's chagrin.

First we have a wonderful piece from Lexikimble (warning some possible risque content)



Full Size


And then from FieryJinx we have this amazing sequence (and this is one I really recommend looking at in full size to appreciate all the details and expressions.



Full Size

 

[NHO]

She's way more adorable as military succubus than in frills somehow.
I think it's due to her hair being down?

 

[Sunshine]

She's way more adorable as military succubus than in frills somehow.
I think it's due to her hair being down?

Click to shrink...

Is a factor, her expression is also a bit more innocent where she's giving an annoyed look to her mom by the end.

 

[RogueInquisitor]

In Lexikimble's piece, between the corset, the coverage, and the ballet heels, it looks like Tauria's been forced into some weird fetish outfit. I wonder what she's been threatened with/promised to get her to not burn the whole outfit?

Speaking of, we know Succubae can generate and project fire from their hands. Can they use other parts of their body, like their feet? It would probably be pretty niche, but I can think of a couple scenarios that could be advantageous.

 

[Sunshine]

In Lexikimble's piece, between the corset, the coverage, and the ballet heels, it looks like Tauria's been forced into some weird fetish outfit. I wonder what she's been threatened with/promised to get her to not burn the whole outfit?

Click to shrink...

Well corsets/bustiers are a lot more common on Diyu and seen as more normal. And Tauria was a ballerina. But yeah, her mother did guilt her a lot to get her to dress "properly"

Speaking of, we know Succubae can generate and project fire from their hands. Can they use other parts of their body, like their feet? It would probably be pretty niche, but I can think of a couple scenarios that could be advantageous.

Click to shrink...

Yes, though some things like fiery eye beams are a rarer talent.

 

[Sunshine]

So a few updates:

• Ch17 is progressing at about 3k words.
• I have an omake for another Tanya cross that is at about the same length and some of you may enjoy that when it comes up.
• I've also gone though an update, edit project for Little Demon, all the previous 16 chapters have been cleaned up and made a bit more readable with some typo and other corrections. So that'll make reading the story better.
• And for the Return (a story set in the same world as this one) I've finally posted chapter 5 of Book 6 Bonding Allure which can be read here.
• Finally there's some new art from PlayerError 404

We've seen plenty of art of Duchess SilverFlight dressing her adoptive daughter up much to Tauria's frustration and annoyance. But we have not seen her other mother Sister Clementia indulge nearly as frequently. Here we see them sharing a memorial ceremony, I don't see why Tauria is so worried, this is a good sign!

 

[RogueInquisitor]

That picture looks great, aside from the missing wings. Tauria's dress getting increasingly transparent towards the hem is one of those succubus touches I love. I'm not sure why Tauria is wearing a veil and Sister Clementia isn't, but my best guess is a bit of "seen but not heard" symbolism in the novitiate/initiate uniform. Another great touch is how Tauria's tail is giving away her stress, being held straight and stiff.

On a completely different topic, there doesn't seem to be any fixed pattern for the Crown that comes with the top Preserver Order award. Are there any restrictions on the design? Perhaps a coronet, but no hoops/arches? Or restrictions on the types of decorations on the crown, like no precious stones, or it must include certain shapes, like Fleur-de-Lis, stars, etc. Or is the thought that anyone who survived to earn this kind of reward can go wild?

 

[Sunshine]

That picture looks great, aside from the missing wings. Tauria's dress getting increasingly transparent towards the hem is one of those succubus touches I love. I'm not sure why Tauria is wearing a veil and Sister Clementia isn't, but my best guess is a bit of "seen but not heard" symbolism in the novitiate/initiate uniform. Another great touch is how Tauria's tail is giving away her stress, being held straight and stiff.

Click to shrink...

Aye, but not the first time they've been drone hiding their wings, espeically Clementia does it when she's go her long habit on. And yah, the transparency was a fun touche that also doubles to show off how her tail is showing her true emotional state
Oooh got it in one! Tauria is in a Novitiate getup for the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady and the lower veil comes with that for just that symbolism, as a Novitiate's role is to learn. Tauria really can't get beyond a Novitiate, even a Lay Sister would require vows that would conflict with her noble status.

On a completely different topic, there doesn't seem to be any fixed pattern for the Crown that comes with the top Preserver Order award. Are there any restrictions on the design? Perhaps a coronet, but no hoops/arches? Or restrictions on the types of decorations on the crown, like no precious stones, or it must include certain shapes, like Fleur-de-Lis, stars, etc. Or is the thought that anyone who survived to earn this kind of reward can go wild?

Click to shrink...

That's correct. There are a few strong traditions to the Crown, mostly that it should be gold and have red gemstones. Having the four pointed Star is a very common but not universal. A lot of it is customized to reflect the bearer. Some can be held in a reliquary after the first bearer dies and passed to a later bearer

So while Tauria could have her crown as plain as she wants, like a simple circlet tradition and her status (both of her mothers) would strongly influence she gets something "proper", hence why she's been procrastinating. Fortunately it's an award that is rarely required to be worn as a crown.

Though now that she's stationed in the imperial capital....

 

[Chorinas]

I'm enjoying the story immensely, but do you realize that you've posted chapter 13 twice? once threadmarked as chapter 14?

 

[Sunshine]

I'm enjoying the story immensely, but do you realize that you've posted chapter 13 twice? once threadmarked as chapter 14?

Click to shrink...

Oh.... dang. I was doing a re-upload of the chapters and must have gotten things mixed up. It should be fixed now!

And thanks for enjoying!

 

[Asael]

Is a factor, her expression is also a bit more innocent where she's giving an annoyed look to her mom by the end.

Click to shrink...

Her pose probably helps. Knees pointed slightly inwards, shoulder aren't straight, eyes focused to the side. She seems uncertain, shy almost. Her body language in the frilly dress is more tense- shoulders squared, feet together.

 

[Sunshine]

Her pose probably helps. Knees pointed slightly inwards, shoulder aren't straight, eyes focused to the side. She seems uncertain, shy almost. Her body language in the frilly dress is more tense- shoulders squared, feet together.

Click to shrink...

Oooh excellent point. As she's more uncertain ad the start, but by the end she's gathering herself up to deal with whatever her mother is going to pull her into.

 

[Sunshine]

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Return Verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic thingy.
By Sunshine Temple

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

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

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku

Temple of Ranma's Sailor Senshi Seifuku • Index page

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 17: Mandatory Mentoring, Rivals and Reunions.


After she finally got my clothes squared away, SunShower switched her focus to my hair and wings. I patiently sat and let her work. "You are quite tense," my new maid noted.

"Is it that obvious?"

The kitsune glanced meaningfully at my tail, which hung stiffly with the tip curled down.

"Fine."

"I don't see why you're so worried." She put the hair brush down and fussed with the gem at my throat, adjusting it minutely one last time. "Is this truly any more stressful than your survival training?"

"They're a pack of little spoiled brats," I said, not at all put-upon, "They're all going to pester me about my 'heroics'."

"Dare I presume you're exaggerating, Ma'am?"

I wanted to glare at my maid, but the angle wasn't right.

Her ears pulled back slightly for a moment before springing back up. "You have expressed fondness for them in the past, after all..."

I sighed. "Yes, yes, I know. I just need to endure their prattle; if I mouthed off at them and let them know what I really have to say about 'heroics', I'd never hear the end of it."

"Their mothers would be quite upset."

"And we wouldn't want that," I exhaled, forcing my irritation away. "How do I look?"

"Like a princess," Reinhild assured me. Her tone was sickly-sweet, and I could see the way her eyes crinkled with amusement in the mirror.

This time I did glare at her. The obstreperous maid remained entirely unquelled.

I abandoned the glare as futile and stoically suffered through the indignity of being patted on the head.

"At least my lady won't need to wear a habit or other novitiate accessories for this event," the kitsune offered.

I sighed at the subtext. "Indeed not today. You have some lead time. The church attire must be ready when Mother visits next month; I am scheduled to go on a tour of local religious sites with her."

"Very good, Ma'am. Everything for today is ready; your guests should be arriving shortly."

Exhaling, I flexed my gloved hands and nodded to the door.

In her own prim, purple, ruffled uniform, SunShower went a couple steps ahead of me as if to clear a path. By the murky technicalities of noble etiquette, she should have been a few steps behind me; if she had to be in front of me, then she should have been waving a censer, but that was frankly a line I wasn't willing to cross. Thankfully, burning incense was a bit too much pageantry for my older sister's tastes as well as my own. I didn't even chide SunShower for her minor breach of etiquette; at this point in my life, I was thankful for any amount of informality I could get away with.

As we reached the top of the stairs, the correct place for a formal greeting, SunShower held up a hand and we waited in silence. I tried not to fidget with my gloves or pull at the waist of my clothes.

"Are you sure the timing is correct?" I asked, breaking the quiet after a minute.

Lilly, one of the mansion's senior maids, waited by the entryway down in the lobby with a coterie of three more household servants. She looked up at us, nodded, and held up two fingers that she twirled. before returning to her demure, hands-folded waiting pose.

"See, they're nearly here," my kitsune assured. "It won't be too much longer, My Lady."

"Yes... I think I can hear their vehicle now." I was fully aware that this was the only venue where I could plausibly receive my guests; my duchess's "townhouse" was my official residence in the capital, and receiving aristocratic guests anywhere but my official residence would constitute a dire insult. Still, I couldn't say I was comfortable with the imminent invasion of my home by a gaggle of little nobles barely above imps who all dreamed of being real Ritual Plate Pilots.

"What about LoveBlood?" I asked, more to distract myself from the dire future that awaited me than out of curiosity. "Where is she?"

"Alas, she is running a bit late. Getting Centurion Shadow dressed took longer than expected," SunShower explained, before falling silent as her ears rotated towards the entryway. I could hear the hooves on the exterior stairs as well.

It was time. The guests had arrived at last.

The grand doors opened and as Lilly and the rest of the maids greeted their guests with low bows, I put on my professional smile and began descending the stairs, carefully lifting my gown a few inches so I wouldn't tread upon the hem and send myself tumbling down in the full sight of my guests. The only thing more embarrassing than wearing such a frilly, sequined pink confection would be proving myself unable to walk in the damned thing.

There was a sober moment as the new arrivals made their observances to the altar commemorating our fallen family members before, seemingly as one, a swarm of little broodlings in poofy party gowns all turned and looked up to me with a shout of "Aunty!" and "Countess!"

My nieces, at least the youngest among them, had arrived.

++++++++++


"Talia, get down from that tree!" I ordered. "You're going to ruin your dress!"

The little broodling peered down at me from where she had sunk her claws into the trunk about twenty feet up. Her eyes were wide and luminous. "But I'm up high now!"

Looking up at those big green eyes, I cursed myself for turning my back on her, and underestimating how fast children could climb at this age. For a moment, I considered asking a maid to bring me one of the groundskeeper's chainsaws, but the tree was tall enough that it might fall upon the house if cut.

"Yes, that is the problem," I stated calmly. The buffet of snacks had only been a temporary attention-holder for my other nieces and now they were clustered around me in a swarm. Several maids were also in the backyard, all of whom were more than happy to leave this task to me.

"How come she's allowed to climb?" One of the broodlings asked in a tone well past curious and deep into pouting territory. Worse, a few of the others were sidling over to the oak Talia had climbed as well as other trees in the glen.

"She's not," I firmly replied. "Talia is being bad. She's too little."

"I'm a big girl!" Talia pouted as her green wings flapped. "I fly."

I really did not want to explain to ArgentShroud how I let her youngest daughter break her bones in a fall. At least the broodling had her tail wrapped around a branch, that probably gave her some stability.

"Ma'am, I could help get her down safely," SunShower said, quietly appearing by my side.

"You can climb?"

"I am a fox."

"True foxes can't climb trees."

My maid gave me an amused look.

And then the ground level broodlings all began gushing over her and, of course, immediately started squabbling over who got to pet her fluffy tails.

"Girls!" I called in my command voice.

As one they turned and looked up at me, their expressions petulant and covetous. Baby demons were disturbing, in an all too adorable way. They were vicious little predators with sharp claws and fangs, but because they were cute, at least biologically, older demons were wired to protect them. "Miss SunShower is my handmaiden, and if you want to play with her you will have to ask nicely and do what she says."

There was some dissent but then the broodlings seemed almost hypnotized by the kitsune's swishing tails. Nodding my thanks to Reinhild, I stomped closer to the treed Talia.

"Fluffy tail!" she cried.

"You'll have to come down first." I was utterly calm.

After shaking her head, Talia looked up and seemed to study the trunk above her.

"No, don't climb any higher. Don't make me come up there."

"But you'll get your pretty gown dirty and that's against the rules," she giggled.

My wings spread out. "Don't make me get you down."

"Oh?" She peered down at me. Her wings flexed a bit and her legs tensed. "You'll fly up?"

That seemed to break the spell my kitsune had on the others.

"Aunty's gonna fly?" many of them asked as they looked up to me. At least I was not the shortest person here. That was worth something.


Talia looked down with a mad, challenging smirk and leapt.

Wings snapping down, and my Zephyr helping, I accelerated up. Talia squealed seemingly with surprise, when her little wings spread out and she clumsily glided.

I was nearly at her altitude and had reached out to grab the little terror when I felt the air spirits around my niece coalesce and with a giddy yell she tried to accelerate off.

Adjusting my course for interception, I rushed forward just in time for, Talia to slam into my chest in an impact of lace, ruffles, and bows. Wrapping my arms securely around her, I trimmed my wings and went back towards the ground.

"Again!" Talia cheered once my shoes returned to the ground

"No, it's my turn!" Liata, her fraternal twin sister, demanded.

"No, mine!" came the chorus of half a dozen other little voices.

"You have your hands full," VioletBlood noted with obvious amusement as she strode up Visha by her side.

Ah, so those were the gowns that had delayed them. I was jealous that Visha could wear a simple almost evening dress-style affair of elegant black and silver. VioletBlood was wearing a more elaborate gown in gold with lavender trim.

Talia squirmed in my arms with her tail thrashing about as she tried to get comfortable.

"No more climbing trees," I ordered my nieces.

"But Talia got to climb!"

"Life's not fair," I stated.

Still in my arms, Talia smugly nodded along. To my horror, the broodlings all suddenly had incredibly calculating looks on their tiny adorable faces.

"So, we need to be first to get away with it?" Liata, the apparent spokesdemon asked. What did I do to get saddled with little monsters too clever for their own good?

"No." My tone was firm, but it was hard to be imposing while carrying a broodling.

Worse, Talia had started imitating my body language and expressions, causing giggles among the rest of the broodlings.

VioletBlood gave me a strained look, trying for gravely sympathetic. Her swishing tail betrayed her poorly hidden amusement. "I suppose this look does suit you."

I glared.

"Aunty Countess is best Aunty," Talia said.

"Oh no...." I put her down. While my other sisters could handle that in good humor, it was risky to be seen as the "favorite".

"Maybe you can tell them a story?" Visha offered.

"Yes, war story!" "A bloody one!" "Where you chased down the enemy and ate them!"

I twitched a bit at the bloodthirsty little war maniacs. Truly ,children were monsters in need of civilizing. Glancing over to LoveBlood did nothing to calm me; judging by her grin alone, she was just as bloodthirsty as the terrible twins themselves.

"How about some lessons on finding, befriending, and training Zephyr?" I offered. "Especially since Talia found one."

"Yay! Zephyr!" Talia cheered. The broodlings then turned to Talia and seemed to sniff the air as they circled around her with a mix of jealousy and cheer. For a moment I wondered if they were going to hug her or bite her; fortunately, it was the former.

Nevertheless, I stood by to make sure none of them bit her, or clawed at her dress or pulled her hair. At least her dress hadn't been damaged climb or by her short flight.

"The cake is nearly ready," SunShower quietly said by my side.

"Oh good," I said, smiling glassily. My birthday had been three days ago, but this was as much for my family, or at least the younger part, to celebrate. I was less worried about being at the center of attention, and more at the idea of giving a lot of sugar to a veritable terror of broodlings. Yes, clowder is the collective noun for a group of us who were not immediate relatives, but terror was more fitting for ones the age of this particular subset of my nieces.

"I caught a peek when we arrived; it's very impressive," Visha confided.

"As long as we can last until ArgentShroud or Sam arrives," I murmured. At least no one had gotten hurt yet. In some ways broodlings were very robust and could bounce back from injuries, in other ways they were very fragile, something that still kept pediatrics as a major medical field.

"Sam?"

"Short for Samael," I explained before turning back to the broodlings. "How about we go to the gazebo and we can talk there?"

The terror of broodlings watched and I managed to draw them deeper into the back yard to the small building that stood by a fish pond. The architecture was more of the blending of Baroque and Roman and the fish were not koi, but it was still vaguely familiar, a setting conceptually similar to the ornamental ponds of my first life.

I stood with my back to the pond while the broodlings scrambled in, their dresses swooshing as they took seats in the gazebo.

I clapped my hands. "Right, who here knows what a Zephyr is?"

"We all do!" Talia cried.

"Yeah, get to the good stuff!" one of her cousins yelled.

I crossed my arms and tried to give them a stern look. That was a bit more difficult given the visible amusement that VioletBlood and Visha who were watching from the very back hadn't even pretended to hide. There would be, I decided, a reckoning later.

"Fine," I paced a bit. I had to kill some time as the maids got the cake ready, and my nieces should be informed. "Zephyr are elemental kami. More than that, they are kami of the wind, of air. Do you know what that means?"

The broodlings looked at me if I was being obtuse. "That they're spirits of air," Talia eventually stated.

I sighed and idly pushed back one of the campaign ribbons Reinhild had pinned in my hair. "For them, the world is open and free. They care little for borders and the squabbling of the Diyu Houses. Few places are blocked to them. Everywhere there is air, there is some element of them," I waved a hand and idly flicked a gust of wind through my audience.

"So?" A baby-faced purple-haired broodling pouted.

I gave a crooked smile. "They are capricious and playful, mostly with short attention spans but amused at the schemes and folly of demon princesses and war mistresses. In short, a lot like you."

"Is that why I got a Zephyr?" Talia tried to pet the wispy spirit that had curled around one of her wings.

Liata watched with a jealous look caught between trying to pet the spirit herself and pouting.

"In part. There are many kinds of air kami. And Zephyr rank among the more powerful when it comes to direct physical influence."

"Well yeah, aunty! They can make us fly extra fast and push airships around." Liata tilted her head. "How big of an airship have you been on? Oh! Were you ever on a Celestial? Did you get to fly on the Imperatrix's airship?"

I smiled. "No, but I did see a Celestial class lift an enemy submarine out of the ocean. A big set of claws came out the bottom and scooped it out." My simplified explanation was met with a very impressed bunch of broodlings.

"Did you really get a vision from DarkStar that told you how to defeat the enemies?" a younger broodling with curly silver hair asked.

I blinked. "Well, um... no?" That was a bit close to my past life.

"You know like in the comics, Aunty!" she clarified enthusiastically.

My tail certainly did not flail in confusion. I turned to VioletBlood; she still read many DarkStar comics. "I'm in the comics?"

Another broodling interrupted first. She had short black hair. "Not the real ones but the fan-drawn ones in the back of the issues," she said with that mix of overwrought exasperation and enthusiasm only the very young could pull off.

"I'm in doujinshi... zines?" I fumbled for the right term.

"I don't know exactly those terms but... yes," VioletBlood nodded. "There's some good comics but nothing picked up by any of the broadsheets or major publications."

"Maybe it's because you're still in active service?" Visha offered perhaps misreading my confused look.

"I can get some if you want." VioletBlood then gave a wicked grin. "And maybe you can sign them for your fans," she said, gesturing to the broodlings who cheered.

"Um... maybe," I exhaled. I knew religious figures and rites got commercialized but it was... odd to be an unwitting part of it, even peripherally. Maybe I could negotiate likeness rights? No maybe about that; one way or the other, I needed to confirm what I had control over, in regards to my presence in the media. I knew the Legions had been able to commission several propaganda pieces based on my combat actions, but that was different, since I'd carried out those actions while under Legion command. I would also have to see if the Church held any claim onto me, given my status in that organization.

" Girls, any other questions?" I asked, turning my attention back to my audience.

"Where do the Legions get all their Zephyr?" Talia asked then gestured to the one that seemed fascinated with the bells on her ponytail. "I can see pilots providing their own, but what about the Fleet?

I smiled, it warmed my heart to see my family, adoptive as it may be, being concerned about logistics at such a young age. "That is an excellent question. Zephyr are in quite the demand, but it's not just producing them, they have to be trained and helped to grow in power and endurance. It's done in much the same way that the Legions will procure enough raptors or food animals."

"They farm them?" Talia asked while the others giggled.

"No, they contract out to farmers who raise them, obviously," Liata waspishly said before the two girls growled at each other.

I held up a hand. "It's more like a ranch, but yes. There are certain regions that are especially fruitful in developing elemental kami, where Zephyr can quickly grow in awareness and ability, and where they can be more readily attracted."

"Attracted? Like with wind chimes and pinwheels?"

"As well as prisms, prayer wheels, whistles, and other things to attract the curiosity of a kami."

"But I got one!" Talia cheered.

"Yes, they sometimes get attracted to sensitive succubae," I eyed my niece. "Or ones they find entertaining."

"Maybe if I climb higher I'll get more!"

"No, we are doing story time," I stated.

"Yeah," Liata whined. "You got yours, leave some Zephyr for the rest of us."

"That's not a concern for you," I said, striving to intervene between the twins, "as I'll describe about how the air kami grow and mature, the bottleneck is not at finding-"

"You're just jealous because you're too slow!" Talia stuck out her tongue and waved her tail. I noticed the other broodlings tensing and getting... eager?

Liata's skin darkened to a purple as her wings flapped. "I am not!"

"Are too! You can't even fly with those stubby-" Talia was cut off by her twin pouncing onto her. The two broodlings started scratching and biting as they tumbled along the floor of the gazebo, bits of lace flying everywhere.

For horrified moment, I stood still, until I noticed there was no blood spraying out. Thank DarkStar for that. But judging by the yelling and the cheering from the other girls I had little time before they joined the fracas.

"It's not your Zephyr!" Liata screamed as she pulled her sister's hair.

"She found me!"

"That's because you were up in a tree!"

Pushing past the broodlings, I reached into the circle and picked up each sister by the scruff of their neck. Giving little growls they tried to scramble back at each other even as I pulled them apart. "Girls!"

"She started it!" they said in perfect synchronicity and renewed their efforts to try to resume their tussle. Seeing their teeth flash, I strengthened my grip. I did not want to lose a finger today.

"And what will your mother say?" I demanded as I had my own Zephyr push in both of their wings and reduce their angry flailing to more controllable struggles. I took care not to hurt them; I did not want to have to explain wounds to ArgentShroud.

The two broodlings went from eye-flaring and hissing to pouting with shocking speed to looking adorable and forlorn. Their lips quivered and they gave me doleful expressions.

"I'm not buying it," I flatly stated; it was obvious neither was sincere.

"You're no fun, Auntie," Liata pouted.

The broodlings around me echoed the sentiment. And I became acutely aware I was surrounded by tiny, hungry demons who were upset I had spoiled their fun. That they were dressed up in little party dresses was small comfort. It was a veneer of civilization.

"Lilly, Reinhild is the cake ready?" I asked tiredly.

And as one nearly a dozen sets of eyes went from me to the maids.

The two maids, Kitsune and demonic, managed to keep their composure. Though I did note Miss SunShower maneuvered the dessert cart so that it was between her and the broodlings.

"Girls!" I called in my command voice. That actually slowed the murder of broodlings a bit. "Form a line, let's be civilized about this."

"Do you need any help?" Visha asked. VioletBlood standing next to her, made no such offer to help. Indeed, the baroness' tail swished with unconcealed amusement.

"Do you have experience with broodlings?" I asked, then winced. Visha had many younger siblings; VioletBlood no longer had any siblings.


"I have a younger cousin," VioletBlood said, peering at me, "and in my experience with LavenderFang, she gets very upset if you hold her up too long."

After a moment, I dropped the two broodlings I had been carrying. That is to say, I carefully put them back down so their dresses wouldn't get any more damaged, and also used my Zephyr to keep them from falling too hard.

Talia's spirit interacted with mine and briefly joined the other spirits. She had found a strong one.

That was good for her right now, but that likely meant she could end up a Fleet Pilot or a Legion Flier. It would be her choice but with so many members of her immediate family... On the other wing, not everyone in my Duchess's family became a pilot. Maybe she could escape the cycle that consumed my adoptive family.

And then she and her sister ran off to get cake. She had a few years before...

VioletBlood stepped up to me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I bristled.

Stepping closer, Visha took my hand. "It's okay," she said, using the same voice someone would when calming an agitated dog. Which was odd, coming from her, I always thought she was more of a cat person.

"I'm fine!" I assured her, my tail flicking. The girls had stopped fighting and were even eating their cake in peace. At least until the sugar high kicked in. Hopefully, there would not be any hair-pulling or biting. Though with the spike of avarice and jealousy I was feeling from.... wait.

A pair of arms went over my wings and shoulders. "Is it them? You're still young," VioletBlood exclaimed as she pulled me into an embrace.

Using my years of experience in ballet and as an aerial mage and pilot, I was utterly graceful in my motions and certainly did not fall backwards into the taller demon's arms. "That's not it, LoveBlood!"

She smiled down at me. The serene look on her aristocratic lavender-tinged features was... off. At least her green eyes still burned with intensity. She hugged me tighter. "I can imagine a family event could be overwhelming, especially for girls in our position."

Baroness VioletBlood smiled at Visha. "Victorious, can you be a dear and get us some refreshments? I'll hold onto our countess and make sure she doesn't get into trouble."

I could pull out of the embrace, and I would have if not for a pair of very valid reasons. VioletBlood did make the situation less awkward by taking a seat in the gazebo which allowed me to sit while she still had her arms around me. As our Zephyr were getting along, I was loath to separate our air spirits and cause them any trauma.

I was mindful with my tail, after all when we were cadets LoveBlood had proven sensitive to such things.

"You don't need to be jealous," VioletBlood said, clearly trying to be soothing. She was not the most empathic of demons, but I gave her credit for making the attempt.

"I'm not."

"Really?" Her tone was playful. "Your mother is still the patron of many orphanages, and still helps give young girls Ritual Plate training. Ah, maybe you'll be helping her."

"I do support the orphanage where I was raised, yes," I stated, evenly and in control. It was helpful, having some who I knew valued me close by. VioletBlood's presence helped me relax, even as she chattered on.

Visha returned, balancing a platter laden with plates of cake, drinks, and silverware. She was a very competent aide and had become... more, somewhere along the way. For a moment, I worried she might be jealous at seeing VioletBlood acting so forward.

But that momentary worry dissipated as her tail merrily swished, seeing us. "I made sure to get plenty before the little ones ate everything," she said as she perched next to us.

VioletBlood snagged a plate of cake for herself I to share. She held the plate high over my head for a moment before lowering her arm down enough for me to grab the cake. It was a bit hard to eat while being cradled and, I had my pride, but the Black Forest chocolate cake was too tempting.

"I do apologize for my girls," a smooth voice purred from somewhere nearby. "I hope the twins were not too much trouble."

Holding a fluted glass, Lady Castellan ArgentShroud strode up to us on silvered hooves. She wore a grey bodice, a dark green jacket and a matching skirt that, while of very fine make, looked rather business-like for a family gathering. I wondered if she was handling some of mother's commercial interests today; perhaps a guild negotiation on the side of the get-together. On Diyu, guilds provided many social services including mutual-aide, collective bargaining, apprenticeships both for foundlings and adults, lending, and other benefits for members and their families.

At least I hoped that was the reason ArgentShroud was not wearing a gown, because if business casual were acceptable to wear to this party, then I would have been cross.

"Talia got her first Zephyr today," I stated, swallowing my bite of cake.

A hint of regret crossed my older adoptive sister's face, but it was quickly followed by pride. "Oh? And at her age? Incredible!"

"It's a strong one too," I noted, pushing aside the concerns I'd had. "She has potential."

"Lovely," ArgentShroud stepped closer and bowed to Visha and VioletBlood. "Forgive my rudeness. It's always a pleasure to see you, Baroness VioletBlood and Volantes Centurion Shadow."

"It's good that you could make it," Visha replied with a smile before gesturing to a vacant space on the gazebo's bench next to us. "Want to join us? There's plenty of room!"

ArgentShroud sipped her drink. "Oh, I couldn't possibly get in the way of such a delightful display of affection."

I blinked. Yes, I was sitting very close to my two Vs and yes, both had at least one arm around me. Some allowances had to be made for cake. "Well... " I looked at them imploringly.

"It is a party," LoveBlood said, in the tone of one pointing out the obvious.

I frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

"And we have a bit of time before the sugar kicks in for the little ones," Visha added.

"We don't have to keep you," I offered. "You should say hi to your girls."

ArgentShroud gave a toothy smile. "Or, I could just call them here, couldn't I?"

"They are your daughters," I allowed.

My sister nodded as if that was a somehow insightful argument. "Liata, Talia," she announced, making her presence known to her cake-smeared offspring.

"Mother!" The two girls squealed excitedly in stereo as the other broodlings turned to face us.

ArgentShroud called out each and every one of the broodlings by name, which got rousing choruses of cheering "Other Aunty!" and "Aunt Argie! in reply.

"Are you having a good time? Enjoying your cake?" My sister asked the clowder of little broodlings, who were seemingly torn between gamboling about as they ate and charging towards us.

The air was positively electric with their energy. Dozens of eyes with pupils dilated wide open gleamed at us as their tails flicked about slashing through the air. I could see their muscles quivering with the sugar rush from clear across the gazebo.

For some reason VioletBlood pulled me closer and Visha patted me on the head. I stewed impotently; I was not that worried, and I didn't require reassurance in the face of my unruly nieces! Though I could see how such a gesture would be reassuring.

Sipping from her glass, ArgentShroud gave a beatific smile down at me. It sharpened as she looked up to her daughters and our nieces. "Girls, have you thanked your Aunty Tauria? Maybe she'd like a group hug?"

My stomach dropped out as the murder of pint-sized broodlings with their big eyes focused on me with a vibrating hunger. And then as one they charged, plates and cups forgotten, quickly were collected by the attentive maids who saw an opportunity to reduce the eventual mess and exploited it to maximum effect.

I was swarmed!

Not only were my nieces cuddling but they were also clambering and squirming. "Hey! Stop biting! Don't eat my cake! No, don't use your claws to climb onto me! What's wrong with you?!"

My stern gravitas was undercut by VioletBlood and Visha's giggling. Traitors! Did they not realize we were being overwhelmed by the clambering, purring, bewinged horde?

"They're trying to be nice," ArgentShroud assured me unnecessarily as she intercepted the twins. "Talia, try not to bite or tear her dress."

I frowned up at my sister as Talia nodded groggily before yawning. "But I got my Zephyr!" she announced as my sister picked her up.

"Not fair!" Liata whined as her mother took her with her other arm. ArgentShroud reassured her soothingly and the twins managed not to bicker.

It was a slight reduction in the load I was under, but I still had to deal with ten of the demons. However. the true horror of her sinister plan hit me as a whole terror of broodlings grew steadily more drowsy and heavy. If I could not extract myself soon I would be entombed by a pile of sleeping demons!

I failed in my attempts to squirm free.

But only because my perfidious maid put a giant fluffy cashmere blanket over all of us while the townhouse's staff brought out milk and other soporific refreshments. I was soon torn between upsetting my elder sister by waking up the broodlings or suffering with as much dignity as I could muster.


++++++++++


While Silvana made common use of funiculars, there were some routes that did not require an inclined rail. Most prominent among these were the numerous blissfully flat lines that roughly followed the course of the Phlegethon river.

Our journey took me, my Flight and each of our head Ritualista from the more central Silvana locations where we lived and worked near the War College to the massive Fleet and Legion bases east of the city. It was also the region that housed the considerable rail yards, factories, stock yards, warehouses, and dock yards that made Silvana one of the great centers of productivity on Diyu.

Corresponding with the more working class demographics of the area, the buildings surrounding the tracks were increasingly variations of apartment blocks, row houses, or other forms of lower income housing. Notably, there was a lack of the kind of teeming tenements that frequently populated industrial areas. At least, a lack within our view from the train.

The four Optios who headed each of our maintenance teams sat ahead of us in the train cabin. Gibbs, my crew chief, was engrossed in a pulp novel while two of her compatriots quietly chatted. The fourth was quite wisely catching a catnap.

"Are you looking forward to visiting MuArc Amalgamated? Visha asked, in a bid to make small talk. Among their many subsidiaries and products, MuArc manufactured the Polyxo and the Harmonia.

"Of course. It should be informative and hopefully we can help guide the next iteration of their display systems. As well as provide our input in regards to the various issues we've noted." I shrugged. "Maybe we will learn when they'll have production support for the next Gorgon Rig model."

"And maybe we'll see some interesting things," VioletBlood sighed.

I shrugged as I watched the city pass us by. It all seemed interesting to me, but I knew my opinions weren't always universally held.

The baroness frowned at me.

"I dare say our baroness is bored," GreyDawn glanced up from her paper.

"There's nothing too interesting outside," VioletBlood sniffed.

"It looks like a lot of buildings and people flying, there's even a few parks, churches, libraries and even businesses," Visha countered.

VioletBlood gave her an indulgent smile. "Yes, it's fine for commoners."

"You're not... wrong," I admitted. "They seem like rather nice places to live."

"I've lived in worse," GreyDawn remarked.

"When we first moved to Amber Island, my family lived in some apartments in Mourning that were a bit cramped," Visha added.

"When it comes to slums and tenements, Silvana isn't that bad. It's bigger than Bovitar."

"That's good," Visha optimistically said.

"The Imperatrix, in her wisdom, has encouraged building codes to ensure a minimum quality for low income housing," VioletBlood piously stated.

I lifted an eyebrow at her. There were several reasons for the lack of true slums; the Baroness had picked the most sycophantic.

GreyDawn chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't insist that the stalwart, industrious workers of our House, ennobled by labor, refused to live in substandard housing, and through the canny savings by those who know the value of an aureus and those who strive to improve their lot in life purchase quality homes."


VioletBlood's tail flicked. "Well? Is that false?"

"Eh, not always. With luck and good boots, anything is possible," GreyDawn's tone was very dry.

"The Guilds, Churches, and Public Libraries help," Visha said. "My family were refugees who fled when Elena took over the island we lived on. Charity, support, and even some vocational training kept us afloat until we got back on our hooves."

VioletBlood nodded along. "See, good work leads to good lives."

"Which naturally meant the Guilds and Churches should be given more donations and support to continue their good work," GreyDawn cynically said.

"I'm surprised no one's insisted that we refuse to live in fetid squalor due to our sensitive noses and empathic senses," I stated.

"Well..." VioletBlood coughed and glanced around the train car; none of the other commuters seemed to be paying attention to us. Our Ritualista were also busy with their own conversation.

"It may be true but.... you don't just say that, Countess. It's not like humans and the other species in the Empire could be packed into rotting apartments just because our kind were too good for outright slums."

GreyDawn gave a long sigh. "You are a humanitarian, LoveBlood." She glanced over to the Ritualista who seemed to be pointedly ignoring their Volantes Centurions' conversations. Well maybe, Gibbs's book was just that engrossing. It was a wise move; when centurions, especially Pilots started talking, a wise Legionary would keep her horns down unless she wanted to catch being volunteered.

"I'm trying to be nice!" VioletBlood stomped a foot.

"A cynic would merely point out that property values are high enough in Silvana, and even the eastern lowlands, that the real slums would naturally be located outside the city," GreyDawn noted.

VioletBlood sniffed. "What do you think, Countess?"

"Personally? I think it's a combination of the above factors, and two you missed."

"Those being?" Visha asked.

"My pet theory involves something banal and boring: our fire codes." The others blinked at me. Maybe it was due to the historical biases in my first life, but I was aware of how strong cultural norms with respect to fire can be especially when there is a history of using inflammable building materials.

Switching to a new page on her paper, GreyDawn made a thoughtful murmur

"We have a populace that by dint of biology lives with a heightened risk of structural fire; after enough city-crippling fires, urban planning would eventually try to mitigate that," I said.

VioletBlood pouted "I... suppose."

I spread my hands. The baroness had been the one to suggest building codes at the start. "Other than appeals of nobility or honest labor or charity, I feel that Silvana's remarkably free of slums because such areas were horrific fire traps, especially when crammed full of people who all had access to pyromancy. It would not take many riots for the problem to self-correct."

GreyDawn laughed. "And I thought I was cynical."

"There is a related aspect. Much as how tenements can be at great risk of burning down, they can also be at great risk of generating spiritual trauma." I tapped my lips. "Both the to spirits of the people who live there and to any kami in the area."

GreyDawn gave a begrudging shrug. "Well, if we cared so much about spiritual health, then the Great Houses should be far more reluctant to go to war. Your trauma can accumulate in a slum as easily as it can in a trench, if you get enough bad luck and violence."

My mind flashed back to the Rhine Front. I suppose that was a difference: the trenches weren't intended to be long term habitations. "No argument here."

"Our House is reasonable," VioletBlood sniffed. "The others just need to stop being so petty and aggressive, and then we'll have peace on Diyu."

'They say the same about us," Visha idly pointed out.

"But that's different!" The baroness hissed. "You should know this, Islander girl! Your family fled from Elena's aggression."

GreyDawn gave a slow blink at the other noble pilot. "It was better when you were opining about how commoners lived."

VioletBlood huffed and pointedly looked out the window.

"Peace." My tone was less derisive than I had expected. "Humans can't manage it, what hope do we have? On Diyu the Great Houses will rise, fall, and fight."

"Humans?" GreyDawn chuckled. "No, short of us, they're the most quarrelsome species, even by themselves they'll make enemies."

VioletBlood showed remarkable restraint by not making a comment about humanity.

"The train ride is nice," Visha offered.

"At least there's no staff car or hoof-slogger acting as a chauffeur to deal with," GreyDawn noted after a few awkward moments of silence passed.

"They're not that hard to sign out," Visha assured.

"The facility is reasonably close to the station," I noted glancing out the window. We had just passed the baroque mass of the Downslope DarkStar Cathedral. And with the scaled gleaming copper dome of the Baha'i Faith's Shrine of Avnalis ahead of us, that meant we were nearing our stop. By this point, the train was running along an elevated track, which made street crossings far easier by eliminating at-grade intersections.

"True, but if we had a Tribune..." GreyDawn trailed off.

VioletBlood gave a small smile.

"But we do not," I reminded. "And without such an august personage we can avoid a dog and pony show."

"Instead, we merely have a noble bearer of the Preserver Crown who, in addition to making waves at the Imperial War College, has more indirect influence with MuArc than most Legion Fliers," VioletBlood idly noted.

Smirking, GreyDawn's tail swished.

"I don't have that much influence," I huffed.

"But if they think you have the duchess's ear..." Visha delicately said as the train slowed around a curve.

"Be that as it may, even someone with the power of Duchess SilverFlight, including her lands and commercial interests, pales before the might of an organization like MuArc Amalgamated."

"While she can buy a squadron of RP suits..." VioletBlood pondered.

"MuArc manufactures them by the Air Group," GreyDawn concluded.

"On a quarterly basis at least while at max, peacetime, production," I noted. With a roughly forty percent market share, MuArc Amalgamated was House BlackSky's largest Ritual Plate manufacturer.

Although, that statement was something of a simplification, as my Duchess was able to buy Ritual Plate out of personal funds without liquidating her primary assets. Besides, just because MuArc was able to purchase all the components and pay the artificers to assemble that many sets of Ritual Plate did not mean that they had an equivalent amount in liquid funding. The example was, however, illustrative of scale, especially given MuArc produced more than just Ritual Plate.

In fact, most of their production was dedicated to the manufacture of components and subsystems which were sold to other conglomerates and trusts for installation in what were professionally termed as "weapons platforms".

Instead of speeding up when the track straightened, the train continued to slow. There was a chime. "Next stop Hatheg Avenue. Next stop Hatheg Avenue. Please wait until the train has come to a complete stop before disembarking," the conductor said over the loudspeakers present in every passenger cabin.

"Finally," VioletBlood said, immediately getting up and stretching her wings. In the process, she eared both a disapproving look from me for her flagrant rule breaking and a huff from GreyDawn as she batted the baroness's wing away from her face.

There was a slight jostling as the train stopped, and then I stood and took up my valise. After making sure my Pilots hadn't left anything behind, I quickly walked to catch up to the Ritualista.

'"Ma'am," Optio Gibbs said, acknowledging my presence; she carried her own case full of notes and reports.

"Any concerns?"

The stern-faced Ritualista gave me a patient look as we stepped off the train and onto the platform. "Not really. While this is my first time giving field reports to MuArc artificers about the Polyxo, I have reported to them about the Harmonia."

I swallowed my slight embarrassment over my minor faux pas as we sidestepped to allow people board the train and to give my people a chance to collect themselves. The Harmonia was the other major Ritual Plate model manufactured by MuArc and made up the lion's share of their overall production. And given that about a third of BlackSkyvian Ritual Plate were Harmonia air superiority and interceptor suits, it was a critical defense asset.

"Oh? Anything in particular?" I asked as I guided my small group around the crowds by swinging wide around the platform to the exit stairs. "I'd like to hear about your previous reporting sessions, especially if your experience can help with today's meetings."

Gibbs gave a slight smile, taking my compliment. I was sincere. For every Polyxo advanced MuArc manufactured, they made nearly six Harmonia. Given the years it had taken to build up the number of Harmonia in service there was a wide variety of versions and marks. I could see MuArc wanting to increase the number of advanced multi-roles the Fleet and Legions purchased.

"I was part of the group that transferred Legion Ritualista experience with the Mark Eighteen Harmonia back to MuArc."

"Ah, the mid-life refit?" I asked, more for politeness's sake than authentic curiosity. On an annual basis, MuArc made a greater profit refurbishing and retrofitting the existing RP fleet than they did producing new suits. Not that every squadron was updated to the latest Mark Twenty-Five Harmonia, often it was sufficient, and cheaper, to go with an update to the venerable and common Mark Eighteen.

She nodded. "The Legions may not operate very many Harmonia but we do have some unique perspectives on their care and repair."

"Meaning you have to keep a suit flying from a maintenance bay carved out of a trench instead of on a nice airship."

"As you say," Gibbs confirmed with a twinkle in her eye.

"Anything with IBF's Tac Air?" I asked as we started going down the stairs to the street. The second largest RP manufacturer in the House, Imperial Blimp and Freight's Tactical Aviation Division made the Telephe strike suit, the Sarpedona ground attack model, and the Occultia broad-range scrying platform. Altogether, it came to a bit over a thirty percent market share of BlackSkyvian RP.

Her tail gave a swish. "I'm a Legionary chief Ritualista, of course I've talked to them about issues with the Sarpedona. Mostly about targeting system integration. Helmet displays used to be far less intuitive, especially when separating-out ground clutter."

"How did talking with them compare to MuArc?" I inquired as we stepped out onto the street. I was kicking myself, well, trying not to flagellate myself with my tail, for not speaking with her earlier. An experienced Optio like Gibbs was a wealth of institutional, and informal, information.

There were still trees on both sides of the avenue which provided some shade, though their leaves were a bit of a paler shade of green. The air had a slightly metallic smell and when the breeze shifted one could tell we were near the stockyards.

Gibbs looked a couple blocks down the avenue to the hulking complex that was MuArc's main Silvana Ritual Plate servicing plant, artificer enchantment clean-rooms, and system integration offices. The black-haired woman made a thoughtful murmur.

"You can speak freely," I said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Both are rather responsive. And keep in mind I only talked with IBF's Sarpedona designers."

"As opposed to their Telephe and Occultia design teams?" I asked, simplifying slightly. Any major "weapon platform" development was a collection of teams many of which coordinated with teams in other companies and guilds.

"Yes, Ma'am. The Legions don't use dedicated Strike Suits, nor do we have many Occultia, mostly relying on the Fleet for such support." From my crew-chief's slightly stiff tone, I could tell she harbored reservations about the Imperial Legions relying on the Household Fleet for much of our theater-scale scrying capability.

"And the Fleet doesn't use very many Sarpedona," I mused.

Gibbs agreed with me before pausing to talk to a couple of the other Ritualista and I took the moment to wave over GreyDawn who inclined her horns to me.

"Maybe tell the Vs that they should have a quiet word with their crew chiefs, especially if they have any last minute words of experience," I said in a whisper.

Sensibly choosing to walk under the shade of the trees, my senior Pilot chuckled. "Victorious gets along quite well with her Ritualista, but I see your meaning," she stated a hint of approval in her voice, though I could tell by the curl of her tail that she was also amused that I was suggesting such a thing now, practically on MuArc's doorstep.

"Yes," I sighed, "we should have talked with them on the train instead of letting LoveBlood go on about how the common folk live."

"As you say, Ma'am."

Right, GreyDawn would have told me to keep a good relationship with my Ritualista. Better than what I thought I had with Optio Suzette Gibbs at least. I nodded to GreyDawn and she slowed her pace to spread the word to the rest of the flight.

Gibbs approached me.

"If the Sarpedona team is responsive to the Legionary Flier and Ritualista perspectives, then what about MuArc?" I inquired.

"It's not quite like that, Ma'am," Gibbs demurred. "Yes, most of the Harmonia and Polyxo are used by the Fleet, but that's just because the fleet uses far more Ritual Plate than the Legions." She shrugged. "No, the problem is that MuArc has the Harmonia and the Polyxo."

"Meaning?" I sniffed. I could smell a bit of incense in the air. I wondered how much of the stuff MuArc went through. It had to be comparable to the bulk lots the Legions and Fleet purchased.

"They make the Harmonia Air Superiority Suit and the Polyxo Advanced Multi Role," she clarified with added emphasis.

"Ah. They think they're too clever by half?" I had experience with that type of scientist. Even before Being X corrupted him, Schugel had been a man too enamored with the brilliance of his own designs to worry about such things as robustness or failure modes.

"To a degree. Their designs are a bit more maintenance heavy."

"Especially the Polyxo?"

The Ritualista gave a fanged smile. "More than that, that capability encourages Fliers to be a bit more reckless with the hardware."

"Understood, Optio."

"This does mean they will push back more on critiques of balky components or complicated designs."

"Which makes up a large part of the issues we're raising." One advantage of getting closer to the plant was that the smells of the stockyards and the slaughterhouses were fading. Though on Diyu there was less of a stigma. And butchers were a vaunted position, as they got plenty of meat and life energy. As working class neighborhoods went, this one was full of opportunities for craftswomen in skilled trades.

"Why, yes, Ma'am." That sharp smile returned as we continued to walk past a set of office buildings as we neared an intersection. I glanced back to see that Visha and her Ritualista had made a quick stop to a sausage and fruit vendor that had set up on the sidewalk.

"What about the Polydora? Does the Inter-House Mercantile Aviation Company have the same attitude?"

Gibbs shook her head. "I have not talked with them as much, but it's a different culture."

"They are the smallest of the big-three manufacturers," I noted. The Inter-House Mercantile Aviation Company had nearly a fifth of the House's production but gamely held on by making the humble Polydora multi-role and the very expensive Svalinna.

"And once the Polyxo came out, they knew the Polydora would only be kept in service if they could keep costs down," Gibbs replied with a nod.

"Really? Switching over to all Polyxo would be prohibitively costly." I pondered. "That'd reduce the number of multi-role squadrons by quite a lot."

Gibbs bowed her horns to me. The light changed and we crossed the street. "But why have two separate lines of multi-role suits if there's not much of a price difference?"

I had to agree to that. Most Great Houses only kept one multi-role model of Ritual Plate suit in front-line service. "So Mercantile Aviation's boffins, realizing they couldn't compete on performance, worked to compete on price?"

"Which is more than the initial per-suit cost. Parts and refurbishment were also driven down to improve competitiveness." Gibbs shrugged. "Which pushed the other firms to increase their cost reduction programs, so presumably it will all even out in the end."

"You sound so optimistic," I laughed. This close to the MuArc facility the office buildings had started to thin and across the street a collection of large warehouses and a freight yard squatted.

"You've flown a Polyxo and a Polydora," Gibbs pointed out, "which do you prefer?"

"The Polydora has its charms," Visha said as she came up and handed me a sausage in a sesame bun and a pear. She gave a similar set of treats to Gibbs from the bag her Ritualista carried before going to the rest of us.

Gibbs eyed the pear as she, like myself, tried to juggle the food and our valises. "Does she know MuArc will be feeding us?"

"Visha's instinct is to get food whenever it's available."

"That is... sensible," Gibbs admitted before taking a bite of the sandwich.

"The Mercantile Aviation also makes the Svalinna," I noted.

Gibbs swallowed. "Yes, they have the expertise to build the high evocation power systems for its broad-range ward projectors. Rather vital for a defensive warding suit."

"An interesting mix," I noted. The Polydora was a common budget suit, while the Svalinna was the most expensive and the second rarest suit. Requiring Pilots who were especially skilled with warding magic, a Svalinna was a major investment, but the capability to project a powerful if short-lived, ward shield that could intercept a missile barrage, protect an installation, or add more protection to Fleet assets was very often worth the trouble.

"The also make the Lance emitters, flasks and power systems used in the Telephe and strike packages for multi-role suits. They may be in third place, but Mercantile Aviation has plenty of expertise and products."

"Something about not underestimating someone because they're small?" I joked before taking a bite. The sausage was good. It might have been pork, but it was spiced and just savory enough to satisfy.

Gibbs laughed. "Compared to the other Ritual Plate manufactures? They're still large enough, Ma'am."

That was true; the roughly ten percent remainder of the Ritual Plate market was mostly smaller firms making the other main models under license as export versions or as extra industrial capacity.

We finished the buns in silence as we got halfway to our destination. "We are only talking about the primary suit manufactures."

"Ma'am," Gibbs agreed before biting into her pear.

"What I mean is, the conglomerates who made the various weapons, power, navigation, scrying and other systems are a whole other intricate web. Similar to how Mercantile Aviation makes high evocation systems for suits manufactured by their competitors."

"And IBF's Tactical Air Division makes the majority of RP scrying systems including the Gorgon Rig."

"Whereas MuArc Amalgamated does a lot of the integration for the illusion magic of the display systems and the spirit sanctums and arcane power feeds for the Zephyr."

"Correct, Ma'am. They acquired Visionary Enchanting a decade or so back and made it into a subsidiary; Visionary still makes much of our Veiling systems."

"Just Ritual Plate? Or VTOL, lighter than air, and ground systems?"

Gibbs gave a slight exhale. "I believe they work with Imperial Blimp and Freight for the large airframes, given how much the power increases with size."

I nodded. Veiling roughly scaled with the square of an object's size, approximately based on the surface area that had to be cloaked in illusion. There was also a dramatic increase in the Veiling requirements if attempting to make an object blend in; active camouflage versus true invisibility. Whereas reducing such things as the arcane, and mundane, energy signatures increased with the cube of an object's size. Though the power output was the dominant factor.

"I'm surprised there's that much crossover," I admitted. "An RP suit idling at min forward velocity used far less power than one at max dash velocity. And either paled next to the emissions of a VTOL or an airship."

Gibbs made a non-committal grunt. "Maybe not for a Spatha Light VTOL. Though as always it's the smaller airframes that can be more reasonably made quiet. You do not see many low-observable Pugio Heavy VTOLs."

Finishing the sausage, my tail swished in amusement. The idea of a full veil on a dropship that could transport tanks was absurd.

"Though..." Gibbs paused and thought as she ate some more of her pear. "We both know which part of the Household Military makes use of such assets."

"Especially the airships," I sighed. The basic kind of Veiling was near universal on airships, though that was little more than a system that made sure the hull's coloration roughly blended into the background. True invisibility was far more expensive, to the point that only a handful of Lua Light hulls had been converted to use it and the more numerous Kolibri Patrol and Venture Scouts were still considered to be specialized units. The visual signature was not the only part that needed to be managed for combat airships.

"If you want to see the pinnacle of Visionary Enchanting work, all you have to do is ask," Gibbs noted.

I thought back to Invidia, the snake from the Office of Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance. That intelligence outfit had found many uses for extremely hard to detect fleet assets capable of inter-dimensional travel. "I would prefer not to be roped into providing air support for some clandestine mission."

Gibb's expression was approving. "Part of why Visionary was taken more or less intact; so much of their work is hush-hush."

I looked at the looming edifice that was the MuArc facility's office complex. It was only three stories tall, but the offices spread out in two massive wings flanking the main entrance's lobby. Secrecy was important, but it was a question of knowing what to conceal, especially as that increased cost and time in a nonlinear fashion the more of a project was kept secret.

"I don't think we'll be touching on anything too sensitive at today's meeting," I said as I enjoyed my pear. "Not like we're talking about comms, veiling, or scrying."

"Other than your standard push to get more Gorgon Rigs," Gibbs smiled. "But no, we're not talking about the secret sauce to the precious widgets. But the tactical lessons on how to improve their systems are, if anything, more valuable."

I gave the Optio a hard look. "Which is why we're talking about background and history now, and not on our presentations."

"Ma'am," she noted with just enough respect to pass muster, before finishing her pear. Experienced subordinates were worth their weight in gold, unfortunately they knew that and they were experienced at being subordinates.

I let the issue rest. I did not want my head Ritualista angry at me. She was a very experienced and valuable team member. And was my contact with the other fifteen Ritualista under my command and the so-called Optio Cartel of Legionaries in logistics, maintenance, security and other roles.

GreyDawn was my old hand in the complex layered world of centurions which was a broad category of officer ranks in charge of everything between Centuries, Pilots, and vehicle Troops. However, below them was the world of Optio, Tesserarius, and Decanus ranks; those got things done by organizing the line hoof-sloggers.

"Your presence is critical for this meeting," I noted. "You can do things I can't."

"You don't think you'll be taken seriously?"

"Quite the opposite." I found the pear to be crisp and delicious.

"Ah, the propaganda and legend?"

My tail flicked. "Yes, the whole Heroine Countess and her Bloody Baroness nonsense."

"Surely once you show you actually know how a suit works you won't be patronized."

I shrugged. "Maybe, but what if I attract the glad-handers and sycophants? What good is my knowledge if I get swamped by people who don't know how Ritual Plate works? You and the others can talk to the actual arcanists and designers."

Gibbs smirked. "Ah, a very noble sacrifice on your part, Ma'am."

"Very funny. I hope the dog and pony show part is quick, but if I have to fall on my sword to ensure this meeting isn't a waste of time, then so be it."

Head cocked, she looked me up and down. "But you're not wearing your mother's sword."

"I get enough of that from LoveBlood," I sighed as we were now passing the fences that surrounded the MuArc campus. In a world where flight was common, fences were used more to formally demarcate boundaries than serve as actual barriers. Teleportation, shape shifting, scrying, and other capabilities made securing facilities... challenging. The security staff that MuArc had on hand, mostly retired Legion, were the actual deterrent.

"She has a point, Ma'am. It's like your crown, if you don't order it yourself, someone, likely your duchess will do it for you."

My tail stilled. "You are not... wrong."

As we neared the various entrances onto the MuArc Amalgamated campus, I looked back to make sure we had not lost anyone. Adjacent to the guard shack complex was an employee entrance with something that looked like a turnstile, a roadway with a lifting barrier, and a visitor entrance that led up to the squat building.

There was also a painted and lighted crosswalk that went to a parking lot on the opposite side of the avenue. Given the car ownership rate in Silvana, and the rest of the House, it was surprisingly large, which showed the high pay rate the skilled laborers working for MuArc could demand. Which was right and proper, even if for many their guilds took a cut; after all retirement stipends and other benefits were paid by such dues. On the other wing, I felt the guilds themselves had too little competition amongst each other. On the hypothetical thirds wing, I was not here to reform labor relations.

However, the parking lot did show that we could have driven here, if I was willing to check out a car from the War College motor pool. Though I would have needed GreyDawn, or someone else to drive. I did note with some irony that I was a Legion Flier but I did not have experience with a simple automobile.

I appreciated that the guard shack, what was functionally a concrete pillbox, was dressed up slightly to look less aggressive and brutalist. Going under an archway in the fence my horns felt the tingle of quiescent wards.

Well, that made sense. MuArc purchased plenty of ward emitters from Mercantile Aviation and would know how to construct, or simply order a large defensive system. Though fixed defenses would only be part of it. This was a facility that built Ritual Plate. And they employed many test pilots. Their security staff had to have at least a couple squadrons of Ritual Plate.

The security was also important as the whole campus butted up to a Household Fleet base and they even shared some landing facilities, hangars and traffic control.

"Name?" the blonde guard asked. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid and she wore a red tunic with black trim and pants. There were a few other security personnel in the shack, one of whom was at a scrying station.

I kept in a little sigh. "Primus Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust. My flight and Ritualista have an appointment with the Polyxo Enchantment Systems Integration team."

The guard nodded and asked for my identification. I handed her over the leather billfold that contained my Imperial Legion paperwork, my library card, and my certificate of novitiate status in Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady.

The blonde curled her lips and looked to her companion at the scrying station who nodded. She then motioned for me to step to the side and repeat the process with my companions.

I could see a few areas with room for improvement in their security procedures, but overall I appreciated their caution. At least having a uniform and a title was not enough to get in. The gate slid back and the guard motioned that we could proceed.

Once on the campus proper, the air had more of a hum and the scent of incense was somehow fresher. The smell of hot metal and the bitter caustic chemicals used for etching also tickled my nose. Still, the grounds were nice enough. I took some comfort in the simple design of landscaping.

If the walk from the guard shack to the lobby had been full of lush gardens and indulgent fountains I would have been more worried about MuArc's priorities when it came to funding.

The lobby was a cavernous affair with white-painted girders and sparkling tiled floors. Several hallways branched off of the lobby but they were all behind doors with security staff standing sentry. Numerous banners dangled from the ceiling as well as a variety of wind chimes.

A small crowd of workers bustled in and out, along with a handful of other Legionaries and Fleet personnel. There was even a group of Fleet Pilots in their dress whites escorting a pair of dark-blue uniformed Alecton Navy Pilots.

Our group had slowed as the Vs and many of the Ritualista stopped to inspect the displayed sets of Ritual Plate standing on plinths either side of the lobby. The display looked like it included all the major variants of the Polyxo and Harmonia as well as their predecessors, including a number of prototypes and arcane demonstrator models.

Gibbs saw me briefly studying the bulkier lines of a Polyxo Mark 3. "It's a mock up," she noted.

"Yes, obviously it's been stripped down, and all the armaments have been replaced by etched sheet metal formed to approximately the right dimensions and color, but the basic framework of the suit itself is original."

My chief Ritualista shrugged. "I suppose keeping them here does amuse the local Zephyr."

"And do they play in the suits?" Visha asked with glee.

Gibbs gave her a gimlet stare and evaluated my wingwoman. "Yes, that's one of the reasons why the suits have been deactivated."

"But they're still Ritual Plate suits. Or they were," Visha inspected the suit, her tail swishing. "I mean, these aren't sculptures made to look good in the lobby."

Gibbs nodded.

"Which means they have a thaumaturgical echo as Ritual Plate suits. The components that actually power the Zephyr and interface with our wings may be gone, but the gestalt still remains."

"That is not incorrect," Gibbs grudgingly allowed.

Visha brightened. "That must be very fun for the air spirits!"

"It very much is," a perky voice chirped.

I turned to see a prim woman with an emerald pageboy hairdo and short silver horns, hooves and tail. The membranes of her wings and tail fins were a shade of green just lighter than her hair. She wore a crimson ribbon tie, charcoal coat, dark pencil skirt with red pinstripes, and a matching bodice. Tattooed on her cheeks were a pair of silver vortexes.

Her cheeks dimpled, she smiled at me and bowed her horns. "It's great to see you, Primus Centurion DiamondDust."

"Artificer Melamed? Charmed. It's good to finally meet you in person."

Asher Melamed's grin grew and she introduced herself to the others. "I'm looking forward to talking with you about your concerns and I know the rest of the team wants to talk to you."

My tail slowed slightly. The whole team? That had to number dozens of people, far too many to have an actual useful back and forth. Though I suppose we could at least present our findings.

Asher had an infectiously warm if adamantine disposition that had us going along with her. Literally, in that we followed her to a reception area where we got guest badges and then out of the lobby and through one of the security doors. She chatted happily with everyone though seemed to get along particularly well with Visha.

"Did the itinerary change? I suppose we could do our presentation as a lecture. Will we be presenting in an amphitheater? Do you have a lectern with projection capabilities?" I inquired as we went down a long hallway with widely spaced doors on the walls.

The artificer blinked. "Oh no, the itinerary is still the same. The plan is to have several meetings with different members of the team."

I gave a slow nod. That seemed reasonable. "Sounds good, I look forward to a productive day."

Melamed's smile was reassuring, but Gibbs gave me a cynical look while GreyDawn's tail flicked awkwardly.

++++++++++

If not for the MuArc Amalgamated having decent coffee I would have been most cross. In concept, having separate meetings with a variety of the members of the Enchantment Systems Integration, Polyxo Division, would provide space for topic specific conversations where our concerns could be properly matched to the stakeholders who owned the specific issues at hand.

Instead the multiple meetings proved to be a frustrating morass of institutionally diffuse responsibility. For three hours we went to various sub-teams: power management and heat bleed, runic design and engraving, life span and fatigue, controls and spirit binding, and component assembly.

Each group agreed with our issues but would suggest that the ultimate responsibility was another group's. After the first couple fruitless meetings, I had my team split up to tackle more in an attempt to narrow things down.

The only mitigating factors, other than the caffeine, was that Melamed seemed to be genuinely trying to assemble the correct people and that the designers and artificers we were talking to also wanted to help; they were just too hidebound by the rules of their institution.

It was frustrating to deal with people so inflexible. I knew they'd implement whatever changes to fix our issues, if we presented them with forms to that effect signed by their supervisors.

But now, things were better. At the very least, the people sitting around the polished wood table in the conference room could actually make these calls and knew what we were talking about.

The room itself was a long rectangle with a dog-leg at one end. On the second story, a whole wall had a row of windows that overlooked an open manufacturing floor. The view was partially blocked by an overhead crane mechanism that was parked on one side, but it did give a view of a large receiving dock, a long line of machining stations, inspecting and testing jigs, and at the edges of the view were engraving and etching baths with their tanks of caustic fluids, containment runes in isolation circles, and various fire suppression equipment.

I could not see any completed Ritual Plate from all the way up here, or even anything that looked remotely suit-like. Not that I had much focus on what was out through the windows. I had more interest in who we were talking with.

Artificer Melamed was still here, for once not looking nervously apologetic. With her was a comfortable family-looking woman with long dark blue hair wearing a set of Pilot fatigues. It was no affectation; she had been flying just beforehand. Former Household Fleet, SwiftSapphire was MuArc's chief test pilot. She was also a key consultant and one of the approvers to modifications to production suit designs.

She was wearing a flight suit because Melamed, in a show of foresight, had called her away from testing a prototype suit as soon as feasible. I was not sure what oversight had led to the original scheduling conflict.

SwiftSapphire was an experienced lifer who I wanted to impress. Not just because her word carried a lot of weight among the Polyxo project team, but because, as a test pilot for a major Ritual Plate producer, she had my dream job.

Sitting next to her was a sweetly-smiling, zaftig woman with curled horns and amber hair pulled in a messy braid. Glasses perched on her round face, although the impression of curving softness was somewhat marred by the set of harsh, almost spearing lines tattooed across her cheeks. The tattoos were the only indication that she was a weapons designer.

If SwiftSapphire radiated a maternal rigor then Sophia Subiaco, evocation guild mistress, was a playful aunt. While her expertise was in evocation emitters, Mistress Subiaco was very familiar with high-powered and precision arcana systems and had a remit that crossed several teams. After she had attended the third meeting in the fruitless morning portion, she decided to simply tag along, much to Melamed's relief. Subiaco was one of the few people who could sign off on our work, but her abundance of caution had kept her from committing to anything as of yet.

Rounding out this group was a rarity: a human. Mashiyat Ayyub was a mage. A bit more on the abstract end, he worked on integration and optimization. Much of the olive-skinned man's work lay in taking an existing schema and figuring out how to decrease manufacturing cost, reduce power bleed in operation and increase life span.

Essentially, his work seemed like blend of using computational suites where spirits of intellect dwelled to come up with theoretical solutions and running small pre-production batches off to test those solutions on. Clean-shaven with a skinny tie over a grey waistcoat, and sporting a flat-top crew cut, Magus Ayyub looked little the part of a wizard's wizard, at least until you gazed into his cold blue eyes and spotted the badge of his own guild he wore on a chain from his waistcoat or the steel staff that flickered with the occasional rune as the crystals within fluoresced with minute changes in air pressure.

Like Mistress Subiaco, he was skeptical of my proposals, but while originally invited he had declined to attend the earlier meetings. Apparently, he loathed meetings and had planned to spend the day in his laboratory. However, Mistress Subiaco's continued attendance as well as Chief Pilot SwiftSapphire's vote of confidence in us had piqued his interest sufficiently to earn his attendance.

There were a few specialists and other experts who would float in and out, but this quartet made up the core of this improved batch of meetings.

A sheaf of semi-translucent paper sat on the table. On it was a set of layered blueprints that depending on which page you were on could peel back the layers and subsystems of a Polyxo Mark 15.

Upon seeing this visual aide, Wizard Ayyub gave Mistress Subiaco a dry look and summoned up a coherent display over the table that was a three-dimensional illusion of the suit. Subiaco returned with an indulgent smile and took out a grease pen to make a few notes on the hardcopy blueprints.

"Okay, I think that's settled the lubrication issues on the upper vambrace gasket," Melamed stated as she made some notes.

As a person-sized flight suit, Ritual Plate had a lot of moving parts, and the interior of the suit was designed to be pressurized to allow for operation at altitude. That meant there was a whole host of joints, seals, and gaskets. And that was just on the suit itself, while most of the arcane systems had fewer moving parts, they did require their own treatments. There were bigger seals and ones with more range of motion but because of that those seals had extra reinforcement. Though the vambrace problem would only happen under a specific set of circumstances. The fact that the mounting points for various weapons emitters and their feed lines went through that area still made it a notable concern.

"I warned Purchasing that switching to that supplier would cause issues in cases of snapping from extreme humidity to high altitude," Magus Ayyub grumbled.

"And they thought it was a lower order risk," Mistress Subiaco sipped her tea. "That, and the supplier's test data seemed solid."

Ayyub just glared.

"There's a reason a lot of field Ritualista will do a full seal swap, and if they can't justify that, clean and redo all the lubrication." Pilot SwiftSapphire eyed Optio Gibbs with a small grin. "Though, you'll be surprised at how fast parts wear out in the field and end up getting pulled early due to some surprise defect."

"Ma'am," the Ritualista flatly stated. "We adhere to all maintenance protocols."

"Including the ones allowing field expediency to maintain Pilot survivability." Shrugging, SwiftSapphire gestured to the report we had brought. "I'm not accusing you of slipshod work, Optio. Having a Primus who commissions a report like this indicates a centurion who knows what's important for her maintainers and what's not."

I gave a small smile. The vote of confidence was helpful. I would need to see if I could arrange for a meeting with SwiftSapphire. Maybe GreyDawn, or even Reinhild, could figure out what her hobbies were.

"If we can convince the tallymen that we're wasting money on a bunch of gaskets that get replaced anyway, then we could try to go back to the old supplier." Magus Ayyub frowned. Fiscally, suit maintenance was... complicated. Depending on when something was replaced, and why, a lot of the labor and parts could be charged back to MuArc.

"What if the new supplier goes with a better grade lubricant?" Subiaco asked.

Ayyub, Melamed, and the Ritualista grimaced. "That would require recertification," Melamed admitted, her sunny disposition cracking. "Which would take time."

"And to think you gave up flying for this," Wizard Ayyub joked to SwiftSapphire before he ate some of the cheese he'd taken from the refreshments arrayed on a side table.

"Eh, I was just doing some energy distribution testing on the Pinnacle's maneuvering and Zephyr power array," the Pilot shrugged.

"The Pinnacle is your arcane demonstrator?" VioletBlood asked.

"It's a test rig," SwiftSapphire sipped coffee that looked just as thick as Fleet issue. MuArc had better coffee; it had to be her preference.

"Still, it must be exciting. Are there improvements in maneuverability and speed? What subsystems?" the baroness eagerly asked, making her presence known. I managed to keep from wincing. Was she trying to help me with my goals? Or was this networking on her own.

"That's a bit beyond today's discussion. But later we can give you some brochures and test footage." SwiftSapphire gave her an indulgent smile, as if she were talking to a broodling.

"The Pinnacle is also refitted every few months, I don't think it's been armed in a year." Ayyub noted.

"We did some live fire calibration testing with a new scrying system six months ago," SwiftSapphire corrected.

"Oh, but, still, it's cutting edge," VioletBlood insisted, more to herself than anyone else.

"Which is why it's a hangar queen that requires a dozen Ritualista and can fly a couple times a week." The pilot ate a strawberry. "Well, I exaggerate, slightly. A lot of that maintenance work is to keep the telemetry systems operating, and we have a slower tempo because all the data collected with each test needs to be analyzed."

"But enough about experimental rigs," Melamed was all smiles. "Optio Gibbs, I believe you have some questions about the starboard flight stabilizer array?"

As Gibbs paged through her notes Visha flipped to the relevant section on the blueprints and Ayyub similarly adjusted the illusion he had cast. "There is a type 44-C Amplification rune on the starboard flight stabilizer array but not on the left. What is it there for?"

"The manual says it's for an auxiliary power unit, but that's actually what the type 60-A rune closer to the array's feed-line does," Visha's chief Ritualista noted.

The MuArc employees were a mix of confused and perplexed at this revelation and leaned over the various diagrams of the arcane energies as they went through the details of that array.

After half a minute, Melamed gave a frown. "We are not sure."

I managed to keep my composure. Ritual Plate was massively complicated, and even if these people had been on the original design team, which not all of them were, it would be unreasonable to expect them to know every component by heart."

"What would the Type 44-C do here? I've only seen them used in scrying systems where very carefully regulated power needs to be supplied to receivers."

Mistress Subiaco, the evocation specialist, had a thoughtful frown as she studied the blueprints and then pulled a manual and some other documentation up.

"We don't know," Wizard Ayyub frowned.

My concern increased slightly. "Can we have that as an action to figure it out?" I diplomatically asked.

A bit of his gruffness fading, Ayyub nodded. "We can add it to the list of the parts to pull in the next iteration of the Polyxo. What pointed you to this? Was it a parts survey? Or did the amplifier fail and cause the stabilizer array to fault?"

"I was rebuilding both stabilizer arrays after combat damage and noted the differences. They're not identical, mirroring aside, there are things like the port array being a bit smaller to accommodate the hydration tubes passing through, but even accounting for all that, there's still some differences," Gibbs stated.

Right, that was when I had been shot up over the jungle... or was it after the sea engagement? I had seen more flippant weapons developers, but it was still concerning that, when shown something they had no idea about, an inflight system they had been producing for years no less, they treated the issue more as an interesting puzzle to solve than a horrific oversight to immediately correct. Though... it's not like the issue was big enough for me to kick it up to Quirinus and her superiors to demand an immediate investigation.

GreyDawn's innate cynicism seemed to keep her from being surprised, meanwhile VioletBlood was pouting and Visha, ever the optimist, looked hopeful.

"We appreciate your patience," Melamed tried to be cheery while her companions began to converse amongst themselves.

"Asher, it's not the first time a suit was stuffed with extra parts it didn't need," SwiftSapphire noted. "On the Mark 18 retrofit project we found a bunch of things in the Harmonia that, due to being out of spec or installed incorrectly, ended up being used for different, unintended functions."

"Yes, development's idea of a secondary warding power system ended up being used as a backup Ballista energy feed. Component integration and project team simply changed the manual and swapped a few lines and called it good," Ayyub sighed as he pushed his notes over to Mistress Subiaco who smiled.

"And that worked, until the retrofit exposed all those issues and the patchwork fixes." SwiftSapphire shook her head.

"Ah! That's what it's there for!" the evocation mistress cheered.

We turned to her with interest.

"This Type 44 Amplifier was originally planned as an auxiliary power supply, but later design iterations replaced that role with a component that had greater throughput and less precision," Mistress Sophia Subiaco said as she paged through a thick binder. "Now, you'll be saying that we all know that, so why was it retained? Well look at this."

The arcanist pulled out a picture of the starboard flight stabilizer array. However, unlike the depictions in the blueprints it was not an abstracted diagram showing the various components and their links. Rather, it provided the actual physical layout of the array.

Gibbs tilted her head, frowning minutely.

Ayyub rotated the blueprint ninety degrees and grunted.

"See! The 44 is on a cantilevered section of the array's substrate right between these two support pads. I don't know about you but it looks an awful lot like a strain gauge. Especially if it's energized."

"Yes, but the positioning gyroscopes and load gauges are lower in the stabilizer arrays. This is just a... vestigial component, it doesn't do anything," Melamed frowned as if unsure of her own words.

SwiftSapphire and Visha gave a long blink. "But it can be used?" the test pilot asked.

"That's my theory! I'll have to dig into the design documentation of this iteration but I think we're seeing the legacy of a sort of... calibration system."

"Well someone's using it," Gibbs stated. "There's enough wear on that Type 44 to indicate use."

"Are the Zephyr using it?" Visha asked.

The room grew silent for a moment as we all pondered that.

Ayyub laughed. "Figures they'd play with something in the suit. Like putting in a wind chime, or a hollow orb full of beads." The wizard stroked his beard. "But... "

"Are they playing or working?" I asked. "Air spirits are clever. They can intuit a lot of the inputs and instrument feedback."

Gibbs sighed. "I suppose this means we can't simply yank them out of the array? I would hate to deprive the Zephyr from their fun," she stated utterly deadpan.

"It does explain how we've gone through over a dozen production iterations without anyone else deleting this component," Ayyub stated as if he was personally affronted that some aspect of the Polyxo design had escaped his notice over the years.

"We'll have to spin up a project to examine what happens with and without the Type 44. Though, if this is helping the suit's performance then we could try to formalize it and make it work even better," Melamed brightly said.

"It wouldn't be the first time we lucked into an elegant design solution," SwiftSapphire snorted. The test Pilot then glanced over at us, the active Legionary Fliers. "You didn't hear that."

"We did not," I agreed. Hopefully, this bit of professional courtesy would help purchase a little good will from MuArc's team, and it would help my future goals to be on good terms with a test pilot.

"Next item then?" Melamed looked down at our list. "Ah, issues with the tool access working inside the sabaton support struts."

My interest rose as I sipped my coffee. Not just because Gibbs complained about the poor angles the access hatches gave and I was eager to hear the end of that particular bellyache, but also because I was suddenly filled with the slender hope that a redesign of the Polyxo's boots could lead to something a bit more practical to walk around in.

"Is this due to a structural issue or something with the layout?" SwiftSapphire asked as the diagrams and blueprints zoomed to focus on the suit's lower legs.

There was a knock on the door.

Puzzled, Melamed stood up and let a woman with long white hair into the room. Just like Melamed, the new arrival wore red-accented business-wear. "Apologies," she bowed her horns. "But we have a pair of visitors in the lobby."

"Oh?" Melamed asked.

"Yes, a pair of Optio- I'm sorry Cadet Optio Legionaries. They say they're part of Countess DiamondDust's party." the receptionist shrugged. "They were quite insistent on the countess part."

I tried not to sigh as the collective attention of the room focused on me. "Tell me, did one of them have pink hair and emphasize her family name?"

Tail flicking, the white-haired woman nodded. "Yes, she did mention that she was Lavish RoseTalon of the Belum RoseTalons."

"I didn't realize you had additional people visiting us," Melamed said diplomatically.

"I did not." Standing, I momentarily wished my vinewood discipline staff was close at hand. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go and determine if my... subordinates, somehow, have a valid reason to be here or if I need to provide correction."

++++++++++

The banners fluttered angrily as I entered the lobby. As my tail flicked from side to side, I spotted RoseTalon's distinctive pink hair, long enough to just barely brush the collar of her tailored cadet uniform. She was not alone. In addition to a fawning MuArc secretary, another one of my cadets stood beside the vexsome noble.

A disappointed noise may have escaped my lip as I identified RoseTalon's companion. Pulivia was one of the more promising students in my class. She knew the right questions to ask, and more importantly was capable of putting her ego aside while in the air.

The wind at my back and my boots clicking on the tile floor, I strode up to the trio who stood examining the line of earlier Polyxo variants on display.

"What has brought two so very promising Optio cadets such as yourselves so far away from your busy studies this fine afternoon? And whatever bought you to visit our fine friends at MuArc Amalgamated today of all days?" I asked archly.

Pulivia lowered her gaze as if she could hide behind her jade green bangs. Lavish, on the other hand, adopted the confused yet affronted expression I found so common among a certain type of noble utterly lacking in mental agility. "I'm here to help!" she sniffed.

I? Not we? Fascinating. I stared the heir of the RoseTalon family down before giving Meritus Pulivia a fractionally less harsh look. Pulivia looked visibly hurt by the possibly inadvertent exclusion. I wondered why RoseTalon had even bothered dragging her along.

"Help." My tone was not acidic, mocking, or even sarcastic; it was simply dismissive. "That is why you were several hours late?"

"Nothing gets accomplished in the first few hours at meetings like this," Lavish scoffed.

That the senator's daughter was correct in that particular was the proverbial straw that pushed me over the tipping point and into outright, if still controlled, anger. Before I could begin the tongue-lashing Lavish so richly served, I noticed, something about her statement had made the other cadet, Pulivia, frown. How interesting...

The MuArc secretary, correctly reading the mood of the conversation, picked up the tray of refreshments and quietly stepped back to the reception desk. Quite the wise move on her part.

"Cadets, what do you think your role here is, exactly?" I managed not to hiss through my teeth.

I also somehow resisted the impulse to rip the patronizing, smug expression from Lavish's face along with her oh-so-carefully pampered hide. "Countess, I do have a special perspective on high level negotiations such as these."

"Ah, I see there are some severe errors in your understanding of your current role in our House's service." My smile was all fangs. "First, allow me to say that I am skeptical as to what actual experience you have with such events, other than being feted as a pretty up and coming bauble by sycophants eager to suck... well let us simply say suck up to a Senator."

Lavish's cheeks flushed purple. Normally I eschewed crude speech, but I was a Legionary Flier and my DarkStar-cursed reputation gave me more latitude. I held up a finger cutting off any angry retort either cadet might be foolish enough to make.

"Either way, even if you two had some insight into such negotiations, the sensible course of action would have been to bring them to my attention beforehand. Then I would have been able to decide what to do with your information, as well as with the both of you."

Pulivia almost looked like she wanted to hide behind her wings. Though I suppose the strong breeze in the lobby was not helping. Then her curiosity got the better of her. "Ma'am... What is the second part?"

My tail flicked. "Ah yes. The first problem was the assumptions about your knowledge and the utter incompetence displayed when you attempted to leverage that presumed information. The second problem is a fundamental misunderstanding of what this meeting is about and whom I am meeting."

"You're meeting with movers and shakers in MuArc," Lavish stated confidently, glaring insolently back at me.

"And even a test pilot, one of the Pinnacle fliers," Pulivia added, more timidly and with less of a confrontational air.

My eyes smoldered and it took effort to not set anything aflame. "Today's itinerary," I ground out, "consists of presentations and discussions with a list of concerns and lessons learnt from field service. This is not just my own work, not just my squadron's time in the jungles, or even the experiences of all of the units who served in that whole theater, but is indeed collected from Polyxo users and maintainers from across the Legions."

"Then this meeting is very important!" Lavish rallied. "Therefore I must respectfully insist that my skills are vital for such a-"

With the blade of my hand, I cut her off. "Cadet, you are under the mistaken belief that important equals glamorous. Let me assure you that in the Imperial Legions that is a dangerous assumption to make."

"The prototype?" Pulivia asked hesitantly.

"We're not here to see some arcana testbed. We're talking about gaskets, and extra parts in flight stabilizers." I gave the jade-haired cadet my full attention. "Why are you here? Are you trying to impress me with your family connections as well."

"I asked her here," Lavish interrupted, her tail straightened and pointed to the ground like a spear. "Ma'am, that is I ordered her to drive me."

"She was your ride? Oh, do explain." I slowly enunciated as I kept my ire up. I wanted to throttle the young RoseTalon, but having the sense and esprit de corps to not sell out a fellow was a virtue. And not quite the vainglorious sacrifice she doubtless dreamed of making.

"Cadet Pulivia has a Mammon Motors Hornet and since I did not have my own car, nor access to the staff motor pool, I pressured her into driving me," Lavish explained, straight-backed, stiff tailed.

The Hornet was a speedy little coupe, and Mammon Motors had a reputation as reliable if rather upscale cars. Not exactly what a darling of society would be driving around in, however.

My gaze flicked to Pulivia who nodded. "My older sister picked up a used one for my birthday last year and helped me repair, detail, and repaint it. It was a fun project," she admitted.

"Frugal, family-bonding, and learning skills all in a single project. Well done." I gave a brief bow of my horns. A spike of worry and... jealousy came off of Lavish.

"You, on the other hand," I began, turning back to RoseTalon, "have shown that you are in possession of dangerous amount of free time coupled with a lack of... refinement in your judgment about how to use that ever scarce resource."

"Countess, um... Ma'am, Lavish did have a personal reason for the suddenness of our arrival," Pulivia said, her words coming out in a tumble. "She did not plan to, ah, well... just crash the meeting and to be so late, but events beyond her control came up."

Lavish's eyes narrowed and she stared at the other noble brat. "What are you doing?" she hissed

Pulivia crossed her arms. "You insisted that I pick you up early this morning, but instead of leaving promptly you spent four hours with your little sister."

The color drained from Lavish's face. "Leave her out of this."

I put a hand to the base of my left horn. "Is this family drama germane to your poor life choices? Please be aware that I am still considering exactly what your punishments will be."

Assuming a confident and amenable expression, Lavish bowed her head. "Perhaps we have taken enough of your time, Ma'am. We can, of course, receive our discipline at your convenience."

"At my convenience?" I flexed my hand. "Oh, it's too late for that. You brought me down here, Cadet. Perhaps you should have simply spent the day with your little sister."

"Leilah would have been happier with that," Lavish admitted.

"I thought she wanted a test pilot's autograph?" Pulivia asked.

Lavish's tail twitched.

I gave a slight grin. "Broodlings can be like that. My nieces would be just as enthusiastic, but we're older and more mature than them. Or at least, we're supposed to be."

Both cadets stared at me. Lavish hesitated for a moment but then simply nodded.

"I know, I don't exactly act my age." My tone was a bit disarming. I cursed my gregarious nature trying to put them at ease. I was going to punish these cadets. I had already spent too much time indulging them in conversation.

"And Leilah is sort of the opposite," Lavish noted bitterly.

"She's a very sweet sister, I had a great time with her this morning and-" Pulivia's encouraging tone curdled off when Lavish glared with something new, a powerful protective urge.

I held up a hand. "This isn't about your sister, I'm sure she's a lovely young broodling."

"She's older than you," Lavish snapped. "Her orphanage was not quite so well appointed," the heiress' tone was hard and sharp, the pure prim diction of someone leaning on elocution lessons for self control.

My tail slowed. Ah. That did explain the "opposite" comment. With time, food, energy, and treatment our bodies can heal most any physical wound. Unsurprisingly, this did little to temper my kind's cultural arrogance. And it also meant that we did not like to dwell on the non-physical wounds that we had trouble healing. Oh, we had plenty of support, especially in the Fleet and Legions for those with trauma accumulation, and empathy and psionics provided excellent diagnostic tools and in some cases direct treatment.

But it was known what most medical discharges were for psychological traumas.

It was also true that Fleet Sailors and Legion Troopers were not the only ones to suffer from trauma accumulation. Most of pediatric psychology consisted of trying to ameliorate damage sustained by broodlings who had endured a variety of horrifying traumas. If Mother Clementia had not been there for me.... and I was one of the lucky ones given My Duchess's support.

"I did not know your mother was a patron of the orphanage system as well," I observed, keeping my tone even. I was still upset with these bumbling cadets, but I was unsure why such personal topics had come up.

"She had it shut down for gross abuses, and did what she could for the girls who couldn't get adopted or transferred to... better institutions, ones like yours," Lavish's tone was frosty. "But she loves Leilah; we all do."

I gave a tiny bow of my horns. I did not know Senator RoseTalon, and I had only met one of her daughters. Perhaps Lavish was covering for her mother adopting an orphan as some way to signal her compassion, perhaps it was sincere love. Or maybe Lavish had such ire because she knew her mother's heart. However, it seemed no coincidence that Lavish had her... issues with noble orphans such as myself and VioletBlood.

"Maybe we can talk about....." Pulivia's tail straightened.

"Your punishment?" Flashing my fangs, I rallied, glad to be on stronger ground. "I have mentioned it before, but given you have too much time on your claws, and since you obviously want to improve, perhaps you should join the War College Ballet Troupe. They have stage performance and precision team flying. I know that young, and young at heart, demons do find it thrilling."

Lavish managed not to snort in amusement. Which was good because that lack of respect would have added to her punishment.

"Now for your punishment." Tail swishing, I clasped my hands behind my back. "Tomorrow you will report to Optio Gibbs. You will request a set of diagnostic tools and you will accept the equipment she gives you."

The two cadets wisely held their tongues.

"Working together, you will complete a full takedown of your Polydora trainers. I expect a full subsystem power trace. You will compare your findings with the maintenance logs."

The two stared. Pulivia winced while the Senator's daughter gawked. "That... is very involved, Ma'am," Pulivia allowed. That was an understatement. Even a full Ritualista team would find that to be a full shift of effort.

"You wanted to help," I smiled in return, "and to show your value, did you not? You wanted to prove that you deserve to attend meetings like this."

Lavish glanced around and nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. It will be done."

"Good," I said brightly. "Because that is only the first part of your punishment. Once your analysis is complete, I expect you to present your findings, methodology, and lessons learnt to the rest of the cadet squadron, and to submit a formal report to the War College."

Pulivia gave a thoughtful nod while Lavish frowned.

"If you want to become Legion Fliers then you will need to be capable of your own research and then disseminating your findings. Information is power, but it is useless if it is not cataloged and used to teach."

Lavish looked like she was about to speak but Pulivia took her hand and shook her head.

I chuckled. Let Lavish think she was getting off easy. Giving my cadets more of their own coursework would make my job easier. "You can go now. Dismissed."

Their relief was amusing as they saluted and made for the lobby's exit,

"Oh, Cadet RoseTalon, when I get back to the meeting I will ask if SwiftSapphire can autograph something, for Leilah."

Tail flicking, Lavish stopped after a moment she bowed her horns to me. And then the two cadets were gone and I could get back to my work. The banners had finally started to calm down.

++++++++++

This life was one of penance.

I had been born into a world where our natures as fallen creatures, our statues as beings of sin, was made blatant in the extreme. The unambiguous clarity was its own balm. Every time I looked at my reflection, I saw the price I had paid for my arrogance, for my wrath.

A representative of the Almighty had ushered me into this world, a being of terrifying absolute moral certainty. By His grace I had been offered a choice, face my ultimate Judgment or be reborn to undergo a penitent journey.

For my failures, for my sins, for my cowardice to face Judgment, I had chosen to be reborn, with the humanity given to me by the Creator stripped away. Justly stripped away, for I had proven myself unworthy to be made in His image. But God was not without His forgiveness.

My fingers ached as I finished my prayers. I liked to think that was a sign of my faith, that I was a true penitent. Sadly, I knew the pang was just one of many lingering pains from the surgeries I had eagerly embraced as part of my path to redemption.

There was a knock on the door of my quarters.

"Enter," I said, raising to my feet. At least I had avoided the indignity of a cloven hooved form in this strange and infernal new life.

Another fallen being, one in the black, glossy habit of Our Hallowed Lady, stepped into the room. We were both chaplains in the Andromachin military.

However, for Sister Euphoria, being a sister was her primary role, where for me being Sister RedLash was a secondary duty. I rubbed my hands looking at the inlay-like silver lines that streaked down my arms to my fingers.

"You're looking well," Euphoria smiled, showing her fangs. It was not an aggressive display; she was trying to be reassuring.

I nodded and made sure my light sandy-brown hair was pulled back, that I kept some modesty. Integrating into this new life might have been easier had I been born with more of a demonic form, like some of the others, but I suppose the recognition of trace of my own true faith in the reflection of the young demoness I was growing into was part of the punishment, the enlightenment. It was a cruel, barbed thing, as insidious and damaged as a hook without the simple remedy presented by removal and stitches. It benefited the scourge of the Most High.

And yet, even in this hellhole, I had been shown compassion. As I had born into this world as a demon, I had no father to lose. A small mercy, but one I was thankful for. I hoped I would one day reunite with my own father, though I doubted he would ever recognize me.

"Are you taking well to the binding surgeries?" Euphoria asked, her hooves clicking on the concrete floor.

"The doctors are impressed with my fortitude, my faith," I stated. The Angel made it clear that my choices, my penances were up to me.

Euphoria smiled. "I am glad. It is momentous that you have gotten so far, and so young and..."

She trailed off. The demon did not need to speak. We were both members of the Church of DarkStar. And despite my loyalty to my new home, demonic though it was, there were still rumors that we were spies for House BlackSky. Not that it mattered, we were Andromache, the smallest Great House. At the crossroads of Diyu, we had many faiths, cultures, and languages. We had to be cordial with all of the big three Houses to keep the medium Houses from invading. I felt the familiar rage at being part of a smaller nation bullied and exploited by larger ones.

Just because I understood did not mean that I liked it. House Elena was arrogant and prideful. Luxon reveled in being fallen, little more than a pack of libertines. And then there was House BlackSky.

I cared little for the propaganda House BlackSky pumped out and called high culture: opera, ballet, racing, gladiatorial games.

There was always a fresh crop of warlike young noble pilots who were the "hot new thing" in House BlackSky. Maybe they will be useful, but I had learned what happened when you flew too high, when you let rage and righteousness blind you.

I tried to avoid the glitz of it all. I was a simple pilot; I had been a fantastic air mage. I personally found House Andromache's means of bonding enchantments and spirits into a pilot to be mortifying. But I took every surgery, every time my bones were engraved and inlaid as part of my penance. Unlike most other Houses, we eschewed bulky external suits, instead our Ritual Plate components were integrated with us, within us; my Zephyr were a part of me. I could feel them inside my wings, running along my tail.

I took every cut and procedure with the minimal analgesics. That did hasten my healing, and once it was proven that I could handle the trauma, Operations allowed the surgical artificers to do more precise work in a given session.

This suffering was deserved. If not for my weakness in battle, if not for my sins, I would not be living this life of punishment. No... for my sins I deserved Judgment. It was by the love and forgiveness of the Almighty that my penitent request had been granted.

"Are you feeling okay?" Euphoria asked, she sounded sincere. She sounded empathic and friendly. With her open face, long black hair, and her kind soul, I wondered what great sins she had committed to earn her punishment here, in this corrupted realm. "Maybe we can go out? I know you won't be cleared to fly until the doctors have had another look at you..."

I turned my head away and thought of my oaths of chastity, poverty, and charity. "Maybe, if I can get off base."

"This is your first time in Myr," Euphoria offered. "And I'd love to show you around."

"It is more green than being back up on Lantia." My younger years had been spent on the smaller of Diyu's two moons. It had been easier to have a youth of penance in isolation. But my dreams of... of atonement came true when I had been tested. Andromache was a small power and needed every edge it could get.

It was determined that I had an affinity for air spirits and magic. As soon as that discover was made and brought to my knowledge, that was that: I had found my path. The Angel had been correct in its assertion that I would, not that I had any justification to doubt an emissary of the Almighty.

"Maaria?" Euphoria asked as she led me out of my quarters. I was a newly bonded Pilot, so I rated my own room, at least until I recovered from my operations. I did enjoy the solitude. I had tried to get to know my fellow pilots so we could work as a team, at least when in the air, but had met with minimal success.

I gave her an apologetic smile, realizing I had lost track of the conversation. "I'm sorry, Sister. Please forgive me. I missed what you were saying. Diyu proper is still a bit overwhelming to a simple girl like me."

We stepped out into the sun of a terrace that overlooked Myr, capital of Andromache. The city was lovely, and Euphoria laughed. I took in the view of people seemingly enjoying themselves, even using boats and pleasure craft. There was a lesson. My punishment was not ashen skies and lakes of fire. The only tortures I faced were the ones I brought upon myself.

And those were for clarity and spiritual power.

It did not take long for us to get to a cafe that served hot noodle dishes. "May She one day return to us," we both intoned after finishing grace and starting on a sour and spicy soup.

"I have heard rumors about that," Euphoria noted.

"In Silvana?" I noted with a little smile. DarkStar had suffered for her Faith: she had been betrayed and tortured and torn apart. Of the many and strange religions in this world it was the one that... called to me.

"That is where her family lives, Maaria."

I shrugged. "BlackSky claims ownership to the Faith and what do they use it for? For cheap knick knacks and blasphemous comics."

"They're not all bad," Euphoria defended. "Some are valid scripture, just made in a way more accessible to broodlings."

Stretching my heavy crimson tail, I sipped my tea. The tingling in my tail-fins was getting better. The temptation for self-flagellation was there, but there were regulations about Mortification both in the church and the military. "Do tell."

"Okay, fine. A lot of it is total bunkum, like these new ones with where the pious Jungle Fox prays for Her help to smite the Houseless unbelievers."

"Who?" I put my cup down.

"Countess DiamondDust? The Ballerina Ace? She's a Pilot, a Legionary Flier. She was all the rage several years ago when she made Ace up in House RedStorm with just her Faith and her Mother's sword. It was in all the broadsheets."

"Sister, I was living on Lantia at the time," I stated, but something... I tried to drink from my cup but my hand shook a bit. Was I arrogant enough to assume... I knew I was not the only penitent on this world...

"Are you okay?"

"Just some tremors, they say that can happen when you're healing."

Euphoria bowed her head. "Apologies. I think you might like the Countess. Yes, she is BlackSkyvian bloody-handed nobility through and through, but she was raised by members of our Order and is a novitiate sister herself."

My mouth was dry. "Tell me more about this countess."

End ch17


Uriel did warn Tauria about this way at the start of things.


Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Readhead, Scarlet Fox, Afforess, WrandmWaffles and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.

And special thanks for Readhead for giving this chapter some extra polish, especially with Tauria's insecurities, her voice, her ire for nobles, and all of Mary's... issues.

 

[RogueInquisitor]

I abounded the glare as futile and stoically suffered through the indignity of being patted on the head.

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Abandoned, not abounded.

VioletBlood gave me a strained, trying for gravely sympathetic.

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I think you're missing a noun after strained.

Which was odd, coming from her,I always thought she was more of a cat person.

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Space missing after the comma.

Want ot join us?

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To, not ot.

And then as one they charged, plates and cups forgotten, quickly and collected by the attentive maids who saw an opportunity to reduce the eventual mess and exploited it to maximum effect.

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Word missing before collected.

'They say the same of about us,"

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Either of or about, not both.

Tough as always it's the smaller airframes that can be more reasonably made quiet.

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Though, not tough.

GreyDawn was my old hand in the complex layered world of centurions which was a broad category of officer ranks in charge of everything between Centuries, Pilots, vehicle Troops.

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Probably want an and after Pilots.

after all retirement stipends and other benefits were paid by such dies

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Dues, not dies.

Going under an archway in the fence my horns tingle of quiescent wards.

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Feels off. Maybe tingled instead of tingle, or made after fence?

and my certificate of novitiate status in Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady.

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Why is Hallowed italicised?

He apparently, he loathed meetings and had planned to spend the day in his laboratory.

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I think you only need one he.

A sheaf ofsemi-translucent paper sat on the table.

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Space missing between of and semi.

She knew the right questions to ask, and more importantly was capable of putting to put her ego aside while in the air.

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Putting or put, not both.

 

[yacov]

Welp, looks like another rival has appeared.

 

[Sunshine]

Why is Hallowed italicised?

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I'm not.... sure. It's not in the master document and when I look at the formatting I don't see it being in italics.

Thanks for the corrections! I made all the changes on it and re-uploaded the chapter

Welp, looks like another rival has appeared.

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Heh. Mary was mentioned wayyyy back before chapter 1