A\N: Been over a year, huh? Have a recap:

Tensions rise in Africa as fueled by greed, Germanian companies start crossing borders into colonial Spain. An economic depression is sweeping the world. Schugel's mad genius has found refuge in Ildoa.

In the meantime, Tanya needs to make some cash as training a mercenary aerial mage battalion gets expensive real fast. To this end, she met with the multimillionaire Kelust Gulbenk in the last chapter, who unknown to Tanya is on a mission to destabilize the Turkmen Empire, Tanya's current employer.

P.S.- There is an adult-rated version of this chapter, available on this story's threads on Questionable Question and Archive of Our Own. Its... significantly longer The version you have here has been approved by the mods.

Disclaimer: I do not own Youjo Senki.

Chapter 36

May 24, 1932, Salisbury, Albish Rhodesia, Africa

The clock ticked too loud. Or maybe Mary felt that way because of how much she was focusing on the sound. Focusing on the clock made it easier to bear up under Captain Strong's glare of displeasure.

The only saving grace, if you could call it that, was that Elya was in just as much trouble as her. And Elya was quick to point out that, given their long-running animosity, if both she and Mary had agreed on a course of action, surely it couldn't have been wrong?

Captain Strong did not seem impressed with that particular line of reasoning. At least Detective Paquet seemed amused.

Finally, the Captain deigned to speak. "I agree that you did what you had to do to protect yourselves. I even agree that it was morally right for you to help those poor people. But you are not free agents. You are officers of Interpol. Moral action isn't the same thing as correct action. Not only did those recordings of you gunning down those tribals call our entire mission into question, it's even got people questioning the place of women officers in the military and law enforcement! Even if they are mages! I hope you two are happy."

Mary made sure her voice was steady. "With all due respect sir, there's 300 innocents who are no longer enslaved at gunpoint. No matter what comes after, my conscience is clear."

"Well, I hope that comforts you on your way out. You're leaving Africa. Both of you."

Mary's throat seemed to close on her windpipe. She knew this was a possibility. She knew she'd been risking being dismissed, but at the same time, she couldn't turn her back on those desperate villagers. Forgive me Papa, I won't be able to avenge you.

Elya gave voice to her fears. "We're off the Degurechaff case?"

"Technically, no. Not yet," Strong huffed. "But I am getting you two off the continent. We need to let things cool a bit. Instead, there's a different case that I want you two to focus on for now. Paquet will fill you in, he'll be accompanying you."

Mary turned to look at the flamboyantly mustached little Frank. Paquet inclined his bald head, and spoke in that slightly pompous manner of his. "Mademoiselles, you are aware that, after the recent war, both my Republic and Legadonia have been burdened with a large amount of reparations to the Kaiserreich?"

Mary nodded her head. The subject of war reparations was something that had found considerable discussion even on American news outlets. Mostly on how it would affect the banks that had loaned large sums to various European governments.

"Well," continued Paquet, "Recently, the third round of reparations came due, and for the third time in a row, there was a massive shortfall from both debtor nations. The Reich, as you might expect, is not particularly amused. After much shouting, including threats of military action, a compromise has been reached. Interpol is to investigate these nations to make sure they are in fact doing their best to comply, and the shortfall is due to genuine necessity rather than chicanery. The three of us, in particular, are headed for the Francois Republic."

"That's absurd!" blurted out Elya. "How do you even judge something like that? Where does necessity end for a government? Is a rest home looking after wounded veterans a luxury or a vital need?"

Paquet hopped to his feet. "You have put your finger on the point of contention, Mme. Roth. As it happens, our orders are to investigate a select number of areas and industries to try and judge if the Republic is cheating on the payments by inflating costs and diverting funds to non-essential areas, particularly military spending."

"And who decides what exactly these select industries are?" asked Elya.

"Several member nations of Interpol have put forward their own suggestions. I leave it to your imagination how much those lists have in common," was the dust-dry response. "We are apparently expected to respect all advice from our members, while using our own judgment."

"Joy," Mary said flatly. "So no matter what our results are, someone's going to be unhappy."

"Such is diplomacy, my dear," Paquet replied with an expressive shrug. "But let us look on the bright side. After years of subsisting on the libations of savages, I finally have the opportunity to introduce the two of you to the fine vintages of la belle Republique."

Elya sighed. "A Germanian, a Frank, and a Legadonian all walk into a bar. Sounds like a bad joke. Let's hope we're also not the punchline."

September 24, 1932, Camp Eagle Seven, Ankyra, Turkmen Empire

I smirked as I looked over the reports in my hand. It seemed my little marketing campaign had paid off. Sitting in my hand were half a dozen different offers for the latest batch of Silver Lance mages.

Thanks to a genuinely impressive effort put forth by the Turkmen women, I had 15 of them getting ready to don the Silver Lance emblem, as official members of my company. There were another 40 mages currently in training (32 women, 8 men) but they wouldn't be ready for at least another 6 months. Some would take a full year to be ready for deployment.

Well, when I say ready, I mean to the barest minimum level that I wouldn't feel embarrassed to call them my trainees. Luckily, since they were all using single core orbs, the training complexity was a lot lower than with something like the Type 97. It had been a long time since my days as a rookie, but these girls should at least be able to keep up with the mage I had been during my very first sortie.

So now I had 15 unemployed mages, and enough contracts to employ three times that number. What a delightful problem to have!

I could, if I wanted to, simply add all of them to the existing contract with the Turkmen Empire. Mustafa Pasha had come through for us, and he had expanded the existing contract to make room for another two full companies, 24 mages. However, not only was I leery about putting all my eggs in one basket, the Pasha had also privately communicated to me that this was the last expansion of the contract he'd be able to arrange for quite some time.

Mustafa Pasha hadn't elaborated on his difficulties, but I was also in regular contact with several other important figures, including the oil tycoon Kelust Gulbenk. That worthy had dropped me a line warning me that the xenophobes in the Turkmen court were stiffening their opposition to the presence of the 'foreign she-devil'. Given the circumstances, I was honestly impressed the Pasha had managed to expand the contract at all. It felt good to have friends in high places. Still, the trouble with the Turkmen meant it was probably best I spread around my mages.

So, I would hold back nine of the mages to add to the Turkmen contract. Included in those nine would be Sabiha, the Pasha's adopted daughter. I would be promoting her to platoon leader and putting her in charge of an all-rookie platoon. The girl was good enough that I could justify it on paper, being easily one of the best among the new recruits. And if I could pander to the Pasha's paternal pride by having her show up in Istanbul to report to him in person, in charge of her own platoon, then maybe he'd ignore my sending the rest of the new mages to other customers.

For the remaining six rookies, I planned to split them between two platoons, and put one of my female veterans in charge for each group.

One platoon I would place under Staelle, the girl Shaman Abara of the Congo had placed in my care so many years back. Having come in already knowing some basics of magic, she was now good enough that I would have welcomed her into the 203rd with open arms. The beneficiary of her talents would be none other than Mr. Gulbenk himself. The gentleman was planning a trip into Persia, undoubtedly to negotiate a deal with the Shah for more zeroes than was mentionable in polite company, and I was more than happy to oblige his request for some elite protection. After all, some of the offers I'd received were undoubtedly due to him singing my praises, so I really had no choice but to see to his needs. Quid pro quo, truly one of the foundations of civilization.

The final three I would place under Emilie. While I was still a bit nervous after Emilie's little adventure with the Ashanti 'king', the only other female veteran I had on hand was Visha, and I had no desire to lose her for months on end. I could have placed one of the men from the 203rd in charge, and I would inevitably have to once the later batches graduated, but for now I was willing to postpone the gender problem. Emilie would be taking up an offer from the Anglo-Persian Oil Company, guarding their representative to the ever-fractious Trucal States.

That was the last bit of business I had to take care of regarding Silver Lance. Now I had to look over some of my civilian businesses. Most of it was routine paperwork showing how well (or poorly) my companies were doing. It was honestly frustrating, while the American markets did take a bad hit a few years back, they should have eventually recovered. Unfortunately, right around that time the Kaiser decided to get into a pissing match with the US government leading to mutual trade embargos, with the rest of the world getting caught in the crossfire. Still, I couldn't complain too much. None of my companies were actually making losses, which certainly put me ahead of the game.

There were only two points of concern. The first was Lena reporting that she may have to quit Velvet Iron and leave the USA. Apparently the FBI and Interpol are finally comparing notes and beginning to suspect her of being a person of interest in Londinium's Solly Street shootout. The second was from my Waldish bank. I'd told them to manage my portfolio of stocks, but it was quickly becoming clear that managing them was going to require more specialized attention than my bank was willing to provide. I could just liquidate them and save myself the headache, but so many of the stocks were predicted to grow, doing so would be akin to dumping cash in the river.

Really, if I could, I'd park myself in Waldstatten and happily devote myself to managing my portfolio while eating bonbons, but in the current situation – my thoughts cut off as the door to the attached bedroom opened forcefully, and Visha walked out.

She was not in uniform. She did have a plain shirt thrown on, but that shirt was unbuttoned revealing the lacy two-piece underneath. She moved around the table to stand over my shoulder, and her lips came down to hover next to my ear, "Tanya, I need to give you your birthday present. Do not keep me waiting."

I could feel my heart stutter as my brain tried to process what Visha had just said. I drew breath to complain about her terrible choice of words, but all that did was fill my nose with the scent of her hair and skin and that enticing perfume she had put on… I was still frozen as her hands divested the paperwork from mine, stacking it neatly on the table. Then those elegant fingers were tugging me up by the collar, and I found myself dazedly following her to the bedroom.

It was only as the door closed that my brain rebooted and I remembered that Visha had promised me a massage to celebrate my 19th birthday. Earlier that day the 203rd had held a small celebration, Visha had even baked a cake, and she had also promised to make time for a proper massage like we used to enjoy.

I couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. Visha really needed to watch her choice of words, for a second there I'd thought… no matter. Even the massage was something to look forward to, it was months since we last had the time.

Now that I was aware, I could see Visha really had gone all out. A lit sandalwood candle on the bedside table, and what looked suspiciously like a bottle of scented oil. Even as I was looking, I was also helping Visha remove my own clothing. Soon I was lying down on the bed, in my much plainer underwear.

Visha straddled my hips, and uncapped the bottle. Soon, the soothing earthy aroma of frankincense joined the sandalwood smell from the candle as her strong fingers started easing the knots from my shoulders.

I melted into the sheets. I had missed this. Visha's hands worked my back, removing what felt like eons of accumulated stress. At the same time, I couldn't help but think of her earlier words… I chuckled. "What's so funny?" Visha asked softly.

After a moment's thought, I decided to elaborate. Someone needed to warn her. "You realize your words in my office, combined with this situation… someone could easily mistake it as an invitation to something more, you know."

I had expected some stuttering or protests. I had not expected her amused reply: "Why would you think that's a mistake?"

Wait. Stop. Hold on. My eyes flew wide as her words sank in, then I turned my head. Visha's face was close to mine, her deep blue eyes gazing into my own, a curtain of brown hair enclosing us in a world of our own, as I took in the amused fondness in her eyes. Then she leaned down, and slowly, deliberately, with no room for mistakes, pressed her lips to my own.

There were no colors flashing behind my eyes or sparks flying. It was warm, soft. Moist but not unpleasant. Her tongue darted out to touch my lips, and I opened them so we could taste each other. It was enjoyable, but more than that… it was right. Back in Abyssinia, Boris had kissed Svetlana often enough, but there was always an illusion to maintain, an audience to play to. Here, there was just us, and if anything it felt like a missing piece was finally in place.

When the kiss finally broke, I was on my back, looking up at her as she leaned down on me. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "How long were you… thinking of me this way?"

Visha hummed. "I have been dropping hints for a while now. Take a guess."

"Abyssinia? We kissed a lot…" At her expression I kept guessing "Was it at Lake Tanganyika? No, before…" I blinked, "The trade outpost in the Congo?!"

Visha rolled her eyes. "No, I strip and put on dog collars for everyone. By the way, I still have that collar, if you are interested."

I covered my face and groaned. "I thought you were pranking me!"

She giggled. "Oh my god, really? You thought it was a prank? When you suddenly became strict I thought I'd pushed too hard!"

"Well, it was a bit sudden," I defended, blushing.

Visha bent down and kissed me again. "Now that we've gotten that cleared up… do you want to see where this goes?"

The answer was obvious. Romance between boss and subordinate is terrible for discipline, and it goes double in a military command. I didn't need to be distracted by a girlfriend, I had to focus on survival. By every rational metric, this was a bad idea.

"Yes." Truly, I was weak. But the pain of self-loathing was swept away by the radiant smile on Visha's face.

A smile which quickly turned… promising. "Well then," she murmured, "I guess it's time to continue that massage."

Visha did give me that massage. Only this time, neither of us felt the need to observe any bounds of propriety. A quite exhaustive and exhausting exploration, but I am proud to say that neither of us had any cause for complaint. We even made some breakthroughs in magic. That emotional projection spell proved itself a surprising success in the throes of passion. And Visha was rather impressed by my innovations to the lockpick spell.

Some hours later, I was watching Visha as she slept, cute little snores emerging from parted lips. I was tired as well, but my mind was only growing more and more alert as my thoughts spiraled. Over the course of this evening, I had come to a firm realization – I was not going to leave Visha behind. Previously, some of my contingency plans had involved going solo and cutting off all ties from previous acquaintances. Those plans now had to be scrapped. I don't know if something as irrational and ephemeral as 'love' could be used to describe what I'd found with Visha, but I knew I didn't want her to leave my side.

This meant all my contingency plans had to be updated, to account for two people instead of one. No, more than that, as the senior in this relationship, it fell to me to ensure both our safety with the same amount of care that I'd previously seen to my own.

Which meant, among other things, I couldn't risk losing any resources to carelessness. Perhaps it was my newfound resolve, but I suddenly had a solution to both the situation with Lena, and my neglected portfolio. It would take a little while to set up, and Lena and Jenny would be both inconvenienced by it, but it would neatly solve two birds with one stone. Extricating myself carefully from Visha's embrace, I padded into my office to make a quick note, so I could study the idea in the morning.

Lena Brown, CEO of Velvet Iron, was an identity that was coming to the end of its useful life. At the same time, there were a number of potential investment opportunities that needed a watchful eye. All in all, it was high time my bankers in Zuri were finally introduced to a direct representative from the mysterious Jasmine Smith. Let's hope Lena liked the Waldstatten Confederacy. And let's also hope whoever she picks to take over Velvet Iron doesn't make a hash of it.