The War Chronicles of a Little Demon
Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple
Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:
Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.
Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.
fic/
C&C as always is wanted.
Chapter 27: Tempest's Roar
"Confirm, Diamond Actual. We can get you some backup."
I heard the hint of guilt buried under the dispatcher's relief, the latter emotion so clear in her voice that it almost drizzled into my ear over the comm link. But I couldn't blame her for her reaction to the news that somebody, anybody, was in a position to intercept the newly revealed threat.
House Elena had managed to conceal a fair amount of air assets, and with all of our Ritual Plate fully committed to the raid on the Institute, our Fleet units were dangerously exposed. It had been a risk anticipated back during the planning stages, but the raid's success had ultimately been deemed important enough to outweigh that risk entirely. And now, as a number of Elenese Lance-equipped heavy fighters supported by Ritual Plate and a recon bird bore down on the fleet assets stripped of a combat air patrol or dedicated interceptors, we were paying the price for those calculations.
"Visha, Lucia, with me," I ordered, giving First and Third Flights their heading. I debated commanding them to go above the redline, but our suits were already stressed from our last jaunt, and this time the distances were a bit in our favor.
"Ah... more mask-wearing duplicity," Lucia said with what sounded like a begrudging respect. "I suppose it's for the best that I still have four pilots," she wearily noted.
For what it was worth, Adriana had stabilized. It sounded like she still had much of the "meat" of her hand, if not any functionality at the moment. The analgesics her suit had dispensed were within limits and her flying remained sharp, though she was wisely allowing her wingwoman Cardino take the lead.
"We're in the Legions. We'll take good news in whatever form we can," I joked.
"They really want to protect the SilverHold," Visha noted with an audible frown. "Are we getting any backup?"
"I've asked for some Svalinna, but Flight Ops will almost certainly hold them back for a fleet defense role," I admitted. "Perhaps for the first time tonight, the Elenese have finally presented an actual threat to our fleet units."
"I've fought Zoyra before," Lucia said in apparent agreement with my opinion. "It's easy to get focused on the Lances they carry, but I highly encourage keeping in mind that each carries over a dozen Kresnik missiles. Those make for a nasty surprise."
"And with escort by Volos RP and guidance from those missing Yarla recon birds," I grimly concurred, "they might even be able to find and hit the Tarantula Hawk or other fleet elements."
"Wouldn't that be suicide?" Visha inquired as we accelerated and went to an intercept course. "Elena takes risks when the odds of success make it worth it."
"Perhaps." I switched to address the full complement of both Flights, such as it was. "Girls, we've got a big one. You can see on your screens that Elena has finally woken up enough to throw together a pretty lethal strike package."
"Primus Shadow is right. Yes," I continued, well aware that this line of discussion was doing little to boost morale, "it could be a suicide for the Elenese to run the gauntlet of the Fleet flotilla's defenses. If they act with decisiveness and skill, the Volos could stealthily destroy a lot of defenses, clearing a path for the Zoyra to strike. Meanwhile the scrying capabilities of the Yarla would reveal all of our positions to them.
"Collectively, this formation poses an extreme risk to our Ritualista and hundreds of shippies. This will not stand. Our comrades will do their part and fight the ship; it is up to us to take out the Elenese force multipliers and buy the rest of the task force time to rally."
I forced a note of optimism I didn't fully feel, so my miniature briefing would end on something of a high note. I was dubious of its efficacy. The fleet elements, with their small magazines and having put almost all their RP assets into this raid, were exposed, a fact command knew just as well as I did. CSR had taken a gamble, and it might end up costing us all. It would certainly cost these Elenese fliers. The numbers were ruthless in their cold calculation: sacrifice a whole strike package, but take out a corvette or a spy ship like the Tarantula Hawk? That was a trade any commander would happily accept. And turning combat into a set of cold equations was integral to Elenese doctrine.
"But it's not just our ship-bound comrades who are at risk," I continued. "The enemy could be headed for the hoof-sloggers. Once the flotilla is damaged, dispersed, or driven back, there will be little to force back any air-to-ground assaults the Elenese would be inclined to attempt. Unchecked… Well, I'm sure we all know what precise Lance Fire, guided by dedicated recon support, can do."
I had us power up our Veils as we vectored onto an intercept course. The Yarla's presence made our attempts to reduce our emissions a bit moot, but there was no excuse for sloppiness.
"You've had time to look over the threat we're up against," I said over the Flight Leader channel. VioletBlood's absence left me with a strange melancholy. Besides, she was in the safer position, lending fire support to the Sarpedona Squadrons. "Your thoughts, ladies?"
"We take out that Recon Bird and they'll lose most of their stream of updating tactical information," Lucia stated.
"Though, the Zoyra heavy fighters are the main threat to our assets, both to the ground team and the fleet ships," Visha countered.
"Not their Volos escorts?" I inquired, scanning my map as we flew to the northwest. We were still well within the bounds of the Institute's sprawling grounds.
"While the Volos may be a real threat to our squadron, our primary mission is to protect our fleet assets, and the Volos lack the heavy ordinance to truly threaten those," Lucia cooly replied. "Those Zoyra have Lances and a considerable missile complement. Their destruction should be our priority."
"Yes, as a threat to the Fleet you are right," I chuckled. "The Zoyra are the sharpest tail-blade. But one advantage we have is that we know those heavy fighters will keep most of their Lances in reserve for their attack runs on their main targets among the fleet elements. They won't have enough to spare for use against us."
"That's rather... confident, Ma'am," Lucia said, carefully diplomatic in her skepticism.
"Oh, I'm quite sure they can afford to take a couple shots at us," I acknowledged, "but nothing more. Elena didn't deploy their hidden fighters to target a mere half-Squadron. Those Volos suits may be about their most expensive Ritual Plate, but right now they're just running interference on us."
"And you've fought them before," Lucia noted.
"Fight is an exaggeration," I demurred, "Though the encounter did allow me to collect some very insightful data on them with my Gorgon Rig." I felt an unbidden smile tug at my lips as the beginnings of a plan clicked together in my mind. "Data that will be especially useful given that, while they may have to reserve their lances for more valuable prey, we have no such restrictions."
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Taking in some broth to soothe my growling stomach, I rolled my shoulders a bit, feeling some of the tension knotting my muscles subside. It was a relief, though not nearly as much as the news that Lady Primus Felicity IvoryQuiver was willing to support me. With her help, we would have some hope and time to coordinate our forces. There was still the matter of getting Fleet Ops fully on-board with my plan. Fortunately, one of the elements of said plan had already crystallized in my favor, as it turned out that as the Tarantula Hawk had a small Torpedo magazine, the contents of which were an unusually closely-guarded secret.
However, in the extremis of the situation, the magazine's mysteries had been revealed to me. To my great relief, the contents were not some strategic scorched-earth cache or other grandiose loadout of munitions destined to erase the entire Institute should every twig break against us. No, fortunately enough, the Lady Legate's ace in the hole was quite practical.
"Countess," VioletBlood transmitted. "About this mission we're supporting... you need to see this."
I quashed my instinctive irritation at the distraction. VioletBlood was no broodling who needed hand-holding, nor was she a shrinking violet who quailed at getting her claws dirty. Besides, her Flight had already helped destroy the last of the Elenese armored units. "What's the situation?"
"Let me just show you…" VioletBlood said, her voice fading distractedly away as she entered a command into her comms, and then with a few chirps and clicks, my feed switched to the combined take of the Fourth Squadron's channel.
I immediately focused on the area around Building 37. VioletBlood's Flight Two was in overwatch position, but had begun descending along a steady trajectory, stooping down almost to the same altitude as the rest of Fabia's Fourth Squadron. Wait... no, one of the Sarpedona Flights was moving out of position..
"Oh Darkstar's blood, she's updated the timeline," the baroness swore, clearly not just addressing me but also the rest of her Flight.
"HarrowFang Actual! Your First Flight is dropping in altitude!" Flight Ops cut in on Fourth Squadron's channel.
"Confirm, First is the only one at full strength," Fabia stated tetchily, as if annoyed by the imposition.
The renewed tension between my wings grew as I saw where the vectors were going to lead.
Flight Ops had made the same realization. "But you're-"
"This is JadeJavelin: the Primus is doing what those with the honor name Firmitas do," the Lady Legate cut in. "Attack run is authorized."
"Thank you, my Legate," Fabia replied, her voice tight with concentration. "Flight One inbound. All ground units on entrance South-Two, clear the path."
"Confirm," came Lares's gravelly voice as rotary cannons and grenades went off in the background. "We've got the door held open for you!"
"I guess we're not the only ones bending the rules tonight!" VioletBlood said to me, sharing her gallows humor over a private sub-channel, as she directed her pilots to help with some covering fire. And then the night over Building 37 lit up in a small physics-bending sun as Lavish, exercising her stress at being late to the party, dropped a Lance strike in the middle of a group of Elenese infantry.
As suppressing fire went, it was overkill, but given Fabia's rank lunacy it felt curiously appropriate. We all held our breaths as the four Sarpedona reduced altitude and speed and rocketed right into Building 37.
In Ritual Plate combat, there were a few key rules. They were, in short, "never get into a melee fight" and "never fight on the ground". Both were hammered into the skulls of all recruits bearing allegiance to any House because either scenario negated the Ritual Plate's key advantages of speed and mobility.
On my display, icons started to flare along Building 37's image and the ground team charged inside hot on the heels of Fabia's Flight. The other Ritual Plate around the building dropped to a low, though still sane, altitude and started laying down suppressive fire to keep the Elenese from reinforcing or counter-attacking.
"It's madness... I mean... yeah she's got wards and plenty of Falx-fire to kill infantry but… the Legion has better equipment for this," VioletBlood said, chuckling once and then sobering. "I guess Imperial Heroines are like that. Probably for the best that Reinhild didn't pack your sword."
I ignored her thinly-veiled commentary towards me. She had a point. While a Sarpedona could, in theory, act in ground clearance options, there were far less expensive and risky aspects. A Magnus Engineering team could generate and move wards, and as for mobile offensive power, Auxiliary Scouts like Lares and his men or Legion Grenadiers could do the job with far less cost.
"Desperate times," I remarked. Another risk factor was the alarming capacity of RP to explode when damaged sufficiently, which in the close environs of ground combat and against a dug-in enemy, represented a significant danger to friend and foe alike. Sending in four Sarpedona all but reeked of rank desperation on Lady JadeJavalin's part, as she could easily have blown up the SilverHold in the process of breaching the building.
"Though, I must admit, the Legate's in quite a rush," VioletBlood observed before pausing to give SkySpear an order. Looking at the telemetry, smoke had begun curling out of the roof of Building 37 and the hail had finally started to taper off. Maybe they had managed to shut off that cursed magical artifact at last.
"We are facing two incoming Elenese air assaults. I wouldn't be shocked if the Brass Horns thinks we're running out of time," I pointedly reminded her. First Squadron seemed to be doing well enough, but they would be kept busy for too long to provide any assistance with the force I was throwing two of my depleted Flights at.
VioletBlood hesitated. "Good luck Countess."
"Don't feel guilty," I reassured her. "You're doing the important job of making sure the spooks can get their SilverHold out of here. Once it's loaded aboard the VOTL and off the ground, can start pulling out of this DarkStar-forsaken world."
"Understood, just make sure you and the Islander Girl get back." VioletBlood paused, as if a second thought had struck her. "Oh, and as many of the rest as possible, I suppose."
I sighed. "You're all heart, LoveBlood,"
"I know! Second Flight Out," she laughed before closing the channel.
I looked at my display and saw that the two Svalinna coming in at a closing angle were almost caught up with us. "Maiden Two, it's good to see you," I transmitted.
"Diamond Actual. I am pleased to say that my commander has released myself and my wingwoman to your operational command," Lady Primus IvoryQuiver greeted, just as prim and proper as if we had run into each other at a bacchanalia.
"Excellent. We've got quite the threat and not much in the way of resources to meet it, though Flight Ops has given me more than I feared they would," I said, speaking as I quickly queried her suit and transferred my tactical concepts to her.
"Indeed, normally even four Zorya wouldn't be a true threat, but with our squadrons being committed and our Fleet ships running low. Ah..." the woman trailed off as she digested my proposal. "That's a bold strategy," she said in a very carefully neutral tone.
"The heavy fighters' Lances are their long range-threat, but it's the combination of veiled escort, reconnaissance, and heavy strike that makes the formation a true danger. But you and your wingwoman have unique capabilities that, if used right, our enemy wouldn't expect," I explained.
The Lady chuckled. "I'll admit your idea is bold, and it is nice for once not to have us Svalinna pilots forced into the passive role of missile sponge."
"Well, if things go right, you may have to deflect a few Lance Strikes," I half-warned, half-promised.
Like most things with combat, it would all come down to timing and range.
The Tarantula Hawk's magazine held a total of six Hrodwulf Light Torpedoes, each with 5 Vel sprints, two Georgius Light Torpedoes, each of which was tipped with a single monolithic warhead, and three Hrunting ship-killer Heavy Torpedoes. The Hrunting was a particularly nasty and expensive bit of kit, as it had a one-shot teleport system that allowed it on terminal approach to avoid most of a target's defenses by suddenly appearing right next to the target; literally giving next to no time to intercept the missile.
It was those three ship-killers that CSR was keeping on the down-low. Their presence indicated that Invidia and her associates were concerned that Elena might have their own fleet assets in the area and wanted something on hand just in case of any such rainy day scenarios.
For the moment, I couldn't care less about the ship-killers. It was the Light Torpedoes that had my interest, a bare handful of which Flight Ops had released into my custody with reluctance. They had a limited stock and their fear was if they used them now, they wouldn't have them later on when the Elenese strike was closer. The fault in that logic was that if we could blunt the strike right now, that would be ordnance well spent.
As I took in the tactical plots, I could not shake the feeling that this sudden thrust was part of an Elenese delaying action. If they wanted to hold us in place, this was a good moment to force the issue. We were, after all, dangerously strung out. To the east Quirinus, First Squadron, and the Shippies were engaging two Squadrons of Marzanna air superiority Ritual Plate, supported by a trio of Kupala bombers laden with missiles. And between those forces, the ground team, thanks to Fabia's insanity, had broken Building 37's defenses. In this moment, and with the new threat vectoring into the mobile fleet assets, an orderly retreat would be effectively impossible.
While the air was still a tumult of hail and thunder, the weather gauges showed the storm was easing; between that and a call for a third wave of VTOLs to come to the operation area indicated that the SilverHold might just be in Invidia and JadeJavalin's claws. If the Lady Legate had risked her high-borne hide by setting hooves on this DarkStar-cursed colony, I hoped it was for something critical like shutting down this secretive, but so important, artifact.
And Elena had to know this. They had to know that we were a hair away from accomplishing our objective, but simultaneously incapable of removing our hand from the cookie jar should the need arise. We were caught in a beam sea, and every minor rill could swell into a ship-killing wave in a moment. It was all contributing to my mounting concern that these air attacks were, at least in part, a way to buy time for yet more reinforcements.
I sipped a bit of water and allowed myself a tiny bit of pride at having spotted the probable gambit. It was a nice reprieve from the choking dread closing around my throat.
I switched to the Squadron channel and addressed my diminished forces. "Third Squadron of Epsilon Wing. I hope you've enjoyed your sojourn to Harp's World. You've seen their lovely seas, enjoyed their picturesque weather, and I'm sure we all agree that Elena's reputation as hosts is unrivaled on the Dimensional Spine, but alas, all things must end.
"Despite our Squadron having sent the Catalan Company flotilla on their way to Neptune's Court, the work of a Legion Flier is never done! Before we leave the wonderful Harp's World, both us and First Squadron have to help the Shippies put down the dregs from Air Station Dola Gorod. Just one more strike!" I cheered, rallying my worn and battered pilots.
It was also not a fair comparison, but I let Flights One and Three have their moment. The Catalan Company, for all their aggression and attempts to bring us down with them, had been mercenary forces saddled with old export equipment. Dola Gorod was staffed by Elenese regulars, and they had spent months preparing for just such a raid with a series of contingencies, backups, and bolt-holes.
"Now, your Flight Leaders have explained your parts in the plan, and I have every confidence in you."
Of my forces, only Flight Three was at full strength, and that was only because I had swapped Octavia for Charity. And even then, my use of the term was generous, given Adriana's injury. Not that a Ritual Pilot should technically have much need for her hands in combat. But I had other assets, and not just the two Svalinna. "Everyone, get something to eat and hydrate: this will be your last chance for a while."
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The map projected before me refused to change. That is, the constantly moving estimated disposition of enemy and friendly units did not yield a new tactical situation. Around Building 37 the ground situation was proceeding well enough, and VTOLs were starting to run recovery missions. Though evacuating the salient left when egressing a landing zone was always a dicey proposition. At least I had left VioletBlood's Flight to give Squadrons Two and Four some extra fire support.
First Squadron, with their help from Harmonia Fleet Pilots, had met the enemy force of Elenese air-superiority RP. That fight had quickly grown into a long and drawn out affair, with the enemy missile bombers helping to cover a series of their tactical retreats while the Marzanna tried to flank our forces to get to Building 37.
I was acutely regretting this operation's lack of friendly bombers. A Flight of Hastas, or the faster but early production Manta Rays, could have done much to blunt this enemy strike. The good news was that it looked like Caenis and her Squadron would be able to grind down the enemy, but at the cost of rendering them unable to help my forces.
Though I was not without reinforcements. "Maiden Two? Torpedo Ops?" I inquired, only now patching in the two Fleet Pilots and the Telum Centurion that Flight Ops had provided us. Reassuringly, we had gotten Prefect Centurion Landgrave Camilus again. Presumably, his unit had been roped into CSR via similar machinations to mine. At least I knew the people on this cursed operation were talented.
"We are ready," Lady Primus IvoryQuiver stated.
"Telemetry is good, Notus spirits have a good thaumaturgical link with the munitions. And while I had hoped to meet you and your betrothed under more friendly circumstances, it is a pleasure to work with you, Countess," Camilus smoothly said.
For the moment, we were in a textbook BlackSkyvian formation. Air superiority was in the lead, supplemented by Svalinna and a trio of light torpedoes on a rendezvous course. All these assets were screening and protecting three meager strike-suits.
Which was intentional. With a Yaryla using its advanced scrying suite, it was not like we could hide our force composition as we closed in on the enemy.
"Thoughts?" I asked GreyDawn on a private channel.
"It would be great if we had some real Fleet assets for this mission, and not just a handful of CSR's shiny new toys," my senior pilot stated.
I gave a bitter laugh. "Those shiny new toys were the only ones with enough veiling to be able to sneak around without getting detected."
"The Tarantula Hawk is twice the size of a destroyer so it's obvious that highly-Veiled destroyers exist even if only a handful," GreyDawn sighed. "But we got corvettes instead, enough wishing for fire support we'll never get."
"The eternal Legionnaire's lament," I added before asking. "What about the enemy?"
"They're forming up by putting their Volos ahead. No missile launch yet. I think they'll wait until we're committed," Signifier GreyDawn said.
"Oh? They don't think this is a real strike?"
GreyDawn chucked. "With our threadbare team? If I were in the enemy's Plate, I'd be anticipating harassment rather than a strike. I'd be warning my fliers not to waste too many munitions as we swooped by."
"That was my backup plan," I admitted with an exhale.
"It might work, but First Squadron is indisposed at the moment and by the time they can support us..."
"Those Zorya will be far too close to Building 37."
"Or the Fleet ships."
"Good thing we're not going to annoy the enemy to death." Eyeing the display, I switched back to the previous channel. "All forces, prepare to execute a new course heading in on my mark." The tension pressed on my shoulders as my wings ached from fatigue. If I concentrated, I could hear little pings and rattles of my Plate; Gibbs was going to be quite upset with the wear I had put my suit through tonight.
The moment came. "Mark! Execute! Execute! Execute!"
One second we were in a standard BlackSkyvian formation. One that had good mutual support and would make even a superior force, such as the one we were fighting, approach us with caution.
But in an instant, we threw all that away. The trio of Konoe Light Torpedoes adjusted their heading and with a snap acceleration broke away from our formation. Maiden Two also dashed ahead, proving once again that the Svalinna were fast suits. It was one of the many capabilities they had that were overshadowed by their impressive wards. They were still below their redline, there was no way I would risk those suits over-powering their systems.
When facing an enemy with dedicated scrying assets, concealing the location of one's assets was a fool's game. In light of our own Occultia, the Elenese had prepared the ground ahead of time, secreting forces in case of a raid. They then attacked relatively openly, knowing we would see them but forcing a response. In setting a counter-attack under the gaze of a Yaryla recon bird, I decided to take inspiration from the Elenese playbook.
The two formations split and went after separate targets. The Torpedoes targeted the Yarla. The crew knew what was coming, and dutifully a Flight of Volos moved to intercept and protect the aircraft. It was obvious that we were willing to commit a relatively strong anti-air package to take out their high value target.
Meanwhile, the Svalinna's attack run gave the whole formation pause. Maiden Two, at max thrust, was charging right at the lead pair of Zorya heavy fighters.
My abbreviated Squadron followed in their wake. I was curious how the other two Zoyras and two Flights of Volos would react, especially after what happened to their sisters.
Doubtless receiving telemetry, a Flight of Volos had moved to shoot down the three Konoe Lights rocketing towards the Yarla. Typically, there were two approaches to overcome enemy interceptors. One could spread out the strikes on multiple vectors that would force the enemy to spread their forces out, but that risked being defeated in detail. Or they could concentrate their forces in the hopes of having a stronger attack that could get through.
On my display, I saw the Torpedo Package try to do the latter while also trying to evade interception by twisting around and up, but the Elenese Ritual Plate ascended to keep between them and the Yarla.
From the attention I could spare, it seemed these Volos pilots knew their craft and were not spooked by flying into the teeth of BlackSkyvian ordnance that had slammed into their terminal acceleration. The Flight had split into two pairs in a spread out rectangular formation that maximized the coverage from their own weapons, forming a veritable net to focus their fire and kill the Torpedoes as they passed.
The Volos pilots had positioned themselves well, close enough that the faster Torpedoes could not out-maneuver the RP by simply flying around them, but far enough that a Hrodwulf could not release its payload of Vel Sprints. Thus, they only had to defeat three incoming missiles instead of fifteen.
It was a solid tactical plan.
Then, in an instant, it was all undone.
Contrary to their expectations only two of the three Torpedoes on the tactical plot disappeared, the Hrodwulfs expending their payload of Vel Sprints right in the face of their would-be interceptors, instead of going past them to the Yarla they were protecting. At the same moment, the last Torpedo hooked a high-G turn that sent sympathetic aches through my bones just by looking at its new trajectory.
The enemy Flight Leader proved she had good discipline: as she watched the jaws of the trap close, she quickly ordered her forces to concentrate their efforts on killing the remaining Torpedo, ignoring the hail of anti-air missiles entirely in her single-minded focus. Despite the detour, its course was still on track to Yarla. But now, each pair of Elenese pilots had to deal with five anti-air missiles in their way.
This skill proved why these Pilots had been chosen for Elena's rainy-day reserve. They were quick to adapt and immediately committed to a plan of attack. Between their suit's performance, superior Veiling, and expertise, they could have taken out all the Vels with minimal losses. Alternatively, if the Flight commander was willing to destroy her Flight, she could have taken out that last Torpedo.
Unfortunately for them, despite her earlier responsiveness, she tried to be clever. Now, the leading wingwoman took on the incoming Vels while her second split off to intercept the remaining Konoe Light. Our Telum Centurion and his coterie of Notus spirits were feeling vicious and were able to split their attention, helping guide the Vels for maximum harassment.
In that mad dash, one Volos was marked crippled, and another wiped clear off the plot, but two managed to get close to their target. Not content to merely be helpless prey, the enemy Yarla poured on the throttles, racing away at best speed with wards charged to max, point defense system activated, and an impressive amount of chaff flying off its frame.
The final approach was a supersonic chase unfolding over dozens of miles and ending in mere heartbeats. The only remaining Volos standing in the way vanished from the display along with the last Vels, clearing the way for the final Torpedo. In the last moments, there was no separation, no more clouds of anti-air missiles to confuse with decoy or destroy with evocation projectors. Only a single Konoe, guided with all the predatory instinct of its Noctus spirit, fed telemetry from half a dozen Gorgon Rigs, wreathed in Gregorius protective wards, screaming through the air towards the Yarla.
In a brief spark of hope, the Yarla's point defense system managed to cut through the Torpedo's wards and slice into the casing itself. Had it been carrying the standard five-part warhead, it might have even saved them.
Instead, the almighty thunderclap of the one hundred and twenty pound unitary alchemical explosive overwhelmed the recon bird's wards, sheared off nearly half Yarla's hull in an instant, and sent the remains of the burning fuselage spiraling down to to the ground. A moment later, the distant shockwave finally hit me like a punch to the lungs that echoed through my Wards and armor.
"Splash one Recon Bird," Telum Prefect Camilus stated, pride edging into his voice.
I let the Fleet Officer have his moment: the Yarla's death represented one less threat to his ships. My girls had to focus on the remaining pair of Elenese pilots still in the air. I would have preferred to have that whole Flight wiped out. That two Volos pilots survived having a barrage of anti-air missiles suddenly thrown in their faces was no small thing. That still left two Flights of enemy RP and four heavy fighters.
As the Yarla was shot out of the sky, Maiden Two raced to meet the leading two Zoryas.
Despite not normally being used in an offensive role, Svalinna warding suits had advantages. They were fast, nimble, had the same air-to-air armaments as a Harmonia, and their protective systems were second to none. If not for the monumental expense or the rarity of capable pilots, this might be a more common role.
Unfortunately, the Zoryas' pilots met my expectations with their prudent use of Kresniks. After the first few missiles were destroyed they slowed the rate of fire into steady but spaced out launches. Given the limited uses a Svalinna pilot had on her heavy wards, it was a sensible way to attempt to erode the protections swaddling that rare and invaluable suit.
But it wasn't just a matter of the Zoryas' hammering unchallenged on the Svalinna; rather, those pilots had to strike a balance. Fire too few missiles and the two Svalinna pilots of Maiden Two could use their Ballista projectors and conventional wards to intercept; fire too many, and the heavy fighter's magazine would run dry.
Fortunately, however, another one of my expectations proved true. As I'd predicted from the start, the Zoyra heavy fighters had held their Lance fire. While those long-range evocation weapons, longer ranged than the Lances I was equipped with, could deplete the Svalinna's wards, doing so would run counter to this formation's entire goal.
"Diamond Actual to Shadow Actual, you may commence supporting fire," I transmitted to Visha.
Flight One had been reduced, amounting to Visha, myself, and GreyDawn, but it was still her formation. Delegating to subordinate officers and teaching them leadership was a vital part of command. It was something I had much experience in, particularly with Visha, and that served to reduce my temptation to step on her toes.
"Confirm, Diamond Actual," Visha stated on the Flight channel, all business. "Flight, you are cleared to bypass range warning alpha, but only after you clear your two targets with myself. You've got Gorgon Rigs, Occultia, and Maiden Two helping your scrying output. Failure is not an option."
I repeated the command request to Flight Three. "Hood Actual, we have two Volos Flights coming to us and I would bet my coffee stash that they'll get fire support from the two heavy fighters hanging back."
"I agree, Diamond Actual," Lucia stated. "I have orders for my Flight to move to an intercept formation after Flight One fires."
"Excellent work. Standby for Lance Strike," I said before giving Maiden Two their orders and confirming my targeting with Visha. My systems did flash the out-of-range warning, but allowed me to make the selection as I rolled my shoulders.
After a certain range, Lances started to rapidly lose their cohesion as the spells keeping the pulses corralled into a coherent beam faded. Despite the minor diffusive factor, though, a Ritual Plate was a far less protected target than an enemy capital ship. For that reason, when all the tactical balancing was stripped away, that was why I prioritized the Volos over the Zorya. The heavy fighter's stronger wards might give them enough of an edge to survive what their RP escorts couldn't. It was a gamble, but the Lances would suffice, should they find their targets.
Complicating matters was that after our Torpedo strike, the enemy pilots had been expecting something unusual and had upped their Veils and their evasive maneuvering. It was a wrinkle, but expecting our foes to be brain dead drones rushing into slaughter was a fool's dream.
"Targeting information is in. Ready for Lance Fire on Mark," Visha stated over the common channel for this particular sortie. Comms momentarily went dead as she gauged the distances. "Mark! Fire!" Visha ordered.
For at least the fourth time in these pre-dawn early morning skies, the air rippled with an arcane dawn. Half a dozen eye-searing beams of concentrated ravenous energy snapped out towards six of the eight Volos RP that were escorting the heavy fighters. The cataclysmic impact of capital grade weapons used to swat hornets briefly overwhelmed our scrying arrays, washing out my eyes and ears with light and thunder.
The display cleared as our scrying systems recovered from the brief over flash and various other sources of data fed in.
In the aftermath of the strike, I had to admit, I was honestly impressed with the Elenese pilots. Two suits had been obliterated entirely, having taken the core of the Lance fire dead center. One was a charred, twitching cinder tumbling away towards the north west corner of the Institute's grounds. Two had partially evaded and were still mobile, but their suits were now leaking magical energy, lighting them up like a feast day bonfire.
And one pilot, despite everything, had managed to survive the barrage of arcane artillery utterly unscathed.
I hissed through my teeth. The results were, by most objective measures, perfectly good. The problem was that we had little room to afford merely good. Even with the heavy damage incurred, the enemy still had Flight's worth of pilots that were functional, plus two more with heavy damage but might be able to fire.
As I'd feared, the surviving enemies reorganized and reoriented with irritatingly commendable speed, with the remaining pilots angling right toward my Squadron. The distances closed, and then my alerts screamed as all four of the heavy fighters launched their missiles at us.
"The Countess and her mistress just gave us quite the dazzling fireworks show! Now it's time for the pilots of the Lantian Anchorage to take the stage!" Lucia said over her channel, showing quite the dramatic flair. "Lets not disappoint them, girls!"
At least the Volos were focused on us and not Maiden Two. The two Svalinna closed ranks, with Lady Primus IvoryQuiver and her wingwoman swapping being the leading element as they dove into the leading heavy fighters.
"Secondary targets if you please," Visha ordered as Flight One went to the trailing pair of Zoryas while Flight Three engaged the remaining Volos.
My eyes tracked the vectors on the display. We were cutting our timing a bit finer than I would have liked here. Unlike the earlier carefully measured pot-shots against Maiden Two, the heavy fighters released a saturating cloud of Kresnik missiles at my abbreviated Squadron.
With Maiden Two, the pair concentrated their Ballistas, allowing them to pierce through the lead fighter's wards. The Zoyra's wingtip blew off as it spun, recovering enough to start limping back to regroup with its comrades under the cover of the fighter's undamaged partner. I had hoped for a kill, but the odds sadly hadn't borne out in my favor.
"Maiden Two. Break," I ordered an instant after the two Svalinnas had already changed their heading. The nimble RP had far greater agility than the much larger Zoryas, and with their new course, they were positioned to cross vectors on a nearly perfect intercept of incoming Kresniks.
With their direct guidance from the remaining Volos, many escaped, but the bulk were taken out by Maiden Two's heavy shields.
"Signifier, that damaged fighter displeases me," Visha ordered. It was ruthless, but with an injured wing, it should be an easier target.
"Confirm, Primus Shadow," GreyDawn acknowledged as she fired at the wounded and, for the moment, exposed Zorya. At this extreme range, the fighter's random evasions were almost sufficient to save it, but not quite. The heavy fighter's nose ripped off as it went into a spin. I barely registered the ejection of its two aircrew as the remaining three Zoryas regrouped and Lucia's pilots killed two of the Volos, one a crippled RP from an earlier strike, the other one whose luck had run out.
Elenese air doctrine was calculating. True to our inter-House rivalry, they tried to outdo the BlackSkyvian way of war.
Over Lacus Superum last year, Pukovnik Emilia Armin was able to make the rational call and withdraw her forces. But that was before blood had shed. That was when her Vanguard Strike had been observing a training exercise. Here? We were the invaders, and we had already killed many of these pilots' comrades and sisters. I knew they would not simply slink away. I also suspected what would happen when they turned.
"Power spike!" Lucia screamed an instant before me.
"Zoyra Lances are active! Contingency Red!" I ordered as I flipped my own suit to line up on the remaining two heavy fighters
By the standards of a fixed-wing asset, the Zoyra was a large fighter, and for its size, it was agile, even if it was more built for speed and capacity. Our real advantage was the pilot and her evocation systems operator were fighting with one hand tied behind their backs. They had held back their limited number of Lance shots, saving them for their ultimate mission.
For nearly this entire operation, my Flight had outranged and out maneuvered our opponents. Sniping at them with our Lance batteries before darting in for a kill on wounded prey.
No more.
Now we were locked in a supersonic joust armed with capital grade ordinance. In but a few wingbeats, carnage unfolded.
My suit's eyes dimmed as beams brighter than my own Lances struck across the night sky. The three fighters converged their fire, all aiming to take vengeance upon Flight One, but Lady Primus IvoryQuiver intercepted. Time moved like treacle as her potentia ward projectors flickered and momentarily held against the onslaught before collapsing in a burst of arcane overflash. For a moment, a new sun roared its way into existence in these stormy skies, the rippling air hitting my lungs with the physical impact of IvoryQuiver's final act of defense.
I didn't even have time to breathe, taking the barest sliver of an opening to fire my last Lance aimed at the lead Zoyra that I knew had just killed the Fleet Pilot, but suddenly a Volos flew into its place taking the hit.
Time slid into a strobing series of flashes. Visual systems cut in and out, arcane leakage hashed scrying intake, and the adrenaline flooding into my veins warped my perception of events. IvoryQuiver was dead, and she would not be the last. The Volos that had put herself in front of my beam had been blasted apart, with the twisted wreckage of her suit, body, and the remains of my Lance beam slamming into the lead Zorya's wards.
As Volos pilots tried to carve apart Lucia's formation, one of her fliers, ever so slightly out of position, was tagged by a Kresnik detonating just off her port wing. Her wingwoman flew in to cover her as she tried to wobble back to safety, only for the wingwoman's Polyxo to be quickly obliterated by a Zoyra's strafing Lance fire. A light on my display flicked red, the cold system of the machine factually informing me that someone I had known and trained for months or years was simply gone.
The remaining Svalinna pilot was gamely keeping up her roles of missile interception platform and flying counter-fire battery, but she was among the highest priority of targets. My own heavy munitions expended, I fell back into the role of supporting the rest of my Flight and trying to command this maelstrom.
"Lucia, get the remaining Volos and cover Maiden Two! Maiden Two, keep interception fire but watch if they concentrate Lance Fire! Visha, any fire you have should take out those Zoryas," I forced out. I practically had to shout over the weight of my own acceleration squeezing my lungs. I could feel my body chill as adrenaline spiked. We were already executing Contingency Red, but reaffirming orders was part of my job. At least Caenis and First Squadron had completed their task and were now able to help with the pull-out. Though, I didn't even look at their losses.
"I've still got two shots and GreyDawn has one," Visha stated, her voice clipped and strained from the high-Gs we were all enduring as we raced over the north western reaches of the Institute's grounds.
"Understood. Form up, protective screens," I ordered as I had the remaining Svalinna protecting GreyDawn while I flew close escort to Visha. The cold calculus of war would have had me reverse that order, save for a critical difference. Visha was my wingwoman, and I was already in position to watch her, while GreyDawn was to the southern angle where the Svalinna was already in place to neatly protect her and support Lucia's formation. And there was no time to swap up.
Another two Volos were damaged, but their pilots were moving the pair of lighter air-superiority variants with a deft maneuvering that let them stay in the fight with frustrating tenacity. Another light on my display flashed to orange. I spared a quick glance at the names and saw that Octavia's suit had been hit. A strange mix of guilt and relief swelled in me that she was not the one who had died.
Still being screened by the Volos Flight, the three Zoyra were still out of Ballista range, and conversely, we were still out of the range of their own non-Lance evocation emitters.
Visha and GreyDawn had lined up to fire, and I frowned at the positioning of the three heavy fighters. They were moving into us, but not at the maximum closing rate, as if they were not fully committed to their vengeance strike. Maybe these Elenese Pilots were acting more rationally than I had assumed. Though that would mean...
"Watch for them to break off!" I warned over the comm channel as the three fighters seemingly flushed all of the missiles remaining in their ammunition magazines as a full twenty Kresniks launched. At the reduced range, the missiles immediately shot to hard acceleration and fired out in sprint mode, all aimed at Visha and Greydawn.
Time slowed to a crawl. My heart hammered in my chest. My focus narrowed to my Ballista. It was far from ideal but suitable for a counter-fire role. Missiles blew apart as they flashed closer and closer. Sweat seeped into my eyes. Muscles in my wings ached. Warnings trilled piercingly in my ears. Despite all the irritants clawing at my mind, I followed Visha on her twisting course, stooping to descend and line up a shot at the two tailing Zoyra. We had fought together long enough that I knew her plan was to take out both remaining heavy fighters, one after the other, and that she was going to come at a higher offset angle.
That left the forward one to Signifier GreyDawn. And protected by the Svalinna's wards, my GreyDawn fired her last Lance. It was a clean hit that blew the doomed Zorya apart.
It only came a moment too late.
An instant before GreyDawn's fateful strike, the lead fighter fired its own Lance. Ill-aimed from the corkscrewing maneuvers, the beam was a blind dart throw, but an educated one tossed by a skilled foe with everything on the line. Why target the better protected Strike-Suit? Destructive energy raced across my auto-blinded vision and a wall of noise drowned out the world.
Blood pounded in my ears. I felt like my chest was hit by a tank. Coughing, I saw that the beam's path had grazed past Visha. My breath caught. I wanted to curl into a ball. Something sharp and dreadful stabbed deep into my chest. A graze could simply mean a lingering death instead of instantly being extinguished.
My gaze drifting, I saw small objects falling from Visha's suit. Just before my heart could stop, she suddenly snapped to a new vector and shot into a steep climb. Watching as her ejected and damaged Lance Flasks exploded beneath her, I heard her sweet voice dance along my ears. My head ached as I tried to look out and orient myself, but the eye lenses were cracked. A series of off-tempo notes trilled in my ears, making discordant music. I smelled something like burning metal. The cloying taste of blood filled my mouth.
Despite my speed, there seemed to be something wrong with my suit's navigation system. It said I was in a flat spin, but I could see the two Zorya covered by a trio of battered Volos breaking away from us. I tried to give orders, but my tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
There was a sharp jab in the back of my neck and my vision and hearing cleared. I was hit by a cacophony of suit alarms; the status screen was full of angry warnings of failing suit systems.
"Diamond Actual, what is your status! Tauria, can you recover?" Visha cried, her voice strangely distant.
My mouth felt phlegmy, or maybe bloody, and I spit. Endless training exercises took over as I quickly took in the shattered systems. There was now a sharp whistling, somewhere my faceplate had jarred loose, forming a crack. Freezing water droplets splashed onto my face. I felt lucky to have comms at all. "Negative," I coughed. "Negative. I'm going to have to ditch."
"We can follow you-"
"No," I cut her off as I started to bleed altitude... and other things. "Those two Zoyra must be handled. If they take out the Tarantula Hawk, none of us will return back home."
My head pounded. My wings screamed. A fog of dull agony clouded my thoughts. That seemed like the right call. It was long odds that they could reach the assault carrier, but those Elenese pilots had shown luck in getting past us; sure they had taken horrific casualties to do it, but now they were very motivated.
"Tell Flight Ops..." I trailed off as my tail started to ache. There were more perforations in my suit, and my Zephyr were trying to soothe me.
"We are. We'll have an Occultia watching where you go down. A SAR team is on the way," Visha assured, her voice brittle.
"I'll... I'll land fine; we've all been trained for this," I quietly assured her. The main warning light went from amber to flashing red as a series of gauges for my power system flashed into the danger zone. That was that.
If not for the mad dash to satiate my pilots' bloodlust, I probably would have gotten to the ground in my suit, maybe it would have survived the glancing near-miss of a Lance. Three years of memories and melancholy filled me as I keyed in the ejection system. My Polyxo had protected me since my twelfth birthday. From the skies over Ortov and the jungles of House Crocelli it kept me alive, and now I had to throw it aside as so much scrap.
Verifying my altitude and that the scuttling charges for the critical parts of the communications and scrying systems were set, I closed my eyes, rain freezing on my cheeks, and went to some of the first words my mother Clementia had taught me.
"DarkStar give us the grace to return safely to our homes," I recited, unwittingly over the Squadron channel, and triggered the emergency release.
End Chapter 27
Poor Tauria.
Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Readhead, ScarletFox , afforess, metaldragon868 , Ahuva and Larc for checking and reading over this chapter.
Special Thanks MetalDragon for really polishing the air to air combat, and for blaming me for the association of Abba and air to air combat.
Ch 28's last scene is being written and the chapter is shaping up well.