A Young Girl's Criminal Record (Youjo Senki/Worm)

Summary: Tanya & friends enjoy a well-earned early retirement in scenic, peaceful Brockton Bay. Well, relative to the Eastern Front, anyway. Returned to a modern world and freed from her military obligations, will Tanya finally achieve the peaceful life for which she's always strove? No. No, she will not.

CW: Major Character Death, Grief, Very Bad Coping Strategies

A\N: This is my first attempt at long-form writing. Constructive criticism welcome. I've got a decent amount planned out, and most of chapter 2 written, but no promises at all as to update rate since I'm still figuring this sort of writing out. I'm taking some liberties with YS's magic system, inspired by the excellent work done by jacobk and Gremlin Jack, since it's not very well fleshed out in canon, and what's there isn't that great. Italics for Germanian dialogue, for communication formula dialogue.

AU Notes: On the Worm side, the divergence point is a slightly different Leviathan fight. Dauntless avoided the time stop effect. Several of the Travelers died, setting Echidna off early. More details will come out as the story progresses. On the YS side... Well, you'll figure it out.

1.1

-- Tanya von Degurechaff --

A flash of white, a muted pop, and I was somewhere else. Biting chill winds replaced with a subtle coastal breeze. Artillery-pocked Russy hellscape replaced with a city that to all appearances had hardly been shelled at all. A kilometer of altitude reduced to a mere 50 meters. No gunsmoke in the air. Less blood and rot steeping in stagnant water, though not none.

I took quick stock of the situation. My command platoon except-- My command platoon had made the transition with me (due to proximity?). A brief inspection of our surroundings bore out my initial assessment: some damaged buildings, some flooding, and... an area a few blocks north where the street, a street sign, most of a restaurant, several people, and a hideous centaur abomination looked to have been replaced with glass replicas? What? Shelving that, a quick spin revealed unfamiliar terrain in all directions. Ocean to the east, which could be Ildoa, Ispagna, Dacia, Albion, Asia, Africa, Australia, or the Americas, but certainly couldn't be anywhere within a thousand kilometers of the Eastern Front.

The crack of a gunshot below caught my attention. I was moving before I properly registered the sound, spinning in an unpredictable corkscrew while a pair of decoys broke out in other directions, inlays on my own rifle lighting with magic as I prepared an explosive formula. The gunshot itself was nothing impressive, tinny and quiet, pistol caliber most likely. No threat to an aerial mage unless the shooter was themselves a mage, but no point in taking chances. I noted with displeasure that my men had only just started to move, nearly a quarter second after the shot, which meant they hadn't yet spun up full reflex enhancement a full 3 seconds after our mysterious transposition. Below me, I caught sight of the shooter, fortunately not aiming at me.

A girl in a purple catsuit, of an age with-- a couple years older than me, gunning down a... naked, deformed teenage boy, half covered in bugs? Zombies, Being X? Are you truly so bereft of imagination? She took a second shot as I observed, then a third, though the first would have killed a normal man in half a minute. Next to her stood a tall teenage boy in some ridiculous jester's outfit, and another girl all covered in black and gray and more bugs was jogging in towards the pair from a couple blocks east. I came to a snap decision.

"Maintain overwatch, but do not fire unless fired upon. This is not the Federation, and you are not to open a new front without a damn good reason." I hesitated. "But if you are fired upon, don't hold back. You are not to die while the Fatherland still has need of your services. Lieu-- Major Weiss, with me."

We swept down towards the girl in purple (she had the gun, and so was presumably the most important), rifles slung but mage shells at full power, stopping at a hover a couple feet above the ground.

"Hello? Miss?"

She startled badly, turning quickly and raising her pistol. I felt no building magic, so I remained stoic. The boy, on the other hand, pointed a scepter of some sort at me and did start forming a weak spell, but the girl stopped him before I had to. Interestingly, both wore concealing masks, a custom I couldn't recall ever hearing about.

"Wait! They're real people, not clones or projections."

Well, that certainly raised more questions than it answered. Albish, which could be awkward. I really should have checked the street signs before approaching potential citizens of an enemy nation. Though, I thought the accent sounded more American than Albish proper. A port city on the East Coast of the Unified States? Even I'd recognize New Amsterdam, so... Baltimore? Boston? Probably not the right names in this world. No real reason to speculate when I could just ask, I suppose. Fortunately, I had studied English diligently in my first life -- it's an important business skill, especially for those coveted executive positions -- and I had even taken a course on it at the war college in this life, so no need to dissemble. As for the words themselves: Clones? Projections? Better than zombies, at least.

"Also, they'd kick our asses," she continued while I reflected.

"Yeah, they look it," the boy replied. "You really pull off the child soldier aesthetic. Nice touch on the makeup."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Makeup? Aesthetic?"

"Yeah, uh, Regent, that's not makeup. You've got a bit of dried blood kind of all over the right side of your face. And your costume. And your rifle."

"Ah. Well, I'm fine. It's not my blood."

I ignored Regent's muttered "didn't think it was."

"Hopefully I'll have a chance to clean up soon. As for my 'child soldier aesthetic'," I continued, a little acerbically. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, commander of the Salamander Kampfgruppe of the Imperial military. This is my subordinate Major Matheus Johan Weiss, of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion."

Her eyes had widened at first sight of my face -- because I wasn't wearing a mask? -- and continued to widen through my introduction. In the end, they were comically wide, almost like--

"We were just transported here from our station on the Eastern Front by unknown means. Perhaps you could shed some light on the situation? Or at least tell us our present location?"

She hesitated for long enough I nearly turned to the boy, but finally replied "I'm Tattletale, and this is Regent. And that's Skitter coming in."

Sobriquets, to go with the masks?

"This is Brockton Bay in Massachusetts on Earth Bet... which means nothing to you."

Brockton Bay didn't ring a bell, but I hadn't had much time in this life to spend on geography a continent away. If this is Massachusetts, this city is probably Boston. She was smirking a little now.

"Well, I don't think you'd want it sugarcoated. This isn't your Earth. As for how you got here..." She tapped her chin. "Ah, this guy. Wondered why his power didn't do anything." She gave the deformed corpse a little kick. "He was a clone of a cape named Scrub, whose power let him swap out regions of space for their dimensional alternates. Clones get variations on the original's powers, and this one got the power to pluck capes from alternate dimensions. Probably some nuance to it, but that's the basic rundown."

OK...

"Cape?"

"You know, person with superpowers, like you and me? 'Mages' in your parlance, I guess, though that terminology is going to get you laughed at here. Powers aren't magic."

That almost made sense, weird semantic quibbles aside, but I certainly didn't know of any spells like the ones ascribed to this Scrub. And Tattletale hadn't used any formulae that I could detect, even when shooting the clone. Skitter was doing something, probably related to the swarm of bugs following her around. Oh, and attacking that clone, probably. Nonetheless, I nodded my understanding. I glanced at Weiss to check how he was taking all this. Lips a little thin, but stoic on the whole. Good. Better than I took my first dimension hop, though the circumstances were a little different.

"Sad to say I don't know of any way to get you guys home. Don't think any variant on Scrub's power would do it, and I think we got them all now anyway."

My nascent smile died without me having to suppress it. To my surprise, I felt pretty conflicted about my sudden retirement from military life. Losing out on my pension and saved wages stung, naturally, but my personal safety is paramount. Can't spend a pfennig of it if I'm shot dead defending some shit hole village while our useless nationalist 'allies' failed to even distract-- I blinked a couple times. Ah, that's it: I just regret missing out on the opportunity to kill communists. I'd fulfilled my promise already, but killing communists is its own reward. Not that I hadn't killed... rather a lot of them, recently, but I'd hardly run out. Not when you factored in my functional range as an aerial mage of several hundred kilometers, at least. And it hurts my professional pride to leave a job half done, especially one so noble as the total destruction of... as that. Well, going back wasn't an option at the moment, anyway, so I could examine the pros and cons later. But of course, the Argent Silver couldn't just leave it at that.

"And abandon my duty to the Fatherland in its hour--" A cough from behind and to the right. "decade of greatest need? But I suppose I can leave that discussion to the proper authorities. Do you know..."

It was only then that it occurred to me that I should not have heard a cough from behind and to the right. I glanced back and saw... Weiss. Obviously. Though that was not where he was supposed to be hovering. I barely restrained myself from snapping at him. Not the time.

"Excuse me. Do you know who involuntary dimensional travelers are supposed to report to? A 'Bet' implies an 'Aleph', so I assume there's a process in place. Oh, and there isn't a mask-wearing custom on our Earth. Could you please explain--"

Explosion above me, then another in close succession. Not aimed at me, clearly, so no need for immediate need for evasion. I sent out a couple decoys regardless as I rapidly accelerated towards Granz, mage shell broken by the second attack. Koenig had already primed an explosive spell and fired by the time I saw the attacker: a helicopter. I... really should have noticed the modern cars. Barely been on this world for a minute and I'm already making mistakes. But this one wouldn't doom me. The helicopter exploded without any further fuss, fragments raining down onto the street below. The bulk of the fuselage hit a gas station, which at least didn't immediately go up in flames. But that wasn't the end of the attack: a mage charged straight at Granz's decoy. He was dressed as appears to be custom in this world, in a ridiculous Ancient Greek getup, boots, shield, and spear writhing with white lightning. He stabbed the decoy without hesitation but seemed taken aback when it flickered and faded. Is aerial mage training truly so lacking even in the 21st century? Well, I can't really complain about my enemy courteously waiting for me to kill him. I sent my own decoy charging in while I slipped around behind him, priming both an explosive spell and a mage blade. I made my decoy juke his stab (So slow! Surely no one would send an aerial mage incapable of full reflex enhancement into combat?) only for him to manifest an active barrier from his shield. What? It was a strong barrier, I'll admit, certainly better than I could manage when I was just starting out, but mage blades are made to break barriers. If I had just gone in the decoy's place, he'd already be dead. Hope he enjoys his bonus 4 seconds, I guess.

I fire the explosive spell first, timed such that it barely impacts my own mage shell as I rush in behind it and bisect the... mutilated corpse? He... didn't even have a mage shell up, did he? I can't even enjoy this victory. I feel like I just beat up a little kid playing with Dad's boxing gloves. Then again, he, a grown man, showed no hesitation in trying to kill me, to all appearances a little kid. You reap what you sow, I suppose. Well, no further threats were presenting themselves, and it looked like Tattletale and Skitter were getting into a heated argument. Better square things away here before my convenient information source gets too distracted. Regent was looking up at me and clapping, so there was that.

"Good job, everyone. Granz, status?"

"I'm fine, ma'am. Shell back up in 3. Careful of the rocket artillery, though. They're guided somehow, and have proximity fuses; I'd be dead if they'd had a third."

"Noted. No attempt at communication before engagement?"

"No ma'am. I attempted to hail the aircraft as soon as I saw it, and they responded with artillery."

"Very well. You're free to destroy any artillery platforms, anti-air guns, aircraft, or aerial mages you spot. As for the shells, you ought to be able to take them out with optical formulae if you see them coming. And you will see them coming, now that you're aware of the threat. I will not accept any excuses on the matter. Same rules of engagement for other ground targets, for now. I'm going to try to get more intel out of the locals. Weiss, stay here to provide support in case of further attacks. Oh, and fill the others in on what we've already gotten out of Tattletale."

"Ma'am, what if you're attacked on the ground? Shouldn't someone be in place to provide direct support?" Granz chipped in.

I hesitated. It was the right tactical call. It was the call I'd made in the first place. But... No buts. I can't let... recent events throw me off my game.

"Very well. How's your Albish, Granz?"

"Not good, Ma'am."

"Well, it looks like we're stuck here, so you'll need some practice. Come on down."

If I was taking anyone, it would be Granz. If there'd been a third... Well, there wasn't. I briefed him on the situation as Tattletale had explained it as we came down. I caught the tail end of Tattletale's argument before they noticed us.

"... but they're also soldiers, Skitter! Of course they shoot back! It's on the PRT for not checking first!"

I coughed to gain their attention. "You know why we were attacked without warning?"

Skitter glared and the bugs around her buzzed ominously. Not that they could anything at all to a properly trained aerial mage, but it was still a little creepy. She didn't deign to respond.

Tattletale did: "They assumed you were projections, almost certainly. One of the Genesis clones can make several weak Alexandria packages, though they don't look quite human and the uniforms and guns would be new." She took a long breath. "Not that that matters anymore since you killed Dauntless and wrecked a helicopter containing 3 PRT agents."

I tried to restrain myself. I really did. Skitter looked angry enough as is, and she constituted a full third of people I met on this world who hadn't attacked on sight. I blame stress and sleep deprivation.

"Dauntless?" I snorted. "Dauntless is the name of a battlecruiser, not a mage so incompetent he'd compare unfavorably to a Free Francois colonial conscript."

Well, it got a laugh out of Regent at least, though I'm getting the impression that's not too hard. Skitter had a hand on her knife and the bugs were getting distractingly loud. Tattletale just looked put upon. I tried to pivot back to a productive line of conversation.

"But I suppose it's not my place to question your customs, at least until I fully understand them. Who was Dauntless? Who are the PRT? And what sort of follow-up should I expect?"

This time Skitter did respond. "Dauntless was a hero. He protected this city for years. He survived Leviathan and Echidna and he would only have gotten stronger if you hadn't killed him for no reason! And then you come down here to mock him for it!"

By the end, she was nearly shouting. The bugs 'speaking' in time was a nice touch. Nonetheless, I shot her an unimpressed look.

"No reason? He tried to kill Granz. He might even have succeeded if not for the decoy. Oh, and he tried to kill me too, but there was never any chance of that. You can't go into battle and expect your enemies to spare you when you won't grant them the same privilege." I paused, then forced myself to continue. "I... apologize for the mockery. I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I was unaware of his service to the city."

Her response was less appeased and more deflated, but close enough.

Tattletale jumped back in: "Well, what's done is done. What's important going forward is that you've permanently burned your bridges with the heroes. Lucky you met us, right?"

I turned my unimpressed look on her.

"You still haven't answered my other questions. And 'heroes'?"

A suspicion was sneaking up on me.

"The local cape scene is divided into heroes, basically cape police, and villains, those of us who don't get along with the heroes for one reason or another. Oh, and Parian, who's neutral. The PRT is the heroes' unpowered support. As for follow-up, the local Protectorate, the government hero team, is out of fliers, and it'll take a while for them to get in touch with New Wave, the local independent team. Getting anywhere fast via ground transport in this city is a dicey proposition right now. They've got one more helicopter, but they're not going to send it out alone after what you did to the last one, and they're not going to pack a bunch of vulnerable capes onto it for you to take out all at once either. So long as you find somewhere to hunker down within the next hour or so, you're good short term."

...Suspicion confirmed. I live in a comic book world. I can't leave. This is my life now. Being X, I thought you were going to torment me with trials, not cliches! Oh, and three minutes in and I've already killed Superman, permanently estranging myself from law-abiding society. I glanced at Dauntless's top half, which had landed in a bush nearby, ridiculous crested Greek helmet still poking up proudly. Well, not Superman. Maybe Spiderman? No one too important. But fuck, why didn't I at least try to capture him alive? Sure, he could have detonated his orb, but that's hardly a serious threat if you know to watch for the signs. And this is a modern world, presumably built on the principles of reason and prosperity through free exchange like that of my first life. There's no reason to assume my enemies here would be possessed of the same insane fanaticism with which I've become so familiar. Not killing an enemy just... didn't occur to me. I suppose even a rational, peace-loving person like myself can develop some bad habits after half a decade of war. Just another step in Being X's plot, in the end. Well, as Tattletale said, what's done is done, and as much as I wish I could just stop taking this absurd situation seriously, the danger was real enough.

"And the reason you 'don't get along with' law enforcement is crime, presumably?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe. Never killed a hero, though."

Well, fair enough. If I couldn't integrate into law-abiding society, criminal society will have to do. I'm not happy about it, but I've borne greater insults to my dignity and principles for the sake of security.

"Anti-air assets? Magic detectors? Missile platforms? And couldn't they just bring in reinforcements from outside the city?"

She narrowed her eyes at me for some reason.

"No anti-air the way you're thinking, though maybe Kid Win could put something together. Nothing too impressive, and it'll be nonlethal. I don't know what a magic detector is, but I'm certain they don't have any. As for reinforcements, they just don't do that too often. I have a few ideas about that, but they'd take a while to get into. For now, just assume they're stuck with local capes and maybe 3 or 4 permanent transfers to replace their losses unless you really piss them off. I think the only platform they have for those small air to air missiles is the other helicopter, which can only carry two, which isn't enough, apparently. They had some cruise missiles at the rig, not sure whether they survived Leviathan. They can call in a strike from another city if it comes to it, though, and they will if you make too much of nuisance of yourselves."

I hid my wince, but Tattletale's eyes still narrowed further. I almost asked about helicopters and cruise missiles, since Tanya had never encountered those concepts, but I sensed that would be a mistake. Instead, I went on the offense.

"You claim to be a mage, but I've yet to sense you cast a single spell through two fights. What can you do, exactly?"

That was met with a wide smirk for a second, as though to let me know she knew what I was doing.

"'Parahuman' or 'cape,' never 'mage.' No one casts spells, because magic doesn't exist."

"Oh, sorry." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. "What can you do with your superpowers, then, because that's so much less ridiculous than magic?"

Another snort from Regent, another piercing look from Tattletale.

"Enhanced intuition. You know, like superpowered Nancy Drew."

"Who?" I asked, a beat late.