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 19: "Old Acquaintances and Uninvited Guests" Part 2

High over Lacus Superum on our northern border with House Elena, my Flight had been sent to investigate an Elenese Recon Squadron watching our training exercise. It turned out they were in fact a Vanguard Strike unit of four Squadrons, including nearly forty of their latest Volos air-superiority suits.

We were hilariously outnumbered. From Norden to Narvos to a dozen of other grubby hellholes, my troops and I had struggled against the odds. This time, it was twelve to one. I had beaten something... close to that before, but War Mistress Rodswor had been overconfident, had toyed with me, and had allowed me to defeat her forces in detail.

I saw no such faults with Pukovnik Armin. Her Pilots' equipment was roughly comparable to ours, Elena's training was thoroughly acceptable, and they had the additional advantage of a quartet of advanced Recon suits. We had only talked briefly, but she seemed sensible enough, a far cry from the ranting War Mistress. I was counting on that.

Backup was en route, icons from the medium carrier Hornet's escorts and RP squadrons were tantalizingly close on my map display, but moving with aching slowness. Except for a pair of Ascalon Torpedoes racing across the sky; those icons were quite fast.

Our heading was not directly towards the Volos Squadrons. They had come in using a textbook formation where each Squadron was supported by the other. Two were spread out in staggered chevrons side by side with the third higher and in between.

Even at cruise speed, they had impressive enough Veiling systems. At least House Elena was getting something out of the money they'd sunk into the project. However, with my Flight using Gorgon Rigs on active, we were more than able to keep our eyes on them, or close enough that it made little practical difference.

I started to bend the course of my Flight, feigning an attempt to evade and slip past the Volos Squadrons and get to the Recon Squadron. The Elenese reacted just as I was expecting, moving to protect those four exceedingly valuable Recon suits. It amused me a bit because three dozen stealth suits were far more expensive than four Mokoshs.

But I could respect wanting to protect your not-as-frontline comrades. That respect did not preclude me from taking advantage of their impulse, or their training to draw out more time. Anything for just that much more time.

"What is the plan, Ma'am?" GreyDawn asked.

"We're going to talk," I replied. It was a plan that had almost worked before. But now I had an idea what fears were driving the Elenese commander

My Flight took a moment to process that.

"With a pair of Torpedoes at our back?" GreyDawn clarified while VioletBlood made a gleeful noise.

I glanced at the Display. "Oh, they're no longer at our back."

Like all supersonic Fujiwara Torpedoes, the Ascalon cruised at a bit below Mach three. However, for the terminal phase it sprinted up to three and half times the speed of sound.

Taking a sip of water, I made one request to the Fleet before switching to the open channel. " Pukovnik Armin. Pukovnik Armin. Are you still lost? Do you need navigational assistance."

There was a beat as I watched the pair of Ascalons race past my Flight. The Volos Squadrons knew they were coming and had started to break into sub formations. Which was why BlackSkyvian doctrine was to fire Torpedoes carrying clusters of anti-air missiles.

The enemy squadrons also knew this and figured they had a bit more range. Which was why I blew the Torpedoes early. A pair of miniature suns flared in the sky as enough high energy ordnance to blow through two capital ships detonated.

The Volos squadrons were already breaking and maneuvering as if they were about to be plagued by Vel Missiles. And while forty missiles for thirty-six Pilots was not great, for an elite unit equipped with the best Elena had to offer, they had to think their chances were good. Instead, their wards flared and flashed as the shockwaves buffeted both of them.

"They didn't expect that!" VioletBlood's glee was infectious as the three enemy squadrons took a moment to recover and get back into good order.

"Countess, what game are you playing?" Pukovnik Emilia Armin demanded over the open channel.

"Look, we could all fight, and waste a lot of money, lives, and equipment. You've got the numbers to run my Flight down and kill us. But it will cost you. How many of your latest Ritual Plate are you willing to sacrifice? What about your commanding Brigadir? Is House Elena willing to gut their Volos Pilot corps tonight? And for what? Observations on a cadets' training exercise?"

And on my signal another pair of Torpedoes launched from the Kestrel.

"What are you afraid of?" I pressed. "That this isn't a training mission. That someone with my reputation couldn't possibly be babysitting a bunch of cadets. There's just a medium carrier group behind me. The Hornet is barely enough for a raid, but... she is enough to take out your Vanguard Strike unit," I kept my tone even. From what I recalled, there were no significant forces from the First Home Fleet on maneuvers at this latitude tonight. If I were wrong and a Fleet Carrier or two or, DarkStar forbid, a Heavy Air Trinity were up north near the border with Elena then my words would be far from calming.

Despite the risk. I put as much magnanimity in my voice as I could. "Or... you can leave with your shiny suits. And the intel you gathered tonight. In time, you can figure out what the cadets were fighting against based on how they were moving."

Nearly forty Volos air-superiority suits had reoriented themselves and had resumed their closing course, but this time spread out on far wider frontage. It made them more likely to survive a Torpedo strike but more susceptible to being defeated in detail by opposing Ritual Plate.

There was a low chuckle from the Elenese commander. "This isn't the first time you've used yourself as bait, Countess."

"Far from it, Emilia. The question is: will you step into the trap? Are you no better than the wildcat Ziox or the cavalier Trosier?"

"Yes, yes, next you'll point out that even our dissolute allies in Luxon realized the wisdom of not fighting you." Pukovnik Armin sighed. "I speak unveiled on the honor of Elena; you have my bond if I have your oath."

"You exaggerate and flatter me, Emilia," I said as if this were a ball and we were exchanging calling cards. "But yes, Pukovnik, you have my word in the Imperatrix's name and on DarkStar's blood, that if your forces leave in good order we will not fire upon you."

"My, the broadsheets and newsreels didn't stray too far from the truth with you, did they?" Emilia laughed. She then switched to Thokavian which Visha translated for our Flight. "All forces do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. Change bearing and take the least time route to cross the joint transit corridor. We are done here."

There was a pause, no doubt them checking that confirmation on a secured comm channel, but then the enemy forces did a quick turn that for a brief moment left them exposed to a counter-strike.

Instead, I remote-detonated the two inbound Torpedoes. They were still far enough away to cause no harm to our... guests.

Watching the squadrons retreat, a shiver went through me, but I ordered my Flight to follow a respectful distance behind. Our cruising was sedate, our heading was steady and predictable, and our scrying remained on active.

"Flight Ops this is Diamond Actual," I stated after drinking a bit of heated broth. "Elenese Recon Squadron has been investigated. Further Elena assets, Volos model RP, were discovered totaling Demi-Wing strength. We are escorting them back out of contested airspace."

"Uh. Confirm Diamond Flight," the dispatcher said. "One moment."

"Standby."

"Ma'am, you are aware you were using the open channel to talk to your new friend, Emilia?" GreyDawn inquired over the Flight channel.

"How else would we communicate? We didn't set up a private broadcast channel." I replied. While there were established procedures outlining limited comms sharing with allies, House Elena was far from an our ally, and sharing a direct comm link would have violated protocol.

"What she means is that everyone could listen in. All the Pilots on both sides, the Fleet units, even our cadets and any civilians monitoring that channel," Visha explained.

My tail stilled as we flew. "Ah, an excellent point."

"It was a great feat of domination, Countess!" VioletBlood cheered. "You showed everyone who was in charge."

I was, briefly, thankful when Flight Ops interrupted. "Diamond Actual, I have Hornet Actual."

And then my heart sank.

"Praefectus Commodore Lady Eliza Bellus HoofBridge, a pleasure," I greeted the carrier's commander formally. I tensed. It looked like she was not even going to wait until I got back to her ship to chew me out.

"Primus Centurion Countess DiamondDust, I am sorry," Praefectus HoofBridge said with a mix of regret and surprised satisfaction.

"You're... what?" I blurted out, many lessons on deportment and how to communicate with superiors tumbling out of my mind in shock.

"Oh, it's not a formal Apology. Though knowing your mother... if things had gone..." She laughed as if sending four Pilots out to potential doom was just a part of the job. Which, indeed, it was. "Regardless, I am sorry that you did not get to wet your claws. I commend you on your restraint."

"Ah. It was a bit trying at moments." That was the truth. I took in the map. The training exercise was long done, but the Fleet assets, both airships Ritual Plate, and many cadets had been moving to the north. No wonder Pukovnik Armin decided to take her forces back to the Elenese side of the great lake.

"I know it must have galled you to just let them go like that, but we both know those Recon suits likely already transmitted whatever intel they had gathered from the exercise. And while you might not have been able to give those Volos suits a bloody nose, your own Gorgon Rigs have been giving us good telemetry and more on them."

"I... I suppose we'll have to be satisfied with that," I allowed. "I do wonder just why they had a full Vanguard Strike unit out here."

"Maybe they were testing our scrying systems to see when we'd spot their new Volos suits?"

"That is a possibility, Ma'am. They set up that Recon Squadron. They'll learn a bit more about our training, but the real lesson was seeing when we would respond and if we would notice a few squadrons of their new stealth fighter suits lying doggo."

"Perhaps, Countess. They could also have been going off on some other mission and were close enough to backup that Recon Squad. That's a question for Fleet Intel, or CSR if they find that level of skullduggery worth it."

"I'd be happy to help," I replied with forced gusto. The Household Fleet Intelligence service was not so bad, if a bit stuffier than the Imperial Legion's equivalent. Both focused on military intelligence and had counter-intel branches to secure facilities and guard against subornation and infiltration. All logical stuff with focused remits. It was the Office of Cultural Reconnaissance, and their far broader charter, that worried me.

"Good, I've sent my Second Squadron out to relieve you, though some of Kestrel's girls may beat them to the punch. After that, I request you get back on my ship and take the rest of the night off. I don't want you getting back out into the sky and trying to find your new Elenese friend."

I gave a laugh that wheezed with all the build up stress escaping. Of course HoofBridge thought I was just as bloody-minded as she was. "We can do that, Hornet Actual."

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Early autumn was a lovely time in the City of Trees. The air was starting to grow cooler and the leaves were turning but had yet to fall. A festive air hung over the city as the various faiths present in Silvana prepared for the major holidays concentrated in the next few months. Some of the celebrations were cloyingly commercialized or overly sanctimonious and generally tedious, but the overall melange was charming enough.

I suppose my mood was elevated by recent events. The whole incident north of the Adria Testing Range had terminated in debriefings, including a detailed review of my Flight's scrying intake. The clouds of hyped reputation and endless meetings even had a silver lining, as I got to present our findings on the Volos Ritual Plate to one of our Aggressor Squadrons. They were the dissimilar training instructors who provided simulations of enemy pilots for Pilot training.

That my Flight had some very nice telemetry on the capabilities of those suits was a ribbon in my hair, to say the least. That it both helped the security of my House and advanced my career was a happy coincidence. Then came the debriefing of my noble cadets. They had fared well, and only took a bit of justifiable pride in winning the bet over Wencesla's Fleet cadets.

They still had a few rough edges, but there was only so much a few months of training and a handful of live fire exercises could drill into them.

The real improvement to my mood was due to my mother Clementia coming by for a visit. She had not been able to come by in time for the Feast of DarkStar, but she was here now. Seeing her again almost made up for how I was dressed and how we had spent the day. I wrinkled my nose. Almost.

"You know you don't have to wear the half-veil," Mother Clementia said with a light smile as we sat down in the cafe. It was not my usual place. We had just left the annex to the Upper-Silvan DarkStar Cathedral of Our Hallowed Lady. I was not too familiar with this part of the city, as I normally preformed my obeisance at the family shrine in my Duchess's manor.

But I had been around the Cathedral long enough to know where the better local coffee and pastries could be found. This particular cafe, and the adjacent pub, looked like they had been built out of a corner of a set of row houses. The apartments had been gutted, with the upper half now converted into a large multi-floor atrium that served as a plant nursery and the lower half left for the aforementioned businesses, as well as the and sale and storage of various botanical supplies. It all meant this cafe was still filled with the delicate scents of fresh flowers and rich soil even now, when fall was upon us.

Just below us and down a switchback, a large hotel loomed, all brass accents and bas relief carvings. The banners of minor Houses Crocelli and Vualia fluttered from the entrance and from the heavy presence of hotel detectives and even Imperial Legionaries I supposed the building was hosting some sort of diplomatic summit. It was certainly busy enough, with knots of people out on the hotel's own cafe patio engaged in quiet conversations. I watched them for a moment and shook my head.

"I didn't have to wear the veil during the ceremonies?" I asked, focusing on my mother.

Laughing, she tucked back an errant lock of hair. The rest of her purple hair was hidden behind the long shiny black headdress that fell from the bandeau tightly encircling her brow. A silver four-pointed star adorned the front of the guimpe that draped down from her neck and coif. The rest of her habit consisted of her tall boots, long gloves and a dress below a bodice laced with pale red ribbons

"You know the symbolism." She looked every part a sister of the Order of Our Hallowed Lady. And I looked just as much like a novitiate sister.

Most of the time, it was easy to forget, or at least push aside, the fact that I had taken the simple vows and obligations to the Church of DarkStar. As a novitiate there were no vows of poverty or chastity and it did not interfere with my Legionary career or the noble games from my other mother Duchess SilverFlight.

"Novitiates are to be seen and not heard," I stated. My status as a nun, even a glorified trainee, was hard to ignore when I was wearing my own headdress. Going down to my shoulders, it was far shorter than Mother Clementia's and thus only covered most of my hair; long curled bangs managed to escape.

The ethereal white dress was plain enough, with only some ruffles, a ribbon tie and large black cuffs. Honestly, after having to endure gowns, the dress was more than acceptable, even if it was covered by stars and other DarkStar iconography. The half-veil over my nose and mouth however...

"And I do appreciate you spending time with me," my mother took my hand. "And bearing with our Order."

"Our?"

Clementia smiled. "Dear, you didn't just take the vows to please me. And it's not pressure from the Church, they're more than satisfied with your performance as a relic-bearer. You're dressed this way because of your faith."

I stopped fussing with my half-veil. "Well..." Could I have just not done this? Does this mean I could stop?

My mother squeezed my hand. "What worries you, daughter?"

I did not want to trouble her with my questions of faith. There had been more rumors of DarkStar's return, but those were seemingly evergreen. I had my doubts as to what DarkStar was actually like when she was alive, but I still tried to live my life... well I had always lived to the role set out by society.

"I have Advanced Evasion School next week. Reinhild has been helping me train, but it is intense," I stated.

"Is that it?" Mother asked before pulling back so the somewhat awed and diffident waitress could take our orders.

Which I suppose was fair, given how we were dressed. I was also wearing the ruby-tear-drop ornament of the Preserver Order around my neck.

"She probably doesn't recognize you," Mother assured as the waitress left.

"One upside of having my hair stuffed under this thing," I noted.

"There is a degree of anonymity, but your wings are special even if they don't know who you are," Mother Clementia said.

Fluffing my wings, I laughed ruefully. "Indeed. These things are special enough for an Elenese commander to guess my identity after a mere glimpse of them."

My mother gave a small smile.

"How are things going in the orphanage?" I asked. "I'd like to come and visit for the winter holidays, or maybe the Feast of DarkStar if I'm on leave..."

"The girls are doing well; the Tavosh twins were adopted."

"Oh? The pale girls with short blonde hair and black wings? They did ballet."

My mother nodded. "After learning about you. A nice couple running a tractor and golem repair ship has taken them in. They live over by the barony your VioletBlood runs."

I smiled. "That's good." Maintaining farm equipment was vital work, and in high demand if you were skilled at it.

"Your assistance has been very helpful." Her tail swishing, Clementia took my hand again. "And they'll be delighted to see you."

It was hard to not be embarrassed. It seemed I was doomed to be mobbed by broodlings wherever I went.

"Was it that battle that worried you?"

"It wasn't a battle; I didn't fire a shot."

Clementia waggled a finger. "Daughter, you detonated a bunch of big missiles."

"But no one got hurt!" I did not whine.

"If it's not you risking your life that bothered you..." Clementia observed.

"It bothers you?"

She gave an indulgent little smile that reminded me of when I was very young. "Of course. I worry whenever you deploy and whenever you train." Mother squeezed my hand. "But I'm proud of how you've grown."

I looked down and tried to keep my emotions in check. She was not just being literal. I was still short for my age but I was getting taller and was feeling my fourteen years.

"Tauria, you're not the warmonger the propaganda has made you out to be. I understand that you feel the need to wear a mask, to be a leader for of your girls."

I fidgeted, not sure what to do. I wanted to pull my hand away. I wanted to run off, to fly off. I wanted to climb into her lap and cry. I decided to be stoic. "That's... I'm..."

Her voice was very soft. "I did raise you dear; you're no jingoist. Just consider your Baroness. She's a fine woman but you're not like her. I suppose that's why you also have Miss Shadow, their temperaments are complimentary."

"They are good... companions." I did not like being at a loss for words

Mother Clementia gave me an indulgent look. "They're more than just companions dear."

"No, mother." Intellectually, I had no objections. Years ago LoveBlood had made the case of how an arranged marriage between us would be logical, and given our personalities and interests, would in all likelihood be less than unpleasant. After some initial friction between my Vs, more on VioletBlood's part, Visha had endorsed that plan, after making a place for herself in such a future. Privately, I still felt found some measure of disquiet at the idea of my... social, and not so social, affections being plotted out before me.

But I did not feel strongly enough to object to the whole thing. Maybe if I was being pushed, but Visha took care to rein in LoveBlood whenever she got overly enthusiastic; only occasionally did Victorious have to be literal in that duty.

Thankfully, the waitress had returned bearing out lunches, and I could focus on something else. I was happy to have a reason to undo my veil and pin it to the side.

Mother Clementia had gotten a savory broth, a bowl of some hard cheese, dried fruit and a bit of dried sausage, and a glass of sweet red wine. She did give a small frown at my plate of pastries and coffee.

Her chair creaked as she moved over to sit next to me and hasted the waitress to bring out more broth and another bowl so she could share her "salad".

"Mother, I'm fine."

"I won't have you starving yourself," she said, making sure the second order of broth was before me.

I managed to hold back any pouting as I did picked up the spoon, tail limp.

Giving a satisfied nod, she began eating. "How are your studies going?"

At least the broth was good. "I'm doing well. The classes are interesting."

"Are you making new friends?"

"Mother, I'm a Primus Centurion," I said sternly, without whining. "I'm training Cadets and will soon have squadron command..."I trailed off.

"Dear?"

"It's nothing."

My mother looked down at me.

"Magnus Quirinus, my squadron leader before I went here for the War College?"

"Yes, she seemed like a lovely and competent woman when I met her at your twelve birthday party."

"She just got her promotion to Tribune," I admitted.

"Did you send her a congratulatory letter?"

"Of course," I snorted. "And she'll soon be commanding a Demi-Wing."

Mother Clementia sipped some of her broth then ate some cheese. "And you'll be promoted to Prefect Centurion after your studies here," she noted.

"If things go to plan, in charge of one of Tribune Quirinus's four squadrons," I noted and went back to eating.

"You don't sound too happy."

"I'm just preoccupied with how I'll have to fill out a squadron. That'll be eight more Pilots. I'll also need three Primus Centurions, though I have ideas on two of those slots." I sipped some coffee. "Not to mention training them to be proficient with Polyxo RP, having them up to work as a team and then integrating them all with Quirinus's other Squadrons."

"Oh, is that all that weighs your mind?" She put her arm around me and pulled me into a hug.

As I leaned onto her, I might have started to purr.

"I don't want to burden you with my fears," Mother Clementia said as she squeezed me a bit tighter.

"It's... it's not a burden," I replied, my tail swishing. "I shouldn't have signed up so young."

Clementia gave a little laugh. "I would lie if I said your age was not a part of my fears but I'll still worry even when you're fully grown with broodlings of your own."

"Um, but..." My heart sped up. "That's a long way off."

"Yes, I know even when you're old enough, there's regulations about pregnancy when on active duty. I'm in no rush for grandkids, daughter." There was a tiny bit of gratitude tinged with wistfulness in her voice. Given my mother's vows, I doubted she expected to ever have a daughter, let alone granddaughters.

"There's time..." Sighing, I relaxed into the hug. "I've got time. Tribune Quirinus has her own training, and I have to finish the current set of courses at the War College." It was not enough for a degree, but I could resume my studies and distance learning was always an option. "Not to mention the rest of my Flight and our Ritualista have their own lessons."

"And your lessons at Mima Lumina," Mother Clementia added with a tease.

My tail stilled. "Yes, Mother. Duchess SilverFlight was very... generous in arranging VioletBlood and myself to receive such tutoring."

My mother resumed eating. "Is it that bad to go to a school with girls your own age? Mima Lumina is a very prestigious school."

I tried not to glare. "It's not a full course load, just some private instruction." The idea of spending forty to fifty hours a week in some sort of prissy school for nobles set my teeth on edge. It was more than just a waste of time; the limited amount of interaction was bad enough. At least with my cadets I always had the option to flog them.

"Ah, something like finishing school? I suppose you... is the term 'sword nobles'? I suppose you do need some polishing to get along in high society." Mother Clementia's tone was playfully teasing.

I did not growl, at least certainly not at her.

"Is it that bad? I knew you grit your fangs at the various deportment and attitude lessons when you were a broodling, but you still volunteered to take extra classes."

Exhaling, I calmed myself; that was easier in Mother's presence. "I agree with the utility of the classes, and I am learning from them, but I still have my private complaints that I have to take such classes."

Clementia laughed. "Ah, the Legionary's right to complain?"

"Something like that," I admitted before having more broth.

I felt my mother's curiosity as we both ate. After a couple minutes I decided to explain myself.

"It's the sinking realization that learning how to navigate the social minefields that come from dealing with spoiled teenage girls may very well aide me when dealing with noble intrigue or Legion and Fleet officers."

"I can only speak for the social dynamics of the ecclesiastical world, but you're not wrong."

I frowned. "Sometimes I feel like everyone is a crazy demon, or at least immature, and that everyone is really my age, they just look like adults. That I'm older than I... look." Wincing at my near slipup, I thought of Lady HoofBridge and her views on throwing my Flight at our largest rival as a bit of sabre-rattling.

"I'll confess, daughter, most adults are faking it."

I sighed. "That conclusion has become inescapable."

"You have always been a very sensible and sober young girl," my Mother agreed. She left unstated that that was part of why I was never adopted when I was at the orphanage. Sometimes I wondered what my life would be like if I was adopted by more... conventional parents. If I had been raised by women of more normal jobs and status. I presume I would have been happy in some small town, maybe I'd work as a scrivener or some sort of clerk, but I still would have had my affinity for Zephyr.

And I would have come under pressure to sign up, to do my part. I have been in a situation similar to Visha. I continued to ponder as I ate. Unless I once again found patronage, I would not have been in a cadet program, so I would have signed onto BlackSkyvian service earlier, and I would have had far less time to train.

I could feel my mother's amusement. She rarely pestered me when I was pondering and was happy to enjoy companionable silence. It was a shame I had to wear this headdress, part of me wanted her to brush my hair. But she had a meal to eat too.

The meal ended and I felt some regret, in part because I had to put my half-veil back on but mostly because I had to say goodbye to mother Clementia for the rest of the day.

"We will be having dinner," she promised, giving me a hug after I paid for the lunch.

I nodded.

"You can tag along if you want. It's rather dry fiscal allocations of tithes and endowments, but," she gestured to how I was dressed, "you are qualified to sit in."

My tail flicked. It was a tempting offer. Over the last two years I had learned more about how charitable donations worked under Silvan law and the tax codes that the nobility operated under. Due to our privileged status, our fiscal records were far less private than those of commoners. I could see the arguments in favor of this arrangement. Our tax code was simple in a way that warmed my heart, but it could be circumvented. I could also see it as a means for the Imperatrix to keep a check on powerful factions while also being aware of their resources and assets.

"Thank you for the offer." I bowed my horns. "Normally, I would accept but I have an appointment this afternoon with my Logistics instructor on a project that she thinks can be presented for formal review."

She returned the bow, then with a smile pulled me into another hug. "I'll take notes and we can go over them at dinner."

I smiled and with some reluctance we separated. She went on her way to the cathedral and I started walking down. There was a funicular station opposite that grand hotel.

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I strode down the stone stairs with purpose, only somewhat self-conscious about how I was dressed. Normally, I wore my Legion uniform when out in the city, so it was interesting to see the contrast in how I was treated.

Admittedly, in both cases I was given a respectful diffidence. However, a novitiate Sister of the Order of our Hallowed Lady was given more of the respect of the institution. Whereas, on the other wing, the awards, specialization, and rank of my Legionary uniform, or the hair pins I could wear when out of uniform, had people more agog at my personal achievements. Even moreso when they realized how young I was to be wearing those badges of rank and accomplishment.

A young teenage novitiate Sister was normal. A decorated teenage Volantes Ace and Flight Leader was something else.

I waited for the traffic to thin at the crosswalk. The funicular station was just across the street next to the small glen of a park. Before I could cross, a panicked bellhop ran up to me, her wings akimbo and her tail flailing.

With honey-blonde hair that was pinned up in her pillbox cap, she was dressed as if she were some grand army marshal with more gold braid than a Luxon dress uniform and more frogging than a Trosic admiral. The green uniform managed to be ostentatious and servile.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm so sorry, Sister," the bellhop bowed her head, gasping. Held in her hands was a silver-edged calling card. She paused to gather herself and inhaled. "Are you Primus Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust?" she asked in the tumbling rush of someone who only recently was told something she had to memorize.

"I am. What's this about?'

"I'm sorry!" she repeated with another bow. "The Diyu Continental has been honored to host embassies from both Houses Crocelli and House Vualia while they discuss matters of import."

I glanced at the hotel's grandiose frontage, all that heroic statuary made mundane by their placement overlooking a loading and unloading zone full of various vehicles. "Yes, I noticed the banners."

While not exactly neighbors, both minor Houses were south of House BlackSky across the Gaudia Sea: Crocelli on the western side of Diyu, Vualia across from the eastern end of the continent.

More than the fluttering banners hanging in front of the lobby, there were plenty of people sitting and talking in the little groups, as I had noticed earlier. Not to mention the abundance of security personnel from all three Houses in attendance, plus the private forces of the Continental. One woman with orange hair and sober business-wear caught my eye. She was with a cluster of people out having a smoke.

"One of the attendees begs the indulgence of a moment of your time," the bellhop held out the card by the far corners to make sure we did not inadvertently touch when I took it.

I opened the card and it took effort to not set it aflame, let alone to not shred it with my claws. "Ah..." I read it again and looked up at the banners. They were still just the emerald green over black of House Crocelli and the seafoam and sapphire of House Vualia.

I did not see the banner for House Ziox: a chevron of silver wings over a wheat-gold disk on a red and blue background. I did not want to create a scene; I was already attracting some attention.

My tail straightened. "Please give Company-Kapten Samoth Rodswor my regards, but alas I will not be able to meet with her today." I had no interest in meeting the sister of the War Mistress who had tried to abduct and brainwash me.

"Are you sure about that, Countess?" an orange-haired woman in a sober black jacket, bodice, and grey skirt asked, suddenly at my side. She had magenta skin, neat bangs and a ponytail. Behind her gold-framed glasses her eyes twinkled. At least the librarian had done the courtesy of not actively puffing on her slim cigar as she approached.

"Librarian Evadne," I bowed my horns and then waved the calling card. "Are you sure about this?"

Her tail curling, the bellhop looked between us. "If there's nothing else?" She wanted out of this situation - quite the sensible girl.

"Oh yes, the Countess will deal with the matter personally," Evadne assured.

The hotel staffer took her chance and scurried back to the protection of the hotel.

"I do hope you'll do me this favor," the Librarian brightly said.

I frowned at her. "Unless my memory of Ortov is faulty, wouldn't the favor go the other way?"

Her smile grew. "Don't you want more favors from the Librarius?"

I stared.

"Ah, wise for one so young." She studied her cigar and pouted; the end had gone out. "I can't force you to talk with Samoth."

"Why is she even here? How did she get into the country?"

"House Vualia has hired her as a consultant to evaluate their Ritual Plate Corps. She's part of their delegation at this summit as a military attaché. And as long as she stays on the grounds and comports herself, Kapten Rodswor is entitled to the protections of being part of the Vualian embassy." Evadne shrugged.

"Oh, House Crocelli must love that." My wings twitched as I pinched the bridge of my nose. The woman who trained Diluvian separatist Pilots would be sitting across the negotiating table from House Crocelli.

"Yes, I dare say bringing her was a way to thumb their nose at them," Evadne agreed.

"Haven't she and her mercenary band fought Crocelli's forces directly?" I added. "They've certainly fought ours."

"Yes, Queen Vualia isn't dueling with blunted swords in these negotiations. She's needling both Crocelli and us as the hosting House. There is some elegance as Rodswor does have an expertise and with her status as a sell-sword her actions cannot be, officially, blamed on Ziox." Evadne shrugged elegantly. "As far as we know, she has not done anything aggressive at all while in service to Vualia."

"And you want to bring me into a spat between Minor Houses separated by the Gaudia Sea?" I asked, looking for some way to get out of this diplomatic intrigue.

Laughing, Evadne snapped her fingers and relit her cigar. "Oh no, I don't want you to talk to the younger Rodswor to smooth over some mere trade deal. I want you to figure out why Samoth wants to talk to you."

Frowning, I glanced at the hotel. I did not want to get further into this mess. The Rodswor family had been a problem for me for years. "This is a diplomatic event."

"And you're being invited." The librarian looked me over. "And I suppose your garment helps make you look pious and non-threatening, Sister."

I glared.

"Do you have a sidearm under that dress?"

Confusion grew as I blinked up at her. I did have a few firearms, mostly what I had to purchase as a BlackSkyvian Imperial Legionary. Despite being a Legion Flier we were expected to be proficient in small arms. My Duchess also had a fair number of hunting pieces not to mention the equipment of her non Ritual Plate mercenaries. There was also my maid Reinhild's collection.

I rarely carried a sidearm, and the last time I had to use my Mark 36 battle rifle was a particularly bad night in FOB EmeraldInferno almost a year ago when Diluvian raiders almost snuck through the wire and into the Forward Base.

"Do you want one?" she lightly asked in that amused inquisitiveness that seemed a hallmark of her profession.

"What about security?"

"What about it?" she happily retorted, tail swishing.

"Personally, I'd rather have time to change."

"You look good." The Librarian smiled. "I would appreciate your help in this, but if you have an appointment, please, don't let me detain you."

I look at the sparkling eyes behind those slim glasses. My tail went limp as I sighed. "Fine, I'll do my part."

Grinning, Evadne clapped her hands, turned on her heel, and started walking back to the hotel. I trudged after her.

The interior lobby of the hotel was cool and I was breezed past various guards, security, and overly ornamented servants. Somewhere in the process I lost the Librarian and found myself alone by the reception desk holding the silver-edged card.

There was a gentle gust and the air got a bit more comfortable. Before I could call to the receptionist, the nervous honey-blonde bellhop intercepted me. "Countess? If you'll follow me."

Going through a few more layers of security surrounding the chatting diplomats, I was thankful that I wore the Preserver Order award. A couple checkpoints actually asked to verify my identification and my invitation. It was reassuring that someone could not just dress up like a trainee nun and sneak in. The bellhop led back out to a rear portico.

There were a few people sitting at the tables. More than a few eyes fell upon me, but my attention was at the willowy woman sitting at a table shaded by a poplar tree. I had only seen photos of her from CSR and other intelligence briefings, but it was her.

With confident air, I strode over. She already had a cup on a saucer.

Company-Kapten Samoth Rodswor was a bit duskier than her sister with a light bronze coloration. She had the same hard amber eyes and close-cropped black hair. She looked younger than her late sister, even a bit more youthful than the dossier CSR had on her. Her frosty smile was just slightly warmer than the cold elegance Zaphania had born.

That is until I surprised, killed, and fed upon the War Mistress.

"Countess, or do you prefer Primus Centurion? Please, sit. I don't want to offend, I know how precious noble titles and war-like reputations are to you BlackSkyvians," Samoth flashed her fangs. Old hatred, worn comfortable by time and use, radiated from her. The pilot wore a dark purple jacket with matching slacks and a white shirt. A silver feather, a symbol of House Ziox, was on one lapel with a gold quiver full of arrows denoting her command of a mercenary company on the other. Lavender horns curled out of her brow and her wings were folded back as her tail was curled onto her lap.

I sat and stared at her.

"Taller than I expected, but it has been two years." She tilted her head and sipped some tea. "I sent you a calling card. No doubt it's already at that up-slope mansion of your mother's. She did reward you handsomely for what you did."

"The War Mistress attacked me."

Samoth gave that chill smile. "Yes. I had hoped to maybe talk to you later, but then," she gestured up to the block at a higher elevation where the cathedral and that cafe were, "but then, I saw you. And you were all dressed up for church. Maybe your Lady DarkStar wanted us to meet?"

"If she did, wouldn't we both be in the skies in our armor and not at a diplomatic summit?" I snapped back.

She laughed. "Oh, you almost sound like you believe that. Come Countess, do you actually fool people with this lady warrior thing?"

"Do you? With your righteous vengeance?"

"Oh Countess, you know that the best lies have a kernel of truth to prop them up." She gave a laugh made all the more disturbing for the genuine mirth. "I know you've been making inquiries, using your Mother's connections, maybe some of your personal networks. Good little nobles who want an honorable duel wouldn't do such things."

I folded my hands on the table. "What is it that you want?"

She sipped her tea. "It's not enough that we should meet face to face at least once before we settle this tawdry feud?"

"The failings of your family have little to do with me. Any other Legion Flier would have caused you the same trouble."

There was that laugh again. "Oh, if we're playing up to arrogant stereotypes then perhaps I should bring up my ancestors, or maybe I should have worn a headdress too."

"What do you want?" I repeated.

"I heard you had a spot of trouble with House Elena recently." The woman squared her teacup on the saucer and pushed it to one side.

"I wouldn't say that." House Ziox was ambivalent at best towards House Elena. Mostly it was because the smaller great House had enough wars and rivals and could ill afford to have yet another enemy. House Elena's feelings were more complicated as they were staunch allies of House Luxon, one of Ziox's traditional foes.

"No, you wouldn't," Samoths' tail flicked out of her lap. "Countess, yes for this, it's Countess, I'm a mercenary."

I gave a small smile. Samoth was only a mercenary because that gave House Ziox plausible deniability.

"Don't you get haughty to me, your own mother, the Duchess, is a sell-sword," Samoth spat. "That's why I'm even talking with you." She took out a bronze tuning fork. It had the slightly more angular engravings of Zioxan enchantments, but I recognize the device. Especially, after she struck it on the side of the table. The vibrations were prickly to my horns.

I blinked at the little privacy generator. My Duchess often used such devices... during similar meetings.. "I'm sorry, perhaps you could clarify?"

Amber eyes smoldered at me as she leaned back. "I know you don't trust me, and have no idea how much it galls me to come to you, of all people on Diyu." She flexed her hands and the air at her back became blustery. "But... I am a businesswoman, thanks to you, Countess. And I have something to sell, something your mother, or maybe some of your less savory friends may be very interested in."

I squared my shoulders. So this was Great House politics. "What do you have in mind, Kapten Rodswor?"

End Chapter 19

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

Sorry about the back to back cliffhangers (and 19 being a bit short), but chapter 20 is well underway and shouldn't take too long to finish. And I got some new art to post.