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.
fic/
Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku
C&C as always is wanted.
Chapter 11: Run Through the Jungle
My twelfth birthday was an aberration. I had been surrounded by friends and family. I had been adopted and given honors and gifts of great value.
I spent my thirteenth birthday wallowing in mud and flying three combat patrol missions back to back to back, fending off waves of Ziox-trained and Trosier-equipped Ritual Plate in between keeping mad partisans from blowing up an ore refinery far behind what could be charitably called our operating base.
In a way, it was a comforting return to form.
Though, in two months of fighting in the wild lands nominally controlled by House Crocelli, I had yet to be wounded anywhere nearly as bad as I had been while helping my Duchess at that opera days before my twelve birthday.
It could be worse; two days later things had calmed down enough to have a bit of cake. Both Visha and VioletBlood had outdone themselves in their field scrounging. Yes, the cake was a shelf-stable thing that was halfway between a pound cake and a dense bread and the icing had been made using hot chocolate. But given that the nearest village was rather... lacking in amenities and that almost all of our supply VTOLs were filled with important things like fuel, parts, munitions, rations, and other critical components it was impressive enough work.
Even the fleet issue coffee I was sipping was one of my ersatz gifts. Which was far better than ersatz coffee.
I did wonder how much the caffeine could actually help as I tried to not slump in my armor. My faceplate was up and the evening air was cool enough that I was not sweating into my inner flight suit. At least not as bad as I had been earlier today. I shook my head. The Forward Operating Base was adequate enough. The approaches were cleared, we had a good set of supplies and a large enough internal perimeter to put the more energetic supply dumps a safe, safe enough to feel good at least, distance off.
We even had two Spatha Flights. Well... two of the VTOLs were down for repairs, but having our own organic airlift was useful. There was also landing space, faculties, and parts to support Umbra Medium VTOLs. And a Gladius or Pugio Heavy VTOL could land if required, which was useful for the delivery of bulk items. Perhaps more useful for the Legionary infantry and Auxilia than the two Squadrons of Ritual Plate also posted at FOB EmeraldInfero.
I did not know if the sobriquet was simply descriptive or named after some poor hoof-slogger who died here and had cosmic bad luck.
The view was impressive, given how thick the plants and trees grew in the interior of House Crocelli's Eastern Interior Confederation. However, I was not enjoying the view our base gave of the outlying valley with its thickly canopied jungle.
There was too much risk of a sniper in the bush taking a potshot at me. Sure, I could strip out of my armor and put on a worn set of infantry armor, at least then I would not stand out as a high-value target, but that would add critical moments to the time it took me to take to the air.
If I wanted to look at pretty trees I could do it from the air, at speed.
Which meant I now had a great view of sandbags around a mortar pit, and beyond that one of the artillery positions. Fixed defensive assets were counter to BlackSkyvian doctrinal preference, but the Arachne guns were self-propelled. There was also the smell of latrines and spent fuel cells. While House BlackSky was more fastidious than the Empire in such things, when in the field you had to make due.
A shadow came over me and I smelled something a bit like a wet dog, a very large wet dog. Which was an improvement in the local bouquet. In all honesty, I was not at my best given the flight hours I had been pulling.
"Mind if I sit?" the shadow asked in a deep, but very respectful, rumble. If the size was not an obvious clue as to the speaker's identity, the male voice was.
I looked up at the Scout Auxilia. He was nearly twice my height and had to be at least six times my weight. And it had to be all muscle, or hair.
"Of course," I scooted over on the bench that was made out of castoff crates. "Lares?" I asked without even glancing at the plate carrier he wore.
"That's right," the large Forest Person sat down. The bench creaked. It was too tall for me which made my armored boots barely touch the ground. Meanwhile Lares' knees were practically at his elbows.
"I'm sorry about your squadmate," I stated. At least no one in my squadron died on my birthday.
Lares' face was craggy and had a strong brow but his blue eyes held a deep sorrow. "Hosta was an ass. Still didn't deserve it." He opened up a ration box and started eating. Forest People were Auxilia because their size required specialized kit and they lacked wings.
Sure, they could eat the same food as us and even fire the same weapons. Lares for example carried a squad support weapon as a personal rifle, with only a slight ergonomic adjustment for his larger hands and greater length of pull. Other Forest People lugged around a Minerva Rotary canon.
The tri-barrel weapon was normally mounted on vehicles, from the humble Mule to the Lavin battle tank to VTOLs of all sizes. Even for a Forest Person it was an awkward and heavy weapon that consumed ammunition, heavy ammunition at that, at a prodigious rate.
Still, it was a massive firepower advantage especially for a foot-patrol. Regardless of their weapon, their armor had to be custom and they took up extra VTOL capacity.
But when it came to woodland scouts, few could beat a Forest Person.
Until the enemy commanders decided to start shelling their own positions the second their own recon patrols made contact with "invisible forest wraiths".
I sipped my coffee with companionable silence. There was a reason Lares was having his snack in the same interior cameo-netted spot I had found.
His rations were the same as standard legionary issue, he just got a triple serving. And I could not begrudge him the relish that he was enjoying his meal. The packaged meals were rather good, especially if one had time to heat them.
"You don't have a Vanis accent," I noted. Vanis was the southern portion of House BlackSky that stuck out from the rest of the continent of Diyu.
Lares scoffed. "Nope. Eastern Province lad."
I turned and looked up at the giant yeti-like man next to me. "Really? You guys were here before my squad got sent down." Eastern Province had some Forest People, but they were not the most common woodland resident in that part of Diyu. His folk tended to live further to the west.
He snorted. "House sends us to wherever needed, Primus. If I wanted to stay home, I'd have gone into the Forestry and Mines Service."
"Instead you're out here trudging through the forest to protect a mine."
He grunted. "Great Maker has a sense of humor."
I snorted at that. "You don't know the half of it."
"You an Eastern girl too?" Lares asked.
Again I looked up and gave a wry smile. "Don't play big dumb Auxi with me."
He looked sheepish. "Yeah, no hiding the Noble Flight."
I finished my coffee and switched to a canteen. Water was vital, and it was easy to get dehydrated when it started to cool off.
"This isn't about my Flight's air support performance?"
Lares shook his big shaggy head. "Naw, you're real good." He glanced around to make sure no one from the other squadron was within earshot. "With your squadron rotated in, we're much more comfortable with close support. Especially through trees and other cover."
"We try our best," I said with mock humility as my tail twitched. This was all my fault. My plan to get the 5th Squadron all Polyxo had succeeded. My Duchess only had to pay for Visha's suit. Technically, I had paid for it, out of assets from my holdings, but since I was both a minor and on active service, a seneschal was administering County Larium, my land, guild, and industrial assets.
Alexi Frugi seemed a competent enough sort, if mousy, and came recommended by my eldest sister, ArgentShroud. She was actually part of ArgentShroud's staff in her role as our mother's Lady Castellan. What it came down to was that Visha's Polyxo was purchased with my mother's approval to spend assets held in trust for me, to be paid off using the income my portfolio generated every quarter. The accountant in me got twitchy over a calendar that had thirteen months
It was a bit sobering just how expensive Ritual Plate could be. A mid-level, if provincial, noble's holdings could swing it but only just. Though that made sense as my Duchess had her own Ritual Plat squadron of guild mercenary Pilots, not to mention her collection of personal and training suits.
It also said things about the size and value of the Barony of Lilla, VioletBlood's holding, given that she was able to convince her own seneschal to approve an outlay. Though for a young and skilled Pilot from a noble family that had grown... thin on the ground a top-line Ritual Plate was a very sensible investment.
"You do," he agreed, now switching over to his own canteen. Which was more like a full-on water can rigged with straps.
I nodded. I had gotten Quirinus the best equipment I could. Top-line or at least near that. Not everyone had the Mark 15 Gamma Block version of Polyxo, but they were all at least Mark 13 or later. My own Flight had gotten two more Gorgon Rigs, so all four of us were equipped. I had also helped Quirinus adapt a training regimen to get everyone in the squadron to use the extra capabilities, both those who had already been flying the advanced multi-role suit and those who had been using the Polydora.
The giant scout gave a sympathetic look and he tossed me a foil packet. I grabbed it and looked up. The Forest Person gave a shrug. I opened it up and took out one of the red sugar crystals and cracked it between my teeth. The jolt of military-grade life energy flickered through me.
"Not like I need that stuff,"
"Thanks," I nodded. There was no reason to make special field rations for Auxilia who did not have our... special dietary needs. But that did mean their kit had some extras they could trade. "Let me know if you need anything."
"I'll think of somethin'," Lares was amiable enough, and barter was a key economy in the field.
He sighed. "I was the best tracker in my family. I could follow any game and watch them and not spook anything: deer, drake, bear. Started teaching others, and well... got bored with the forests and decided to 'see the world'."
I snorted sympathetically. "And, for the sin of exceptional competence, you get sent to the wonderful Eastern Interior Confederation."
It was a dynamic I was more than familiar with. The Empire had it, but House BlackSky was in some ways worse. Imperial Legion doctrine emphasized strategic mobility. Almost all Legions were air-mobile capable, which meant they could be loaded onto troopships and other airship transports to be delivered anywhere.
This meant that weight was a massive concern. Which put focus on increasing individual capability. A professional Legionary with more training and experience weighed the same as one with less skill, let alone a levy or conscript. And the Polyxo Advanced Multi-role was a prime example of the tradeoff between expense and capability.
"It's not so bad. at least there's forests here," Lares said with mock gravity.
I actually laughed. We had all heard rumors of Forest People assigned to treeless steppes or Naiad handlers stationed in deserts.
"Yeah, and plenty of work for us as well," I added with the same joviality. I would have preferred a quiet posting but this was building up experience, which would make me a more credible trainer and instructor.
"When do you go out on patrol next?"
He shrugged. "They say sometime tonight, or tomorrow. Depends when the other patrols get back, or not."
I nodded. FOB EmeraldInferno supported multiple long-range patrols. Most of them consisted of a Contubernium of Forward Recon Legionaries and two Scout Auxilia. The Legionaries mostly provided extra fire support, supplies, and a bit more mobility.
That was not to say that Forward Recon were blundering oxen. They were light on their feet and skilled in woodcraft and veiling. However, they were still demons. Other than flight, one of the Forest People, the Woods Folk, the Downland Yeti, had all the physical advantages in a woodland environment. They were stronger, faster, had more stamina, left less of a trail, and were, despite their size, much stealthier.
"Your team working well? They're not stepping on too many branches?"
"The ones with hooves are nimble enough, the ones wearing boots... eh," he shrugged, then smiled. "Least I don't have to worry about any of them dropping feathers."
I snorted. That my species was so... varied in morphology was a source of amusement to the Forest People.
It should be readily obvious why Lares' people were largely left to their own devices in House BlackSky's lands. The Imperatrix had no desire to waste Legionary lives trying to fight a guerrilla war against the Forest People. It was easier to bring them in as productive citizens.
Even they needed supplies from cities and settlements after all, and they were superb foresters and cultivators. And that was before their martial skill was counted. The one downside, if one could call it that, was that this meant their traditional land claims were given legal weight. Which made land-use litigation a bit complicated.
"Where in Eastern Province do you hail from?" I asked, with just a hint trepidation.
"Up north by the border."
"Duchy of Argenia?" It was a fair bet, my Duchess was the largest landholder in Eastern Province. Though Imperial lease-holds, which were technically property of the Imperatrix, were also very common.
He gave a nod.
I gave a little sigh. "Please tell me it's not the County of Larium."
The big scout smirked. "Didn't think I'd run into my Landlady out here."
I leaned my head back and polished off the first canteen. Great. He was one of my tenants. Not that Forest People paid rent on their traditional lands, that was part of the concessions they got. Now, if he wanted to do mineral extraction that would involve the County getting a cut. Lumber rights were a whole other mess.
"You're not filing a grievance, are you?"
Lares laughed. "If I had a mine to open do you think I'd be out here guarding this one?"
That was fair. I would have to check what VioletBlood's barony had, but I was pretty sure that even in my mother's duchy the mines did not produce anything quite so useful as the complex to our north.
And that was not even our main source of Samarium, Neodymium, Erbium, and other related minerals. But the Emma Mine Complex was a convenient spot with veins of them all in relative proximity. With the nearby Oraje Refinery, DOS Mijnen was able to supply plenty to the BlackSkyvian and Alecton war machines, with a proper amount going to civil arcane industries.
He gave a contemplative look over the mortar pits and artillery positions. "Small world, eh?"
"Yeah, it kinda is." Visha had been born years before me, in another House, moved to Amber Island, joined the Imperial Legions and then read about me in the broadsheets. I suppose that was one upside to all that embarrassing propaganda, it enabled her to find me in a House of over seventy-two million people.
That meant that Uriel did not have to resort to... creative means to bring us together.
"When we get back, I do wonder..." I looked at my empty canteen thoughtfully. "There any truffles or lobster mushrooms, things like that, in Larium County?"
Lares blinked at me. "You... want to forage for mushrooms?"
"No idea, but some types are really valuable foodstuffs. There's medicinal and recreational too. Depending on the ecology, there might be good assets there. And it'd be nice to have a local who I can trust."
His eyes widened and he looked at me as if I had eaten a mushroom with Psilocybin. "You're a Countess, an Ace Pilot, there's an opera about you, and you want my help?"
"I won't be in the legions forever." I frowned and realized why he was upset: I was being presumptive. "I'm not saying you have to work for me, the offer is there of course. DarkStar's blood, I'd be happy with just some introductions to people you know who are good at that kind of work."
He gave a slow blink.
Right, he had every reason to doubt me. "I am sorry for being such a lousy Landlady. I've been well... a Pilot ever since I got that county. But I assure you I do want to ensure everyone in Larium County makes the most of our bounty."
"With mushrooms?"
"And other assets. But mushrooms, and maybe other game, seems like a safe thing for a Countess to dabble in after she's retired from the Legions."
Shaking his head, Lares took a swig of water. "Sure, why not. I can think of worse jobs. It's something to look forward to, provided we both live out our terms."
"There is that," I sighed.
The big hairy scout adjusted his armor. "I think there's some good Fall Truffles in the uplands of the county. Expensive but not too much. And there's rumors of some Montbard truffles. That's the real money, but pretty guarded. Course you may want to have... who is it that manages things back home while you're out in this lovely place?"
"I have a seneschal and my mother and sister help."
He nodded. "Right, well if you're serious about foraging then you'll want to survey what you have and make deals with the locals, not just my people but the demons and the drow village of Autun. Maybe set up a little guild. There's varieties in the forests, and there's also farming mushrooms. Not all types are good with farming but it's steady production."
I smirked. He seemed to have a good interest, and it would expand my portfolio from just timber, minerals, and manufacturing. "Excellent ideas." I leaned back and looked up at the sky through the netting.
"It's a nice dream, "Lares wistfully said. No doubt he was thinking of home.
We sat in companionable silence for a bit.
And then VioletBlood stomped in. She was in her flight armor but had her helmet off. It bounced from an attachment around her waist. The Baroness' scarlet curls hung limply around her and she looked as worn and ill-tempered as the rest of us. Still, there was an edge of excitement to her.
"Yes?" I asked immediately, pulling myself up to full attention. "What's the status of the rest of the Flight?"
"Visha and GreyDawn just had their maintenance completed and are fueled and armed," VioletBlood eagerly said.
"Good. What else?" Our Ritualista were doing impressive work in keeping our readiness rates high in such a hot, humid, and remote location.
"Quirinus got orders, we're going to be running a strike mission tonight," VioletBlood's tail swished. No wonder the little noble war maniac was so excited.
"Which Flights will be setup with the Lances?" I asked. The Lance batteries that enabled the strike package were powerful weapons but did not have many shots. Often escort would be provided by one or two of the Squadron's flights. Though a Strike-configured RP could fight by itself, so maybe all three Flights would be setup to maximize offensive power. Or maybe the other Squadron at the FOB would be escorting us.
"Current plan is for two Flights in Strike mode and one in Air Superiority running scouting and escort," VioletBlood proudly said.
I eyed her. There was one Flight in our Squadron where everyone was equipped with Gorgon Rigs. Thanks to me. "That would be us?"
"That would be us!"
Lares snorted.
I glared at VioletBlood. "And are you keeping hydrated, Baroness?" I archly asked.
"I am," she nearly whined. "I drank over the worst of the day."
"You should keep drinking, especially in this humidity."
VioletBlood concealed a frustrated little huff.
"If you wanted an easier posting; you should have gone into the Fleet. Think about it; billeted on an airship, with honey cakes and a nice soft bunk," I said with a vicious smile, utterly ignoring my own military career goals.
The baroness muttered something about the Household Fleet.
I shook my head. "What is the target?" That it was scheduled for later tonight implied it was something fixed in position or that command planned to hit as part of a larger offensive package.
VioletBlood glanced about and her tail flicked as she took in the large Scout Auxilia. Even sitting, Lares was taller than she was standing.
"Don't worry about him," I sighed. "While I appreciate your dedication to Operational Security, you can speak in oblique, vague terms."
"Um..." VioletBlood pondered for a moment. "Other reconnaissance assets say they have determined when a supply of... materiel will be delivered to the... to certain separatist elements within Eastern Interior Confederation."
"More Trosic surplus being sent to Diluvian separatists?" Lares scoffed.
Tail flicking, VioletBlood gave me a hurt look as if that was my fault.
I gave her a reassuring nod. "Well, that's something." By Minor House standards, House Crocelli was reasonably well put-together. They had a functional economy, a semblance of civil society, and a military that was more than a source of nepotism and graft.
Being adjacent to a major concession of House Alecto was a factor, giving them plenty of Alecton help, "help", a variety of military and industrial services at... favorable prices, and a ready port to facilitate imports and exports.
However, that was, by and large, coastal House Crocelli. By area, the Minor House was larger than some Great Houses. However, once you got into the interior of the landmass, Crocelli was a collection of petty squabbling fiefdoms. They were nominally administered as Interior Confederations.
"Might not even be the Diluvians," I murmured. Using catspaws, doing back deals, and exploiting generational grudges was a long tradition in this part of the world. Honestly, it was one everywhere. It was just a bit less... civilized in the wilds of Crocelli.
"Would be nice if they stuck to form and just fought the other local broods for who could provide 'security' for the confederation," Lares noted.
"That's bribery," VioletBlood bristled. "House BlackSky would never stoop to paying tribute to house-less barbarians!"
Lares blinked at her before giving me a measured look.
"Why yes, Baroness," I stated. "We don't do that. But our dear allies in House Alecto might be more cynically mercantile in buying off minor rivals."
VioletBlood nodded.
"Where we simply hire various local security experts," I shrugged, my armor shifting over my shoulder. "It's a shame that they are not up to the task and some of their competitors have shown an eager interest in the defenses of both the Emma Mine Complex and the nearby Oraje Refinery."
Lares snorted.
I studied the baroness as she fidgeted. She had been out here with the rest of our squadron and had gone through just as much toil in providing ground support and taking on superior numbers of irregular Ritual Plate Pilots.
"The Diluvians may have been flying second-hand obsolete suits on which they had been trained by mercenaries of dubious origin. But merely having a Ritual Plate was a mass asset to their ground fighters and requires us to respond in kind."
"Dubious? It's Ziox." VioletBlood stated.
"Probably," I agreed. Their assault on my birthday was an expensive shattering for the light Wing they had raised, but our forces had not come out unscathed. And given we wanted to have at least a squadron held at base for combat air patrol and in reserve, it did diminish FOB EmeraldInferno's ability to send out forward missions.
It was gratifying that there were parts of the Imperial Legions who were tracking the logistics trail of parts, tools, fuels, and munitions that were required to supply any military force, but especially one as intricate as Ritual Plate. "Are our spies also tracking their maintainers?" I wondered.
Ritualista took time to train up and while a force could skimp on maintenance for a time... it would rapidly catch up: with reduced operational tempo, underperforming suits, fewer suits, and then no RP force at all.
"It's one of the things we're looking for," Lares noted. "Bit hard to tell just from sight, but sometimes groups moving through the forest have a few tenderfeet you know? Folks more built for fiddling with engraving and enchanting than slogging through the woods. Or they're carrying boxes of tools and parts. Either way."
"It's not like they can use VTOLs to ship them between locations," I noted.
"Could, but we'd notice. And even we can get the sky closed to us." He paused to gauge my reaction.
"We try our best, but there's only so many RP Pilots," I shrugged. As expensive as our kit was and as rare as our talent was, we were always in demand.
Lares chuckled. "Right, only thing worse than being useless in the eyes of the brass-horns is to be useful."
"And the VTOL Pilots and their air crew are in that category. I can't carry any supplies worth a dam but a Load Mistress?"
"She can airdrop a pallet right on the X. Even if it's a tiny forest clearing," Lares agreed.
I nodded and took out another canteen to sip from. My suit had a full internal water supply, but I was saving that for when I got into the air.
There was also the fact that it was easy to hide stockpiles of suits and pilots. It was much harder to hide pilots in the air, especially since there was a Strategic Recon Squadron with a flight's worth of Occultia at the Legionary base by the Refinery's airport.
"They've kept pressure on us, but that seems wasteful," VioletBlood started having some water and a snack of her own. "Even if they knocked out this position. We still have Cohorts of troops by the mine and a whole RP Wing."
"Cuts down our response time?" Lares shrugged. "From here we can stage and supply operations, and deploy patrols more easily."
"Maybe, maybe they wanted to blood their troops, or some foolishness." I suspected that Trosier, or possibly Ziox, had managed to ship a few simulators. Though even that would limit their ability to train for multi Flight operations, let alone as a coherent Wing.
"Some think that way," Lares agreed. "Expensive way to get experience."
"If I were training a guerrilla air force I'd ask for my benefactors to provide a training location outside of my enemy's range or at least not under frequent airborne surveillance," I murmured.
VioletBlood shivered at the word "training". I'm not sure why. When the three Flights of 5th Squadron competed I made sure our Flight always had a good showing. Yes, it required extra flight and simulator time, and I had to get... creative.
However, Visha was an old hand at giving her fellow fliers encouragement and got my Flight and the rest of the squadron to pull together. It's not like I even got the chance to use live ammunition against them. That Telephe Squadron Lance strike passed us well outside the margin of error. And we were completely within the firing arc of that Arachne artillery battery.
I crunched another sugar crystal. I'd also have a plan that would not pit my strength against the enemy's strength. Yes, in that attack they outnumbered the RP assets of FOB EmeraldInferno by three to one. But that was before training, unit cohesion, experience, and operational direction were taken into account.
"They've got the transportation for that." The Diluvians do have motor vehicles. "There's even a pretty good rail network in their territory, if you ignore the sabotage their neighbors keep doing."
"That sounds like Alecto's doing," I murmured. "Still, attacking here would put their strength against ours. That's not the best move for the weaker force."
Not to mention that the FOB had its own scrying systems and multiple mobile Vel anti-air missile launchers. They would have been better off using pairs or Flights of RP as dedicated fire support units for their ground elements. However that was a limited tactic, as such penny-packet deployments would invite a counter-attack from superior air assets.
"Maybe they got war-fever and were all excited from their new weapons?" VioletBlood offered. Of course she would think that way.
But I had to shrug in vague agreement to the possibility. "My worry is that the Diluvians have learned from their costly mistake and are saving their rebuilt Ritual Plate forces for a situation where they felt their firepower and mobility would be decisive. Or possibly they, or their patrons, had scaled back such an expensive investment, and instead had concentrated on infantry arms. Something to more efficiently take us out."
Trosier and Ziox both had man-portable anti-air weapons, and some light vehicular-mounted systems. Loading up Diluvian irregulars with those might be a better expenditure, if they wanted to push back BlackSkyvian air superiority for a local time and place.
Ritual Plate was flashy and had a lot of firepower and mobility in a small package, but the expense, even if you had a patron supplying it, made them wasteful. Unless the Diluvians, or their allies, were planning on building up a real military? If they made a bid to control the whole Eastern Interior Confederation, well... Alecto was very pragmatic in such things, as long as the mine was kept operational.
Though I did wonder if this was not just a squabbling game of "Who gets to skim from the imperial invaders?"
"We're not invaders," VioletBlood testily said.
Oh, I guess that part of my musing was aloud. "They think we are. They think we're Alecto's lackeys. The terror troops they'll drop on their villages and cities and burn them to the ground."
"We are not lackeys!" VioletBlood snarled.
I shook my head. Crazy demons. Though it did lift my spirits a bit to see Lares similarly resigned at her outburst. At least not everyone was mad out here.
"It's enough that they see us as lackeys," I stressed. "People aren't rational. You have to consider their desires and their worldview and knowledge. There's more to battle than learning enemy locations, numbers, and capability."
Looking weary and a bit sweat-shined, VioletBlood huffed. "We know how it goes: we find them, they attack us. We take out their air assets, then go pound them from the sky."
"Probably, but unless the Imperatrix wants to just keep a guard force by the mines until we both muster out, there will have to be some action to address the root causes," I managed not to frown. "Addressing root causes" for an imperial power often amounted to killing everyone capable of fighting you in an area and calling it victory. That is after bribery and vassals failed.
"Maybe just cutting off their supply of air assets will calm things down?" Visha asked as she stepped up to us. Unlike VioletBlood she had kept her helmet on and like me had simply lifted up her faceplate.
My mood brightened on seeing her. Even VioletBlood seemed a bit happier. Though my wingwoman was carrying a sealed carafe that smelled of coffee.
"Ever optimistic," VioletBlood sniffed.
"Without heavy-duty magical and mundane munitions Crocelli's own forces should be able to handle it," Visha said as she first offered the carafe to Lares. "Right?"
Lares nodded his thanks and accepted a surprisingly small amount. Even taking into account his large cup.
"Probably, maybe, at least with Alecto's help," I noted as Visha filled my cup. "How is GreyDawn doing?"
"Submitting maintenance logs to Quirinus," Visha brightly said.
"And how are we doing for parts stocks?" Our standard resupply drop had been delayed for a day.
"Even after that last... intense fight we've still got two weeks of operational capability."
I gave her a steady look. Being an airborne and air assault force the BlackSkyvian Imperial Legions were rather focused on supplies and transport capability. Nearly 15% of active Legions were Logistics Legions. They were eight cohort sized formations of vehicles for airborne and ground cargo transport, with their own organic supporting maintenance, repair vehicles, armor, artillery, infantry, and Ritual Plate. And that was to supplement the cargo and lift capacity of the Household Fleet
"At current operational tempos."
"That is correct, Primus," Visha admitted while pouring some coffee for VioletBlood.
I softened my expression a bit. Our supplies were supposed to be secure. Even with the FOB limited to just BlackSkyvian personnel, our power cells, munitions, spare parts, tools, food, and water were all under guard. If a creative enemy could slip in there was no telling the havoc they could accomplish.
I looked up over the netting and sighed. Military vehicles, including Ritual Plate, were their most vulnerable when they were parked waiting to be deployed, or when being maintained.
Lares tilted his shaggy head. Frowning, his hand went to the large machine gun he carried as his standard rifle.
My tail flicked and I looked at him.
"Pressure's dropping... Storm's coming in?" he ventured then looked over past the artillery positions. "Yup, clouds."
VioletBlood swore something about her hair and started slipping her helmet on around her horns.
I slipped the foil packet of energy crystals into a side compartment of my armor while Visha sealed up her carafe and Lares policed his ration boxes and plopped his soup pot-sized helmet on.
Just before the sky opened up and it began to pour. The sky had darkened around us as if sunset had suddenly arrived and gotten to its midpoint.
I sighed as fat raindrops bounced off my helmet.
"We should get inside," VioletBlood said after she finished clasping her helmet.
Lares shrugged. "If it keeps up into the night, might be useful." His musing was interrupted by rolling thunder.
All of us, the three demons in advanced flight armor and the immense Forest Person scout tilted our heads. A bit of tension came off us like steam in the heavy rain. It was not artillery, a Torpedo bombardment, or enemy explosives; it was just thunder.
"Yeah, we should get in," I said, relaxing a bit "Find GreyDawn and-".
And then my comms activated. "DiamondDust. Location. Status," Quirinus demanded.
"I have the two Vs; we're behind the hangar looking over the mortars," Slamming down my faceplate, I glanced over the display that lit up. "My Flight is condition green."
"I'm sending GreyDawn to you, get in the air. Now. Coordinates being transferred over now."
"Understood," I swore, hardly noticing as Lares slipped away, doubtless to get to his scouting team to do his part.
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Heavy rain always made flying more challenging for a number of reasons, the two primary ones being that visibility was down and that water grounded magical phenomena.
The decrease in visibility was remedied by navigating with the aid of instruments and with the composite display generated from the scrying systems. Water required dedicated shielding. Ritual Plate was an enclosed system with insulated, isolated power distribution systems.
However, no system was perfect. This meant both that the Ritual Plate's various components were subject to leakage and to the magical, and literal, version of waste heat.
Our heading was roughly southeast of FOB EmeraldInferno. The four of us flew in a staggered diamond formation taking advantage of the higher maneuverability and better response time Polyxos offered to spread out over a greater range and altitude than was strictly textbook. The increased distance between fliers allowed us to make better use of the superior data compositing offered by having four Gorgon Rigs.
It had taken a great deal of effort not to mention political and fiscal capital to get my Flight so equipped; I was going to make use of the tactical advantage provided by our shiny cutting-edge arcane technology.
"Status of Flight 1 and 2?" I asked GreyDawn over the Flight Channel.
She had taken the rear position as VioletBlood's wingwoman, which would help temper my little war maniac. Hopefully. All I could see of the pair from my rear view were the two distortions in the rain-filled night sky, thanks to the effect of the active camouflage system. Said systems did not, unfortunately offer prefect concealment, especially when we were slicing through water droplets at nearly the speed of sound.
"Quirinus' Flight is configured for Strike package and positioning to lend support to whichever target is selected. Mercy's was already sent on a fire support mission."
Great, so that was at least two groups of Legionnaires and Auxilia that had called for air support. And the rain was not helping.
Wards were also a bit mixed in heavy rain. They were an external energy projection and while constantly being hammered by water was technically detrimental; they were designed to resist physical and magical attacks. The net result was that in heavy rain, the amount of power budget to maintain the wards skyrocketed.
At least it was just rain this time. Heavy saltwater spray was even worse when it came to increasing power consumption, given the extra salinity meant that from a metaphysical standpoint there was literal ground in the water. Not to mention that saltwater was corrosive to metal and other materials from a mundane chemistry standpoint.
Which in turn meant that it was also arcanely corrosive. This was why Ritual Plate was not great when submerged in water, especially saltwater. It also meant that for extended Naval operations such as on seaborne carriers or submarines Ritual Plate suits required some modifications to increase their resistance to saltwater.
"Flight Ops. Flight Ops. This is Diamond Flight. Requesting link up with-," I paused to recall the name of the Long Range Patrol. "- Crimson Recon."
"Understood Diamond," the smooth unflappable voice of a Legionary Flight Controller replied. "We have a telemetry update. Connecting you with Centurion Galba."
I approved the update and took in the slight changes to the tactical picture. There was a squelch and the channel opened. "Diamond Flight here. We will arrive in... thirty."
"About time!" A brusque, contra-alto voice said as weapons fire cut in over the audio. "We took out one of their patrols and they called down a demi-cohort on us. Marking targets!" she said before reading off a list of coordinates while transmitting the locations.
I repeated them back to her. Despite the hurry, Galba was more than willing to triple-check an air support run. I switched to Flight channel to confirm the targeting information with my troops then went back to the Recon Centurion. "We're starting the approach."
"Wait until I give the go," Galba was breathing hard and I could hear her grenadiers firing over the connection. Recon Contubernium tended to have a higher number of those arcane specialists that typical formations. "My Auxilia still need to break contact!"
I bit down on a curse. I could understand sending a rearguard to help your own troops withdraw to a more favorable position, and the Forest People did have that excellent, but rare, combination of greater stealth and of greater size and thus firepower.
Jungle flashed below us, the vibrant greenery made into shades of grays by the rain and the false coloring of my scrying suite. Crimson Recon's Contubernium had fallen back to the upper part of a small ridgeline overlooking a river that snaked through the valley. The change in terrain was reduced to a minor undulation by the heavy forest.
"Connect me to your Auxi," I stated, my will adamantine. Our Gorgon Rigs were collating data and despite the concealment provided by the double canopy of trees there was a collection of probable hits and various motions that were likely enemy formations spreading and trying to cut-off Crimson Recon. Thankfully those locations were a close match to the target coordinates
Galba paused. I did outrank her, but normally Legion Fliers providing fire support deferred to Legionaries on the ground. "Patching in." There was a click. "Varro, we've got RP incoming."
"Outstanding!" the deep voice grunted. "Flaccus and I are having a spot of trouble here." A Minerva rotary cannon's firing cut in. Which hopefully was either his weapon or Flaccus's. I confirmed his relative position to Galba and the location of the rest of the recon group.
With those coordinates, I then gave him our approach vector.
"Understood," Varro said before giving the position of the keep out zone we were not to fire in.
"We're starting a Falx run in ten. Walk us in," I ordered. The picture was starting to clear and I was setting my flight on their targets.
Varro chuckled deeply. "If not for these Southern-Sucking excuses for trees, I'd throw out a signal grenade."
"Strafing now," I said, my lips peeling back in a rictus grin.
Four sets of Polyxo Ritual Plate flipped down and went into a descending arc. Following my lead, the rest of my flight put down barrages flanking my own. Orange bolts of energy sliced through the trees to vanish below the foliage.
The scrying intake showed the anti-infantry fire intersecting with many probable enemies.
"North. North. North! One hundred. One hundred!" Varro shouted. When he spoke I could hear the impacts of our arcane attacks in the background.
"Adjusting fire!" I replied and the Falx fire shifted up the slope the enemies had gone down.
"Oh, Desert! They've got a golem. Up slope four hundred. Pilum now!" Varro shouted.
"Confirm." I told him.
"Violet, Grey, fire solution. Anti-armor!" I then ordered. I had no idea what kind of golem the Diluvians had managed to bring with them, but it was bad enough that a Forest Person Auxilia scout demanded an immediate air strike on it.
Heavier Pilum bolts rocked down as large branches started to fall. One must have hit a trunk as an entire towering tree slowly toppled over.
"Keep at it! Breaking contact now!" Varro ordered. "Go Flaccus! Go!" The Forest Person ordered as the two Auxilia made use of the chaos to withdraw. Given their abilities I gave them good odds.
I adjusted my fire further up the slope. "Visha, take their right flank!" I ordered.
My wingwoman complied as we shot past, accelerating to turn and gain altitude. After a quick flip, my Flight was ready for another strafing run.
Yes, Ritual Plate could hover, functionally having no stall speed. In theory, a Flight could park at a high altitude and simply pummel the ground with concentrated fire, but that was an unnecessary risk. Precluding that option was the main reason most BlacSkyvian Legion ground vehicles carried Vel Missiles. The intent was less to hit enemy air assets and more to force them to a greater distance or speed if they wanted to attack.
Hovering bombardment was a maneuver I sometimes took as an Aerial mage. But that tended to only be when lining the 203rd up for a strike on a target without any anti-air assets, such as when we had attacked the capital of the Grand Duchy of Dacia.
Similarly, doctrine allowed for Ritual Plate to slow down when doing fire support on enemies without air power. It was a trade-off between time on target, accuracy of ground attack fire, and risk of being shot down by enemy fire.
Frankly, I considered that the first two could be mitigated by superior training and targeting systems, all without opening one up to a greater risk of enemy fire. In fairness we had slowed down from the dash speed we were at to get here, but that was as much a trade-off between speed and fuel burn as anything else.
"Situation?" I asked, switching to Centurion Galba. I made sure to keep my voice as even as possible. The last thing a hoof slogger on the ground wanted to hear was an excitable, or worse yet, frightened, Ritual Plate pilot.
"Calling in medivac," her deep voice tersely replied. "Varro and Falccus are pulling up but I'm still down two. And I'm sending them out again."
I glanced at my map. Without wounded, a Recon team had a few options. Escaping while air support, my Flight, pummeled the Diluvians was one of the more sensible ones. That would give them time to rendezvous with a Spatha, which would pull them out. With eight legionaries and two Forest People, it would be a cramped fit and the Spatha's operational range would be decreased, but it was possible. That was how they deployed after all.
But if they needed a medivac then their wounded had to get out as soon as practical. Which required a landing under fire, after cutting out a landing zone. Which was why we carried the temperamental Blue Daisy munitions in our Verutum Launchers.
I went to the Flight channel. "Violet, coordinate with Flight Ops. Medivac VTOL is incoming, I won't be surprised if escorting and other assets are inbound too.
That was doctrine as well. Troops and vehicles were vulnerable in transition zones. And landing ops were the ultimate expression of that. Thus the Legions would throw whatever they had to avoid losing a VTOL, getting troops trapped, or both. Because once assets started going down and casualties mounted it was easy for things to spiral out of control.
"I'll coordinate ground fire," I continued before swapping back to the ground channel. "Galba, do you have updated targets?"
"Yes!" She cried, a Vel missile launcher and machine guns going off behind her. "A Diluvian century is trying to pin us so another can cross the river while the third comes in from the side. They've got some self-propelled heavy mortars and are setting up machine guns. My grenadiers have spoiled the flankers but that was just enough to get the Auxilia out."
She passed the coordinates of the main body. "Varro, do you have eyes on the mortars?"
There was a silent click of a transmit button being hit. I suppose I should have some reservations on sending Auxilia troops out to do dangerous spotting, but they were the most stealthy and they only had to see the enemy assets. Though visibility was very reduced given the terrain and weather state
"Excellent," I could just hear Galba's vicious glee as Varro used a keypad to his comms to type out relative position. While the silence was a bit awkward, given the conditions it would have to do.
I split the targeting. VioletBlood and GreyDawn got the main body while Visha and myself took the mortars. They sounded like House Trosier's Gravina self-propelled golem-mounted heavy mortar platforms. They had an internal magazine and could be reloaded from cargo golems similar to our Marius Mules. Trosier mostly used them for amphibious operations, which did mean they could work well with water and rough terrain.
My Flight bent as one and went from our roughly level evasive flight to a steep spiraling dive consisting of complex helical motions. We bled altitude and the grey-false color of the trees shot up towards us.
Scrying intake was overlaid with the target locations. There was some correlation but we were mostly shooting blinded.
"Release. Release. Release!" I shouted. A deluge of arcane energy joined the heavy rain as a part of the forest was ravaged by Falx bolts and another seemingly innocuous part of the forest was hit by a spread from our Pilum projectors.
There was a rumble and then that whole section went up in a ponderous-seeming deflagration as the entire mortar battery was consumed by a cascading chain of explosive as their ammunition supplies cooked off. A whole part of the jungle canopy simply slumped.
"Target hit," Visha calmly stated while I smiled. Water sheeted off our suits as we turned and with a sudden burst of G loading twisted into a wide spiral that would pull us away from the enemy.
VioletBlood was still firing.
"Break. Break!" I ordered. The only thing keeping me from summarily punishing her myself was that she was still in formation. And was thus only expending ammo on a low probability of hit.
I could respect the psychological effect. The enemy did outnumber us, but they had been slogging through the pouring rain in a hellish jungle that was only slightly less painful due to their familiarity. And they had though the hated imperialists were cornered, only for the sky to open up with unseen enemies ravaging them with impunity.
Their heavy weapons were being picked off and the enemy looked like they would once again escape their grasp.
And that's when their anti-air fire opened up and the sky was full of streaking missiles launched from half a dozen positions all over the forest.
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Threat warnings blared and tracks appeared on my helmet display. In an instant I concluded several things: the missiles had some form of external guidance, their speed was impressive though they might have a terminal phase that was even faster, the enemy had spread out a rather large "net" of teams to try and capture whatever RP would be sent in to relieve Crimson Recon.
And finally that our maneuvers had kept us from being fully trapped. Each launch position had fired off about two missiles and was now launching another pair. Which either meant the enemy had fielded a rather large, and well-supplied, team of man-portable missileers or a few light launchers that were holding back some of their capacity. A Vel launcher mounted on a Marius Mule could hold 8 missiles for example.
"Violet! Grey! Aft counter-fire! Visha, clear front with me!" I ordered as I changed our heading right along the river that Crimson Recon had pulled across.
My flight dropped down in altitude and shot to the west. Falx fire from the rest of my Flight spiraled out tagging most of the missiles as they worked to clear their sectors. Making the most of our superior maneuvering and speed, I had us dash at max power.
My wings burned silver as the rainwater started to steam when it hit the feathers. I winced at the arcane bloom of it and put more power into camouflage and veiling. A third brace of missiles had launched and they were using the destruction of the ones ahead of them to get closer.
"Close in! Dive, dive! Visha, follow my fire" I ordered as I switched to my Verutum Launcher and picked the Blue Daisy munitions. These "pebbles" were made of synthetic sapphire grown around a core of silver-edged obsidian. The ruby was laced with gold runes to allow for charging beyond the energy already inside it. This allowed for a higher yield and when detonated would crush the obsidian core powering its one-shot evocation.
The result was a powerful, if expensive, detonation. It had a reasonable overpressure but was limited in ability to pierce enemy armor. And while a Blue Daisy could work in an anti-infantry role, in this campaign it had a more mundane role.
I charged and shot out four Blue Daisies and the munitions vanished into the dense trees in front of me. After a moment I detonated them and the explosions scythed out shredding foliage, but more importantly cutting branches. The canopy slumped a bit and Visha's fire joined in and cut a hole.
It was ragged and messy but it was also more than large enough for us to pass through. Normally cutting a landing zone involved blowing up the upper canopy to reveal the lower one, and then use more Blue Daisy munitions or even Pilum projectors to cut out heavier trunks.
Normally flying in the trees would be nothing more than a prolonged way to commit suicide.
"Follow!" I ordered and zipped through the aperture.
The normal rules were not quite applicable here, because instead of ground below this hole was that wide, but slow-moving, river. To my Flight's credit they adjusted their formation and went through.
GreyDawn launched her own barrage, slicing through the missiles that followed. I glanced at the status display and fought down a slight wince. It seemed that my most experienced pilot had done more than just help VioletBlood in counter-fire. But her systems were still in the yellow zone.
"Where next, Primus?" Visha dutifully asked as we went down the green tunnel. Water whipped all around us as rain poured down and the river sprayed up. Despite VioletBlood's unverbalized complaints I had slowed us down.
My plan was to have us go low, below the treetops, follow downstream and take out the eastern and northern sides of the ground battery crews to link up with the medivac and relief VTOLs.
But... I glanced at the tactical map. "Reverse! We're going upstream!"
"That will take us back to..." VioletBlood trailed off, then let out a malevolent little titter. "Wonderful, Countess!"
Though her bloodthirsty joy vanished quickly when I increased our speed after we changed direction
I switched channels. "Centurion Galba, Scout Varro. We are doing a close support run. Mark enemy positions visually. Repeat! Visually."
"What?" Galba's surprised but weary voice cut in, but she still gave the order to her grenadiers. Meanwhile the Forest Person simply gave a dark laugh.
The sounds of combat came up and we turned a bend as the river split up into a shallow, natural ford. And two whole centuries of Diluvian troops appeared.
Wearing dark green uniforms of a rubberized waterproof material that resembled shorts and stockings with an armored vest the Diluvian soldiers had short carbines and a fair mix of heavier weapons. One roughly-century sized formation was halfway across the river while the other half was still wading across. The other formation was still entirely on the far side giving fire support.
There were broken bodies and shattered trees and equipment strewn about everywhere from our first strafing runs. And Crimson Recon likewise was resisting the vast numerical disadvantage, leveraging an elevated position to put their weaponry to good use against the oncoming enemy reinforcements.
Then four Ritual Plate suits raced in, a bare twenty feet over the rippling water surface. I would like to think that the enemy paused in disbelief at our sudden appearance.
But even for those with our vision the night and intense rain limited visibility. Until several angry red flares were shot out by the grenadiers and they got a clear look at the figures racing in as blurred grey-green shadows.
The four of us opened up with Falx fire. GreyDawn took those across the river and provided the closest support, while VioletBlood pounded the river so hard that parts of the surface started to steam. There was so much water, and it was all moving, that none of the enemy would actually get hot enough to be boiled alive, but I doubt that was much consolation to them as their visibility was clouded and no small number slipped under the water and were trampled by their comrades.
Visha and I went right down the throat of the troops on the far side of the river.
Small arms fire bounded off our wards. A few units had both crew-served weapons and the sense to try to bring them to bear. They were the first ones targeted.
Ritual Plate could hover and I could see the argument where other Pilots would slow down in light of the extremely confined, extremely low-altitude area and count on the sudden shock and terror of the enemy at facing magical armored battle suits. It was one thing to fight Ritual Plate at a distance with your own airframe, arcana, or missiles, it was another when a seemingly impervious suit was right there staring you down with an impassive death mask faceplate.
But I was not other pilots, nor was I flying with a standard Plate jockey. I had a veteran of the 203rd as my wingwoman. I had a woman who had seen everything the Rhine Front could throw at her and walked out the other side with a smile. We had spent two lifetimes as flying combatants. Neither one of us would just stop and stand still in midair to fire.
We flew into the enemy and tore them apart. Those who could run, did. One nice thing about the pouring rain was that the blood that splashed onto our armor was quickly washed off. Maybe a bit too quick for a major physiological effect but I saw enough Diluvian infantry freeze at our forms to know there was enough. We were close enough to feel their courage curdle into fear and boil into naked panic.
We were close enough to feed.
I knew they would regroup and fight us again. Likely quite soon, but pursuing them into the forest when the enemy had had time to regain their sense and set up ambushes was suicidal. A giddy... predatory part of me wanted to chase them down, rip the survivors apart and feast. But I held back.
Besides, that would disappoint Visha.
She had done so much to be here at my side.
At least we had confirmed that they had been equipped with Gravina model self-propelled mortars of House Trosier manufacture. Also that third Diluvian formation was still out there. They had withdrawn from Crimson Recon in mostly good order. From the radio intercepts it sounds like they had pulled through a nasty ambush that only a pair of irate Forest People could set up.
Looking down at the rain-soaked bodies around me, and firing an idle shot at the few stragglers who could still be going for weapons, I wondered which would be more of a visceral experience: having the equivalent of a pair of attack helicopters drop among you, or being hit by a pair of giant, yet invisible, monsters with crew-served scale weaponry?
In addition to decimating the enemy formation, that also allowed the rest of Crimson Recon to adjust their position. I meant a colloquial decimation, not the actual punishment the Imperial Legions technically retained. Meanwhile, Visha and I fell back to VioletBlood and GreyDawn's position.
"Back to Crimson Recon," I ordered, gasping a bit and checking the power and munition status of my Flight. We were getting pretty low, but I considered that a fair tradeoff. "Everyone take some water, now."
"Check fire, Centurion," I said to Galba. "We are coming in to your north, low and slow."
"Confirm Diamond Flight. That was some close shooting there," Galba stated in a mix of awe and resignation. Doubtless she was worried about being saddled with some glory-seeking fools in magic armor, but I hoped my efforts to relieve her position had brought at least some tolerance form the career centurion.
"Yeah, well the sky got a bit crowded up there," I said before switching to Flight Ops and updating them on the situation. Any relief force needed to be made aware.
I paused. I must have miss-heard the recon Centurion. "Crimson Actual, could you repeat?"
"Can you share some of those kills?" Galba stated, a bit of frustration in her voice.
To my great shame, I nearly hit a tree. To be fair, without a river to block undergrowth it really was like flying a thread through well... a forest of needles, "For?"
"I have wounded, and my medic is running low and... meat is meat."
"Meat is meat," I echoed. I exhaled and went to a private channel. "GreyDawn, I need you and VioletBlood getting... supplies for our friendly medic. Our baroness was still a bit idealistic so a dirty job could help her season."
"Ah, yes. That would help." My most experienced Pilot cleared her throat. "You want me to make sure VioletBlood picks the best?"
I wondered if there was a subtext I was missing. "Yes, she can use some experience, and you can only carry so much. We'll be covering you two. Who knows maybe a... snack will help heal the wounded enough that we won't need a medivac," I said with forced joviality.
While we could heal a lot of physical trauma, it was a matter of careful application of life energy and other supplies. That we even had wounded who needed evacuation meant they had to be rather seriously injured. I doubted that even a skilled field trauma surgeon, let alone a medic, could do all that much to get them back to fighting shape, not without a massive infusion of life energy.
But it was important to keep up morale. And if... we had to use some enemy dead... So be it.
"Understood," GreyDawn's voice was tight. With a click then went to the Flight's unit channel, where she was, as normal and was all business. "LoveBlood! We've got a special job from the countess. Do what I say and don't ask questions."
Visha and I kept overwatch as the two went about their work. Under GreyDawn's expert eye, they picked a pair of rather intact enemy casualties and we flew over to where the recon team was.
The only reason the forest we flew through was not burning down was due to the constant, pouring rain, though the grenadiers had tried their best. There was blown-up wood, mangled bodies, carbines, and other kit, all heaped up in a great snarl of pulped garbage. It was not the job-lot production at the river, but there was an intensity that showed a lot of close ambushes and combat. Parts of the fighting had been red in tooth and claw.
No wonder Galba had ordered out for some fresher meat.
I motioned for VioletBlood and GreyDawn to deposit their flopping cargo by an impromptu aid station that had a freshly pulled up tarp over three Legionaries. Two were covered with burns and had sodden bandages, tightened tourniquets, and intravenous lines.
Two hulking Forest People standing guard were kind enough to help move the limp bodies over to the medic. Cracking a bit of my helmet seal, I sniffed the air and found myself thankful that the constant rain deadened smells. Those two hardly had the smell of death on them, though that stink did permeate this whole part of the forest.
I had plenty of experience knowing that corpses could gurgle and even seem to moan when their bodies were pressed. It was a sickening parody of life that had been common in the trenches, though rarely were the noises this lingering.
Still levitating, just enough to be eye-level with her, I turned to face Galba. The Centurion seemed to be lean to the point of all sharp edges and dense muscle. Dark hair was shaved down to a buzz and her horns curled up as she stared at me.
Purple eyes darted to the aid station and she softened a bit. "I won't forget this, Countess," she quietly said.
"It's nothing," I assured via external speakers. Once I saw VioletBlood and GreyDawn had finished I went to the Flight Channel. "Everyone, go up to the tree line. I want some scouting about what's going on, but don't expose yourselves. Just quick up and down."
Only once I had some air cover restored did I let my boots touch the ground with a squelch.
I looked around at the beaten squad of demons and Forest People. I put my arm on Galba's shoulder. "Good job. I'm just sorry we couldn't get here faster."
Her tail flicked. "You got in more than fast enough."
I nodded and turned to look at the weary troops, my helmeted gaze taking them in. They had been out in the field a long time and their munitions were running low but they were still unbroken. "Thank you. But we still have a job to do."
"The Imperatrix has given us a burden to bear." I glanced up. "Fortunately, in her wisdom, we are not alone." I raised a fist. "I have heard from Flight Ops. Relief is coming. It is our job to make sure the other RP Flights find clear skies and the ground troops can land safely."
Gabala nodded. "You heard the Primus, Crimson Recon!" There was a ragged cheer.
"Just a bit further," I assured, the likely lie smoothly slipping past my lips.
End Chapter 11
At least this time Tauria had some idea of the consequences of her upgrade plan.
Also there's been some more art of the chapter showing Tauria and people important to her. Check the relevant threadmarks for them.
Thanks to Readhead for coming up for the Chapter Title and DCG for some of the buisness ideas Tauria and Lares could have.
And special thanks to especially to DCG, Ellf, Green Sea, Readhead, and Preier for checking and reading over this chapter.