The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

C&C as always is wanted.

Book 2: "More Than a Shadow"
Epilogue: Party Favors


The last day of the 432nd year of the Fourth Epoch proved to be a busy one. Managing the logistics of feeding and entertaining dozens of guests—in addition to the already generous number of people staying at the manor house—was a task that consumed exactly as much time as I allocated for it and then a bit more.

The heavy mug full of mulled cider, at least, washed some of the strain away from the first sip. The spices and cinnamon were charming, and the beverage's warmth and generous allotment of powdered life crystals cut off the evening's chill. Flushed and feeling the spirit of the day, I stood before the windows looking at the grounds beyond the colonnade that connected the manor house to the chapel. The sky lit up with the occasional sparkling burst as the celebrations began all across the county. Some displays were far, launched from manses on distant hills or even across the county line, while others were much closer.

There was, for instance, the celebration which had spread across my own grand floor. Guests reclined on couches, chatted around tables, or otherwise bunched up in conversation or broke away in discreet twos and threes. There were hearths full of blazing fires, sideboards groaning beneath food-laden trays, and no less than half a dozen punch bowls and three full bars distributed strategically across the open portions of my home.

I had instructed Uwe to ensure that every kitsune tending bar would keep an eye out in case anyone got too deep into their cups. If there were any such cases, he was to quietly inform me or one of my mothers who would intervene, lest a tipsy guest embarrass herself.

Thus, I had almost tuned out the lively chatter all around me, and it took a moment to register the quiet presence at my side. Turning, I looked up. Then my gaze went even higher.

Wearing a bespoke charcoal suit with an amber tie, Lares stared out the window, eyes focused on the woods beyond the chapel. Compared to my fluffy pink dress, he looked dashing and powerful. He held a steaming pewter mug in one hand with a stuffed pita that smelled heartily of sausage, garlic, onions, and garum in the other. Both items looked dainty pinched between his massive fingers.

"Countess," the Forest Person's deep voice said as he bowed his craggy head. "Lovely party."

"Thank you, Lares," I smiled up at him. "A far more relaxing event than the last time I had everyone over, wouldn't you say?"

He grunted agreement before finishing the pita in one bite.

"You doing anything of note before your leave is up?" I asked him.

"Some timberwork for the family. Storm knocked a few trees down. A couple lost their crowns; without their upper branches, they'll die anyway. A few are good hardwood so it gave the lads at the mill and the seasoning shed some winter work." Lares's tone was wistful as he sipped from his mug. "And you, Countess?"

"Other than railroad work and social obligations?" I asked.

"Other than that," he agreed.

"I managed to get a bit in with the local Drow and some of the other mushroom farmers," I casually replied, as if cracking that insular nut hadn't been the work of weeks of careful networking. "Nothing firm yet, but I'll be keeping an eye open… just in case there are any farmers and foragers who might benefit from a minor capital investment or two."

"That's a start. To a nice, relaxing business." Lares held out his mug in a toast, low so I could reach

"To quieter times," I clinked my cup to his and looked into my mug before sipping.

"This punch tastes fine... for you?" I asked, raising my voice slightly over a whistling from outside, followed by a small explosion and then a cheer.

"Why wouldn't it?" he asked. "I have more of a liquor tolerance than you do."

"Not that! There's hardly any alcohol in it!" I insisted, indignant on his behalf. I could have taken from the broodling punch bowl in isolation, but watching a soldier sip on near-virgin punch while I was stuck wearing this pink monstrosity of ruffles was an embarrassment too many. "I'm talking about how it's got... demonic ingredients."

"There was hardly any meat in the pita either," Lares observed, presumably as a joke, and then looked into his mug and took a thoughtful sip. "No eyeballs or fingers though in this brew, so that's a nice change of pace."

It must be a joke… There's no way he'd say something like that with such a straight face if it wasn't… No, surely not.

"Not like that!" I pushed past his attempt at humor, almost as poor as I remembered Weiss's had been, so long ago, and persisted. "I mean the energy..."

"Oh... the blood sugar?" Lares vaguely shook his mug again, sloshing the remnants of his punch around like a sommelier. "Yeah, it's a bit sweet. And I don't taste anybody."

"That'd be.. excessively expensive," I murmured, tilting my head up to catch his eye, scanning for tattletale signs of attempted humor, ignoring my curls as they bounced flagrantly around my ears. "Oh, that's what you call it! Yes, the life crystals. Yes, they are quite sweet, aren't they?"

"Good, good…" Lares muttered vaguely. He had a commendable poker face, though the stoicism contrasted against the festive atmosphere might have been another joke in itself. "I'm just happy you're not starving or ravenous. You do have to eat right if you want to grow properly."

"Yes, I am aware, and I eat plenty." I did not pout. "But... There's no side effects for you?"

"It does give a bit of pep in my step," the giant shaggy soldier said, and demonstrated just that with a very graceful little jig.

That got a cheer from the crowd of broodlings standing just outside under the colonnade's roof. Apparently, with the lull in Gibbs's fireworks display, the young demons had gone on the hunt for some new entertainment.

Reinhild opened the door, and a veritable mob of the terrors rushed inside in a swirl of snow and little flapping wings. Positively Lilliputian compared to Lares, the little demons swirled around him and begged him shamelessly for another dance. Among the crowd were a handful of young kits with perked ears and fluffy tails, distinguished by those ears and tails and not by any improvement in their behavior over the broodlings.

All tiny fangs and over-stimulated eyes, the dozen or so broodlings turned their attention from Lares, when he proved shy, to me, still ardent in their demands for a dance. Many clutched soft dolls that bore my likeness, though a few with better taste preferred their uncanny idols in the image of my Vs.

"Countess! Did you see the fireworks? Are the spiders ready? Where's dessert? Are raptors really that fluffy? Why is your dress so big? Will you dance for us? What's DarkStar like? Can you sign my storybook?" The mob's questions overlapped like drum-fire, melting into a single unbroken whine.

I tried to answer to the best of my ability, without embarrassing myself too much. Lares helped; clearly he found the small demons, who were especially so from his perspective, amusing.

After making sure no broodlings were left outside where they could get into trouble, Gibbs stepped inside and bowed her horns. "Ma'am, Lares. Enjoying the display?"

"Quite so. It lacks the bombast of a triumph, but I appreciate the personal touch," Lares said, with surprising sincerity.

"Very good," I said, offering my own acknowledging nod and looking meaningfully at the pyrotechnics crate and the big display piece off to one side.

The young demons stood between us, their gazes swiveling from person to person as we spoke. Tails quivered with barely contained excitement as their attention came to focus on Lares as their little faces stared up. The young kitsune also seemed ready to pounce.

And then the dam burst and the broodlings rushed to Lares and, in a scrambling mass, tried climbing up the large Forest Person's legs like a clowder of rambunctious kittens.

"No claws! Don't ruin his suit!" I hastily shouted, then winced. "I mean, don't climb."

"We're being good!' A broodling cried while the ones still with their feet on the floor pouted and complained. "Yeah, give us a turn!"

"I'm so sorry," I turned to Lares.

"It's okay. I have young siblings. Nieces and nephews too," Lares assured, helping keep one broodling from falling. He paused in thought. "Well, I suppose my sister's no longer so young. She's joining the Forestry Services this spring."

"For Larium County?" I asked. Forestry Services was functionally the main law enforcement and first responders in many provinces' unincorporated regions, at least for day to day purposes. Major investigations were conducted by provincial or imperial authorities.

"If she can," Lares shrugged, broodlings scrambling as his shoulders rose and fell. "Aria's clever enough and will make a good deputy, but we both know that our kind are in very high demand. There will be some fighting among the green-jackets for which fort'll get her."

"She does sound like an asset," I agreed, nodding along, picking up the subtext of his reply. "It seems to me that a family with such a strong tradition of serving the Imperatrix, especially with one son deployed so far away, can at least have their daughter serve closer to home."

"I can't disagree. Those I've talked to in the Forestry Service agree with me but..." Lares carefully trailed off. His implication was obvious: he lacked the political capital, but I, as his noble patron, possessed the sort of access necessary to pull all sorts of levers and strings.

"I'll put in a good word. I do need to keep on good terms with the county sheriff, especially with all the woods being cleared for the railway," I assured him with a smile. Networking and exchanging favors for preferred internal positions was something I understood completely. I'd experience working within such webs across all three of my lives, within corporate, military, and now even courtly spheres. It would be almost inconsequential, so far as favors went. Besides, I liked Lares, and we had a good working relationship, and I could see the value of sister Aria as a deputy in my county.

Lares's eyes widened, doubtless worried about the cost of my favor. "Yes, thank you. I think we can make that work."

Gibbs chuckled. "Oh, we know our Countess isn't that cutthroat."

I had to nod in agreement.

"She's not?" one of the broodlings trying to climb Lares asked. "But the book I read had her cutting all sorts of pirate throats!"

"Was that the one where she blew up the pirate airship?" the kit who managed to cling to Lares's shoulders asked.

"No claws," I automatically said, making sure she wasn't digging into his shoulder.

"It was the other one with sky pirates!" the first broodling replied, ignoring my admonition completely.

"At least they're not biting him," Gibbs muttered, barely concealing her amusement.

"Well... Are you ready to ring in the new year?" I asked her, trying to ignore the news of yet another fanciful tale that was apparently being told about me now.

"I think we'll manage," the head Ritualista said, a bit more dourly than I had expected.

"Any... trouble?" I asked as my eyes glanced down at the broodlings scattered around us. I felt guilty, at my relief, certainly not jealousy, that no one was trying to climb onto my gown. VioletBlood had outdone herself with this silken confection, filled as its bustles and fluffed cavities were for little entertainments for my Zephyr.

"No clawing, biting, or little fires?" Lares asked as he carefully moved an arm to let one of the young Shadow twins climb up to a shoulder in bright-eyed triumph. "I recall once having to use a water can to keep little ones from burning things."

"No, they're very well behaved," Gibbs sighed at the small demons using Lares like a piece of playground equipment as evidence to the contrary.

Other party attendees reached with amusement at the spectacle, especially after I had to shoo out a curious broodling who tried to explore under the hem of my gown. My niece was spooked by the overreaction of my air spirits. While I had maintained poise and dignity, my Zephyr must have been surprised by Talia's over-eager spirits, and lifted both of us up.

But we were airborne for but a moment, and my gown was smoothed back down, and I was holding onto my niece. The hug was fine as we were family, and besides, broodlings were broodlings.

Though this did cause the little terrors to split their attention from using Lares as a diving platform to practice their flying, to asking about my air spirits.

Gibbs slowly shook her head. "Outside, they are quite behaved: staying far enough back, not taking any fireworks, and no playing with fire. Other than getting into people's personal space." She gave the broodlings a stern look. "Because bad girls have to go inside."

"Yes, Miss Gibbs," the girls replied. The six year old twin members of the Shadow brood nodded along from their perches on Lares's shoulders.

"Just remember to keep being good; otherwise we'll have to go with illusions instead of real fireworks," I warned the broodlings. I didn't want to be too much of a killjoy, but I also did not want anyone to get hurt.

The groans and complaints were near universal and caused their cavorting to pause.

"Illusionary fireworks are just as pretty and a skilled caster can even capture the smells and pressures," I reminded the ungrateful lot.

"But that's not real!" Liata, one of my nieces, complained. "Fireworks should be real," she added to universal acclaim.

"Then don't cause Miss Gibbs any problems. Besides, there's plenty of stuff to do tonight," Rita Shadow said. Being a year younger than myself, the black-haired teen had been recruited into babysitting her sisters, though those twins were well-behaved enough.

"Thank you," I nodded to them and sipped more from my mug. "Well, I don't need to distract you from your fun."

"Come on girls, Countess DiamondDust and Lares have plenty of other guests to talk to. Now get some snacks and then I've got some rockets that I think you'll like. If you are very, very good, I will show you how to properly aim and work as a team to safely fire them," Gibbs clapped her hands.

After the broodling scampered out to the nearest refreshment table before gamboling back outside, Lares and I were left with three Shadow girls.

Rita looked to her twin sisters, who had run back to the Forest Person. "Um... Lares is it? Could you watch Lyana and Soraria? That is, if you will permit me some questions, My Lady?" she asked me, her tail curling nervously around her legs.

"Oh?" I asked, noncommittal. She seemed awfully nervous…

"It's about some questions I have for... you, and for my sister, Victorious," Rita said, her tail nervously flicking.

Ah, so that's it, is it?

"I'd be happy to watch your sisters, Miss Shadow," Lares assured as the twins ran up to him. "Go on, Countess."

""Thank you," I nodded to Lares, turning as he led the twins back outside to rejoin the rest of the broodlings.

"I think your sister's over in the drawing room," I told Rita as she followed me deeper into the manor house.

Rita nodded dutifully, but she stated close by my side.

"Are you having a good trip out to Eastern Province?" I asked the younger woman, opting for conversation in the face of her watchful quiet.

"It's been a real adventure," she gushed, a spring of words emerging at first prompting. "I never knew House BlackSky could be so big! The capital was amazing but a little overwhelming."

"You've seen more of the empire than I have!" I laughed, throwing the girl a bone and exhibiting interest. "I'd like to visit Amber Island and the other western provinces."

The presence of a few of Mother Clementia's sisters and a couple of maids in the hallway gave me a break from the small-talk as I exchanged happy greetings with them.

"But you've been offworld, out on the Spine!" Rita countered, apparently not inclined to simply take my polite show of interest at face value. "You've really traveled! Truly traveled, gone well away from home!"

"That was part of..." I frowned as the denarius dropped and I realized why she'd sought me out while I was away from her sister and the rest of her family. "This is about the Legions, isn't it?"

"I'm not bad with Zephyr!" Rita insisted we come to the drawing room. "I can be a VTOL pilot!"

"You're a bit... young," I coughed, finishing lamely.

Visha looked up from the oak table where she was playing dice with her older sister and sister-in-law. "Tauria, that's a bit amusing for you to say it," she said, coming over to give quick hugs to her sister and I.

Tail swishing, Rita gave me a smug smile over Visha's shoulder.

"But that doesn't mean you're still not too young to enlist," Ines told her younger sister as she absently sorted a pile of coins and flicked her braid over her shoulder.

"I just want to prepare for it! I can still make a difference," Rita promised. "Besides, they're going to need more pilots for the new Manta Ray bombers in a couple years!"

I gave a strained smile to the eager young demoness. Strictly speaking, she was correct. A next generation torpedo bomber, the Manta Ray was entering mass production, and those planes would need new pilots. On the other wing, most of those pilots would be pulled from other VTOLs such as the older Hasta bomber.

Indeed, neither fighter nor bomber pilots represented anything but a minority among the pilots. Transport and logistics fliers made up the vast majority of the Ventus specialization in both the Fleet and Legions. If Rita wanted to make a difference for the average hoofslogger, then driving a troop and cargo hauler would have the greatest impact, light on the glory though the specialty admittedly was.

Visha's emotions flicked between pride and wanting to support her little sister, and various types of unease. "There is one issue, Rita," she said, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder.

Rita brushed her short bangs back, and Visha paused at her fidgeting gesture.

"The Imperial Legions don't... really... fly torpedo bombers," Visha gently said. "You could be in the Fleet, if that's what you want, but..."

I could understand the awkwardness of the Shadow sisters. Beyond the normal inter-service rivalry between the Fleet and Legions, their mother, Ema, was particularly fearful of someone near and dear to her being lost in a stricken airship. Consequently, she did not want any of her daughters in the Household Fleet. It was not a rational fear, especially given how often Visha had deployed from Fleet ships, but rationality rarely mattered in matters of anxious worry.

Frankly speaking, from where I stood, what branch a pilot flew from mattered not at all when they got shot down. But I was honest enough to understand that my experiences might have some influence on that view, trumping in some small degree my native cold logic.

"Maybe you can focus on something our Mothers approve of," Ines mused, brightening at the thought. "After all, a few more swimming championships under your belt and you could get a scholarship!"

"What about flight school?" Rita asked, trying and failing to keep the whine out of her tone.

"Have you talked to your mothers?" I asked, double-checking that neither Shadow matriarch was in the room. If I recalled correctly, they were still in the stables watching the mounts saddled and readied.

Wings twitching, Rita looked down at her shoes.

"She has," Ines confirmed.

"There's been some discussion about it." Marcella EmberTalon agreed as the green-haired woman looked to her wife, toying idly with a pair of dice.

"The family business does have a place for you," Ines said, giving Visha a pensive look, but she had stood up to welcome Rita and offer her some food and a hug of her own.

Visha's gaze guiltily flicked between her sisters. If I were any judge of character, I was sure her sisters suspected the guilt was due to Visha having joined the Legions, leaving them for years at a time. But Visha had another secret from her family. We had talked and Visha had decided to tell her mothers, at least, before the Shadow family went back to Amber Island. But for tonight, at least, that secret still lay between them, fresh on Visha's mind and, I was sure, oppressive on her tongue.

VioletBlood had joked that if Visha waited, then someone else from Germania would show up to ruin the moment. Neither of us laughed at LoveBlood's comment, though I may have cracked a smile at the idea of Weiss or Koenig as one of us. The possibility that someone else from there was here, no matter how remote, couldn't be fully discounted.

Rerugen, for example, I could see adapting quite well.

"But maybe we can talk about flight school lessons... when you're older," Visha offered.

Rita pouted.

"There you are!" VioletBlood loudly announced her presence as she and one of my sisters came into the drawing room.

Wearing a scarlet and silver dress that complemented her russet skin, Doctrix Countess RedWing's golden eyes gleamed as she stepped in behind LoveBlood. "Indeed, there you are, little sister."

I nodded to her. "Were you looking for me?"

"Our mother would like a moment of your time." Redwing sipped amber liquor from a crystal glass. "And your lovely fiancee figured you would be here," she said, handing off the glass to the redhead.

I was once more lifted off my feet as the older woman pulled me up into a hug.

"Oh, you look so adorable and delectable!" the university professor gushed as she held me out to inspect my gown. "You picked a very complimentary garment, Baroness,"

"Thank you, my Lady." VioletBlood bowed her horns to my sister before turning to me with her customary cockiness. "If I can't find you, I know our Islander Girl will."

Visha shook her head while Rita pouted, and the other Shadow sisters coughed. The slightly rude comment undercut their amusement at me being put into this undignified position.

The Baroness's tail flicked. "What is the trouble?" the aristocrat asked, genuinely clueless.

Stoically letting myself be returned to the floor, I bit my tongue, but my older sister snorted and idly adjusted my curls.

"I want to be a bomber pilot, Baroness! But that would mean joining the Fleet..." Rita trailed off.

"Oh that's easy," VioletBlood waved it off as she sipped an aperitif from a tiny glass. "Legion Strike RP pilots strap evocation flasks to their hips that are veritable bombs."

Visha shook her head, while Rita looked sad.

"Okay, Ritual Plate's not for you," VioletBlood continued breezily along. "You could get yourself press-ganged, that's a classic shippie tradition. Your family won't blame you if you get tricked into taking the Imperatrix's coin."

"The Household Fleet hasn't done that in decades;" RedWing snorted, clearly amused. "We're not perfidious Alecto."

There were a few chuckles; as residents of Amber Island, the Shadow sisters were familiar with House Alecto's reputation as moderately troublesome allies.

"What does Mother wish to talk about?" I asked my sister, changing the topic back to the maternal summons.

"ArgentShroud just arrived and she bears some correspondence, including letters for you," RedWing said.

"Oh? She was able to make it tonight?" I asked, happy to have more of my family in attendance. As heir and castellan, ArgentShroud did many things to help Mother run the Duchy Argenia.

"Isn't it lovely!" VioletBlood gushed. "The whole family coming together for the new year!"

"Wait... when did she arrive? I should have been on hand to welcom her to the party!" I frowned and stepped out into the hallway.

Reinhild seemingly appeared carrying a small platter of steaming sausages. "Countess?" the kitsune primly asked, the picture of diffident service.

RedWing stepped over to me. "Calm down, Sister. Argent didn't want to make a production out of her arrival, that's it."

I shook my head. Part of being a noble was that you had to grin and bear some level of infringement on your personal life. Sometimes, we didn't have the freedom to avoid becoming the center of a production.

Reinhild's polite smile wasn't quite enough to conceal her nerves. Nobody wanted to step into noble power games if they could avoid it; certainly not someone with as keen a nose and wits as the former scout possessed.

Shaking my head, I waved off her concerns. "Well, I can talk to Mother about all that. Do you know what the letters are about?"

"I can't say," RedWing shrugged, embracing discretion with valor.

"It's no trouble if you want to stay and catch up with your sisters," I assured Visha, who had risen halfway to her feet.

"We'll be sure to reunite well before midnight," VioletBlood promised, stepping up beside me.

After looking at her sisters, Visha nodded and relaxed back into her chair. "Thanks, we'll catch up soon."

Smiling to her, VioletBlood took my arm and pulled me out of the drawing room. "Come, come! I'm curious what news your sister has for us!"

"Us," RedWing gently laughed as we went down the hallway.

We passed through the great halls, which bustled with activity. With Saber's Watch behind us, the drifts of garlands, constellations of shining stars, and decorations had grown less omni-present, but plenty still remained. In another couple weeks, I was sure the manor house would be back to normal.

Then, it would be time for us to leave.

Mother Clementia was bustling around the buffet line, helping the cooking staff keep the warming trays filled and ensuring everyone had enough to eat. She looked up when she saw me from a quiet conversation with a local broodmother, who was helping keep everything organized. Valaria AshBone, her conversational partner, was a widow who had lost her mate in an airship crash to the south over the Gaurdia Sea.

It was good that Mother was helping her keep busy and distracted.

I gave Mother a wave before stepping over. She returned it with a fond smile while AshBone curtsied in greeting. "How's the evening? Any trouble?" I asked.

"Oh, no trouble, my Lady. Thank you for letting my little ones attend," AshBone said, rising back to her full height but still maintaining a slightly diffident air.

"No trouble at all," I assured her. "After all, there's already so many over tonight." I turned to Clementia. "Have you reminded everyone that the kitchens should be damped down at eleven? I want everyone free to witness the new year."

"Of course," Mother agreed, taking my arm and giving me a smile. "Your Duchess does have a suggestion that you may want to consider first, though."

"Oh? About what?"

"A family question," Clementia assured as she hugged me. "Just remember you'll always be my daughter."

I closed my eyes, relishing the emotional connection. Then, I then turned to the other woman.

I needed to clear the board before having this conversation.

"Please excuse that personal moment. Valaria, we'll talk later. My seneschal will need a small staff to maintain the manor when I'm deployed, and I would prefer to hire those in the community," I told the other woman what she wanted to hear, the white lie of charity slipping past my lips. The position would have sufficient remuneration and value, and if the work was not to Valaria's tastes, she would be able to seek a new job bearing a letter of reference from a countess.

Either way, my obligation would be sufficiently discharged.

AshBone bowed her head. It was easier for both of us to accept the polite fiction, even with the kitsune helping. Though most of those would follow me to Mursam, which would leave the manor understaffed. Conveniently, the widow AshBone had plenty of family here in Larium. I had already set a precedent by making a point to hire the butchers, cooks, and extra maids to help with various social functions. Bringing in her clan to fill the gap left by the kitsune only took that precedent a step further.

As I gave AshBone my seneschal's information and wished her a happy New Year, my sister talked with Mother Clementia which resulted, once again, in my gown being put on display while VioletBlood talked up my achievements and graces.

The two older women laughed, even my prospective new employee put a hand over her mouth as VioletBlood nattered on.

Once again, I bore being on display with all the dignity I could muster. By now, the rest of the merrymakers in the hall enjoying the food had turned to watch us.

"My, she is a very mature little one," RedWing smiled.

Mother Clementia's eyes danced with mirth. "We are all very proud of her."

"What else should one expect from an Imperial Heroine?" VioletBlood smirked.

"She has grown into her position. But you're not taking any credit for her noble bearing?" RedWing asked.

"That would be gauche." The Baroness's eyes gleamed as she took my hand. "And the brighter my diamond shines the more I sparkle!"

I let my fiancee pull me into a spin and a dip.

RedWing laughed and then, as we made our polite goodbyes to Clementia, both she and VioletBlood refreshed their drinks. I, with some reluctance, also had another glass of wassail.

We then made our way to the grand foyer and the double stairs. From the ease of her conversation with VioletBlood, it seemed that RedWing was not aware of my... past. It was nice that my Mothers had kept my secret.

Before we could reach the stairs, my pondering was interrupted by a harried pair of kitsune rushing into the foyer, a bit of panic pushing past their professional bearing. At their heels, or perhaps at their fluffy tails, a horde of scampering and screaming broodlings stampeded.

"Spider ride! Raptor time! Time to see the spiders! I want a feather!" they cheered, an excitable mob baying their demands like hounds.

The broodlings, leavened with a handful of kits, flowed round us all with wagging tails and flapping wings. Lares plodded at the end of the mob, making sure none of the little terrors escaped or snuck off. The opportunity to not just see feathered theropods and giant pseudo-arachnids but also ride them was too tempting, though, and all the broodlings seemed too eager to contemplate escape.

Smiling, RedWing watched them pass. "I cannot blame their enthusiasm. Carter's Short-Bristled Megapelma, to use their formal name, are rare and treasured status symbols of the Drow, and even those pack raptors are less common these days than in earlier times." The professor seemed almost wistful.

"As long as it's safe," I stated. Part of me was concerned about any injuries caused to guests of my household.

"Oh you worry too much," VioletBlood sent me a reassuring pulse as we started up the stairs. "They'll be watched in case anyone gets aggressive and starts biting and clawing."

"You're right. There are maids, grooms, and handlers." I nodded, deciding to accept the reassurance, and gathered up my skirts to take the steps without tripping.

"Quite so," VioletBlood smugly said once we reached the top of the stairs. "There's no reason to worry about broodlings hurting those majestic creatures."

I tilted my head. "Pardon?"

"Broodlings do have more exuberance than sense, and most of those are on their second set of baby teeth, which are quite sharp," RedWing agreed.

"Like being nipped by a puppy, poor spiders," VioletBlood shook her head.

I nearly walked into them in shock; we had reached the door to the suite I had given to my Duchess. "I... can't argue with that."

One of the more muscular feline maids opened the door for us before we could knock and let us into a well-appointed sitting room. The furniture was all upholstered in rich leather and polished wood, far more luxurious than the more functional seating and tables waiting for me in my own chambers.

Instead of remaining in the sitting room, though, we were led to a lovely kitchenette with wide windows opening to a terraced balcony. The stone counters were comfortably cluttered with well-thumbed copies of the Journal on Air Combat and other publications, all in neat stacks. Alongside the back issues were the verdant fruits of one of mother's other hobbies; the orchids and fragrant herbs just starting to flower, while the vines climbing up the wall trellis had already put out their heart shaped blooms. A small, temporary greenhouse occupied most of the balcony.

Standing on the slice of balcony not occupied with glass or greenery was Duchess SilverFlight. She was looking out to the grounds below her and, off in the distance, out over the county seat. Fireworks bloomed over Jopecott as the residents closed out the 432nd year of the Fourth Epoch.

A small writing desk stood next to her on the balcony, while one of her more delicate-looking maids waited discreetly in a corner, the image of attentive service.

A woman with the green-eyes, strong chin-line, and narrow nose of our mother sat on one of the balcony's chairs. The lean woman's hair was down, for a change, and it almost seemed incongruous to see Lady Castellan ArgentShroud lounging and at peace, a drink firmly in her hand.

Her eyes fell upon us, "Sisters! So good to see you. Come, come," she welcomed. "We were just having a private moment before joining the party. I do apologize for bringing... news."

Her eyes flicked to the desk, and I saw there was a pile of Mother's correspondence as well as two unopened letters.

The cups we had brought up the stairs were deftly refilled by the waiting maid.

Our Mother lifted her own fluted glass in salute and took a sip of the deep amber liquor within. "I don't think it is all bad… Certainly, this brandy is quite good." She turned back to the county seat. "More importantly, the railroad is progressing on schedule. The logjams have been mitigated. Much thanks to your skillful effort, Baroness VioletBlood."

"Thank you, Your Grace," VioletBlood curtseyed.

"You will be calling me mother soon enough," the Duchess chuckled. "But as for our associate from the Railroad, by summer our Countess will have a railway station in her county seat and a proper one.... So, I dare say that at least one of your missives should not be that bad."

The terrace was large enough to fit all six of us, but even so, I had to maneuver carefully given the massive size of my gown; the accursed bustle alone made me be careful not to bump into the little greenhouse. The things I did for LoveBlood... I was a bit annoyed that while, the others were dressed in elegant and ornamented evening wear, their gowns were nowhere near as... poofy.

Both envelopes bore seals. For the moment, I focused on the one that had an intricate R over a pair of crossed tracks embossed into the crimson wax.

As I reached out to take the letter, Mother reached out to hold my hand for a moment. "No matter your choice, I'll support you in dealing with it."

RedWing had gone to our sister and had a quiet word with ArgentShroud.

I cut the red-trimmed envelope's seal. Inside was a folded letter which, upon opening, revealed a trio of calling cards. I let the obsidian card with its golden R fall to the writing desk untouched. It felt... normal. But despite the lack of any magical signature I could detect, I was as cautious of that card as I was of the one I had received from one of the Imperatrix's Daughters. The other two were plainer affairs and contained actual contact information. One was white with black text bearing a corvid watermark. The other was forest green with a stylized target superimposed over a set of antlers.

Nudging the cards into a pile, I focused on the letter. At first, I thought the machine-precise text came from a typewriter. But then I realized that the neat copperplate did not come from a specialized font-set, but instead was hand-written.

Salutations, Countess.

It was gratifying to work with someone who understands the value, and price, of progress. And you are not one to get into debt incautiously, yes? Congratulations on securing the route for your county; the Railway will be a great boon for Larium.

Great works and momentous meetings lie ahead.

However, if the full and faithful execution of future duties proves too challenging, then do not hesitate to reach out. We have each other's measure, yes? From information to the services of my associates, to the limits of your productive imagination, I can be eminently reasonable.

Ever onward. Ever forward.

-R

Wordlessly, I handed the letter over to my Mother. My Duchess quickly read the short missive and placed the letter back into my hand. "That could be worse."

"I'm not getting in the Lady's debt," I promised grimly, confident in my choice. That track, hah, went nowhere good.

After getting a nod of consent from me, RedWing picked up the letter. "Hopefully, you won't be placed in any situation where she's your only option," the professor said before returning back to me.

"Our sister has other patrons," ArgentShroud countered.

Pressing into the back of my dress, VioletBlood slipped up behind me, leaned forward, and put her chin on my shoulder. "Upside, you could probably hire Miss Crow and Mistress RainsFord without too much worry," the Baroness concluded after reading the letter.

"Both are bonded and certified with several reputable security guilds. With exquisite reputations for discretion and loyalty," Mother remarked.

Of course my Mother would have looked into the Lady's hirelings. And a reputation for loyalty cut both ways, as I know those two were perfectly content to murder people at the Railroad Lady's behest.

As opposed to the brutalization you oversaw? My inner demonic aristocrat purred. Or is your conscience cleared because all the forms of tradition and legal technicalities were observed?

"Hopefully, I won't need to make any deals with her. I will have to keep Alexi informed. As my seneschal, any delays on the railway project will have to be promptly sent to me, or Mother and ArgentShroud if I'm on deployment." I put that letter by the opened envelope and stack of cards and turned to the sealed envelope.

The purple wax bore the intricate falcon over laurel-wreath seal of the Elenese Air Assault and Air Defense Force. This one contained a long letter from General-Lajtant HighTown. The contents were... for lack of a better term... chipper. I did not expect an officer of such renown to devote pages to an almost apologetic gushing about my adventures, garnished with surprisingly friendly overtures. At first, it seemed very un-Elenese, but as I read the letter for a second time, I started noting the seemingly innocent, yet probing, questions.

HighTown would be almost as dangerous at the negotiating table as she was in the sky.

Compared to that perky and pastel minefield, the refreshingly shorter missive from Pukovnik Emilia Armin was straightforward, and I could almost read her own reservations with her new commanding officer.

After reading, and making sure VioletBlood also got a chance to look over the letters, I passed them around. "Their Silvan Latin is good. Not surprising; Armin was quite fluent when we spoke earlier this year."

"The masks like to play up how cultured they are," VioletBlood scoffed. "Of course their words are honeyed."

"Returning the RP faceplates of your lost comrades is quite the bait to any trap," ArgentShroud noted as she sent the letters to Mother. "Will you agree to receive them as guests?"

"I should pass this along to my commanding officer. Quirinus would know how to handle them," I sighed.

"Yes, Artemis is a skilled Tribune," Mother agreed, but there was a caution to her voice. "But this offer was directed at you, Daughter."

Draped over me, VioletBlood easily picked up on my apprehension. No matter how much I tried to calm myself, she knew me too well, and her horns were practically rubbing against mine. "I'm sure my fiancee is not shirking, but we can all agree that she has many duties, and has already been hostess to many notables."

"Such social events are vital for those of our station," the Duchess mildly replied. "You are both very young and have been forced to grow much too fast." Mother finished off her glass in one long gulp. "But that, I suppose, is the curse of this family."

RedWing coughed. "Mother, you're too harsh on yourself."

"We're not going to compare the losses our families have suffered in the Imperatrix's name. Not when the Baroness of Lilla or the last DiamondDust stands before us." SilverFlight held up a hand and gave a respectful bow to VioletBlood and I.

"Daughter, I will not force you to meet with HighTown, but I will recommend that you do. Not just for your unit, but so that you may get the measure of the Ace of the Skies while you are both on the ground."

"Given the Railroad Lady thinks this is a 'momentous meeting', I should take such advice," I admitted, relenting to the inevitable.

"I will give all my advice and what I can to help secure such a meeting," my Duchess promised. "Especially if we have the meeting somewhere neutral. Myr, for example."

I gave a vague nod of agreement; the Andromachin capital was a reasonable place. The smallest Great House was allied with both BlackSky and Elena, making hostile ground for neither party.

"And more secured than our last meeting in Andromache," VioletBlood gently cautioned.

Chuckling, the Duchess of Argenia's eyes hardened. "Oh, most certainty, agreed. We would make proper preparations. And not just getting more support from Imperial authorities."

My tail flicked as her gaze focused on me. Her piercing, possessive attention grew affectionate as more of her emotional output focused on me. It was enough of a clue to indicate what "preparations" she was referring to.

"Adoption? Biological adoption?" I asked.

Nodding, Mother sipped from her glass. "It would give you a measure of further protection, and power," she added, her fangs flashing as she spoke. "I have talked with Sister Clementia and she will agree with your choice in this."

I exhaled. There was logic to Mother's words. Being closer, being changed, by mother would have boons, but it would also come with costs. I immediately went to the logistical one. "Is there even time? I'd have a period of being... younger. I have to return to duty in under a month."

"But you'd be adorable as a broodling," VioletBlood gushed.

Tail curling, I frowned. "Not physically..." My eyes went to Mother, who shook her head with a smile.

And that was the danger. I would be made into her daughter, and SilverFlight and Clementia could shape me as they desired. I would be submitting to their will, totally and completely. It was as much an act of supplication as an Apology. Yes, there were legal protections and my own duties to the Imperatrix could hold my Mothers' hands, but a Duchess had broad powers, especially if she used them deftly.

Mother knowing the truth of my past only reduced my paranoia slightly. Yes, there was no secret to come out, but she could still change me.

That's the point, to be changed. Don't lie to yourself; you want to be a formal, true, daughter. What are you afraid of? It's not losing your humanity; you were born a demon, my inner countess gleefully teased.

"Thank you for the offer," I bowed my horns. "I really appreciate it, but I fear we don't have time for me to be made a broodling then mentally mature back up."

"I understand, and agree. It is not something I would want to rush," my Duchess said as she collected up the correspondence and then went to hug me opposite LoveBlood.

Basking in the contact, I felt that she had accepted my decision and had accepted me.

"Maybe next time we're on leave," VioletBlood offered, still clinging to my shoulder. Somehow, she managed to be able to purr and talk at the same time.

"Just be careful with what you put off, especially in this life," ArgentShroud cautioned.

"But it comes down to priorities. If there's more important things than Mother turning our sister, then she should do that with her limited free time," RedWing countered with a clean logic I could not disagree with.

"You all make good arguments." Smiling, Mother shook her head. "Come, let's go downstairs and rejoin the party at large. Family business can keep for a few more hours. Or at least for the remainder of the year."

After leaving Mother's rooms, we descended the stairs in a stately procession. Holding my arm, VioletBlood preened at being at the head of a stately procession of BlackSkyvian nobility.

My Bloody Baroness was happy to show off. She had not only been engaged to an Imperial Heroine but also had the favor of one of Eastern Province's most powerful aristocrats. The governor had more authority, but her power came from the provincial assembly. And the Duchy of Gauditte to the south by the coast was less powerful than Mother's domain.

As we had to pause to mingle with nearly every step, it took a bit of time to get to the great hall. Though I could hardly begrudge my sisters catching up with their wives and daughters. Especially when we stopped to let Visha rejoin our little group and welcomed her back with mutual hugs.

Flanked by my Vs with my Duchess in front, and sisters behind, we entered the great hall to literal fanfare. Sparing just a momentary glare at Reinhild, I put on a well-practiced smile and waved to guests.

Fortunately, the dramatic moment and any pressure to give a speech was obliterated by the flood of broodlings scrambling into the hall. The young demons streamed past us and went straight to the serving tables.

I was relieved to see that no one was hurt or traumatized; to the contrary, spirits seemed quite high. And given that Reinhild was not stepping up to have a quiet, and private, word with me, I assumed that no one, broodling or livestock, had been injured.

After mingling and getting some food, I met Mother Clementia, complimented her work, and then finally was able to get a word in with Visha.

"Did you get things sorted with your little sister?" I asked as we shared some roast spiced lesser gryphon with vegetables stuffed into pitas.

Visha's tail swished. "I think we've got some ideas for Rita. Flight school was an option, as was a glider club. I also know some VTOL pilots stationed on Amber Island who could talk to her. The question is convincing our parents. But..." she trailed off as she took a bite. "We'll manage, and once I'm gone Ines and Marcella will have to take over."

Feeling her emotional doldrums, I took her hand. "I know what it's like to go onto deployment and leave your family behind."

"We'll all manage," VioletBlood said as she slipped up to us. "I can write too if it helps. Give your sister another experienced voice."

I held my tongue; despite the potential dubiousness of her advice, LoveBlood was trying her best.

"How were things with you and your Duchess?" Visha asked.

"I got a couple letters. The Railway lady and General HighTown," I sighed and explained their contents with a shake of my head.

And then, guilt gnawing at me for the omission, I exhaled. "And Mother floated the idea of adopting me."

Visha's eyes widened. She knew I was legally the Duchess's daughter, which left only one other type of adoption. "She'd turn you?"

I nodded.

"And? Will you?" Putting her hand on mine, she shook her head. "No, how does this make you feel?"

Looking into her eyes, I... hesitantly lowered my barriers. "I don't know."

Time passed as we ate and talked, the issue of our respective families loomed large, even though we didn't avoid the topic. Despite the horrors of a few days ago, last month, earlier this year... and much of this life and my previous ones, in this moment, I had peace. Yes, the tranquility was fleeting; soon, aristocratic skullduggery would resume, and I would return to duty with the Imperial Legions.

But trouble could keep for tomorrow. And I had my Vs, my Mothers, and we had many friends and family.

Stepping to the head of the room, Reinhild rang a silver bell that managed to cut through everyone's conversations. "Noble ladies, citizens, guests, may I have a moment of your time. The new year approaches fast. All who wish to view the fireworks may retire to the back of the household in the portico or solarium."

After we refilled our glasses, VioletBlood took my hand and made sure Visha followed. Directing my voluminous gown like some silken and whalebone cattle-catcher, my fiancee used me to bully her way across the manor.

It was all for naught as a pair of maids in their prim uniforms and fluffy tails had maintained a prime viewing space for the three of us out on the portico.

To not block anyone's view, Lares was sitting on a blanket that had been stretched out on the portico's stone floor. Spotting LoveBlood's antics, he shook his head with an amused smile and was soon nearly buried under a swarm of excited broodlings all scrambling for the best spot to view.

Walking out in the cool night with a long coat, Gibbs strutted about with the bearing of a mistress of ceremonies. A couple of older broodlings were firing off the occasional Congrette Rocket, which burst in sparkles that swam around the night sky like butterflies.

The vast number of swirling Zephyr grew in excitement with all the aerial displays and the anticipation of the crowd. It grew as the head Ritualista took out a pocket watch and, with deliberate steps, made her way to the array of over a dozen three inch mortar tubes that had patiently waited for this moment.

The crowd hushed as Gibbs held the watch in one hand and pressed thumb to forefinger with the other. The seconds passed as she bent down and, with a snap of her fingers, summoned a thin blue flame. She checked to make sure everyone was at a safe distance.

Fire sputtered and sparked as the braided fuse snaking out of the mortar battery began to burn down. Satisfied that it had caught, Gibbs stepped back and began to count down. "Nine, eight, seven..."

Visha was leaning to my right side, pulling me close, my head not quite on her shoulder. On my left, LoveBlood was close by, her emotions expectant.

Others joined in, until the fuse vanished into the bundle of mortars. Silence fell for a beat as the last moments of the waning year stretched out.

And then there was a ripple of explosions as the mortars launched their payloads into the sky. A set of concussions hit my chest, and I had a moment to gasp before the bursting charges went off, painting the sky in arcs of crackling light, spiraling sparkles, arching streaks, and blooming bursts that shifted in colors that dazzled the eyes.

"Happy New Year!" came dozens of voices, as we welcomed the 433rd year of the Fourth Epoch to Eastern Province.

"To another glorious year together," VioletBlood promised me, a burning look in her green eyes. Flickering pyrotechnics cast dancing lights on lavender skin as expectancy turned to intent. Her hand reached up to my face.

My breath caught.

She firmly grasped my chin and as she closed in, my eyes involuntarily closed.

I barely noticed my tail straightening as she kissed me, a warm shiver burrowing through me from where our lips met, then going from the points of my horns to the tips of my toes. Thoughts scattering, I maintained my composure. Strong arms I instinctively identified as Visha's wrapped around me and held me upright as my knees threatened to fail.

Heat sparked and hissed across my skin from the contact as she tucked her chin to my shoulder, murmuring into my ear. I was almost overwhelmed by the full spectrum of everything I was feeling, my horns buzzing with euphoria and my tail curling around hers.

Held between my partners as I was, I could hardly hear the cheering, applause, and clinks of glassware as those around us brought in the new year.

At least 433 would start on a high note.

End Epilogue
End Book 2


And Book 2 "More than a Shadow" is done!
Don't worry Book 3, "Returning What Was Once Lost" will start before the year is out.

Thanks to all of you readers old and new. Little Demons has been a great project and I'm honored by the continued support and engagement for this niche story. To everyone for reading, enjoying, and commenting, thank you all so much.

For all the omakes, crossovers, and art, for all the editing, lore questions theory crafting, thank you all. This story would not have the continued work and have gotten here and not have the quality it does without the help of all of you here and on the LD discord.

I'd like to give special thanks to Ahuva, DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, PonKatt, ScarletFox, and Lisafication for checking and editing this whole work. Specific thanks to Scarlet Fox for epilogue title, Readhead for helping tighten up the interactions and Lisafication for revising the ending kiss to give it more emotional impact.

Book 3 "Returning What Was Once Lost" as 2 draft chapters written and being edited. In other news, the next chapter for Bonding Allure has an outline and is being worked on. And there's also more art for the next book and the like.

Onward and upward!

`The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

C&C as always is wanted.

Book 3 : "Returning What Was Once Lost"
Chapter 1: Fungible Assets Part 1

Volantes Centurion Janice BlackSun: 78th Infantry Legion, Epsilon Wing, Third Squadron, Third Flight


Even after two years spent in the service of the Legions, the view of the titanic sprawling base at Colonia Mursam Castramagnus and the surrounding city remained awe inspiring. Under an overcast sky heavy with summer rain, the rows of massive hangars, towering cranes, giant port facilities, seemingly endless depots and barracks, and the stark white stone of the distant base cathedral stood as silent testimonials to the Imperatrix's might. And that was not even counting the towers of the city itself.

It made me yearn to one day visit Diyu proper, to see the City of Trees itself, perhaps in the course of a Triumph, marching behind a Legate newly crowned in glory; perhaps even after earning an honor name of my own.

433 AR was going to be my year, I just knew it!

Born on Oliviania, one of the Three Sisters colony worlds, I was far from a periphery bumpkin fresh off some outpost way past the Ma-Palma Gap or just in from the far Up Spine frontier. Even so, the largest city back home was a far cry from Mursa Victrix City. The sheer sprawl of the place, both outwards and upwards, made it a bit intimidating… but it also provided an absolute wealth of new sights, all eagerly served up for my scanning eyes.

Which was quite the relief. Looking out the window and watching the airship traffic cutting through the cloud cover above us was almost enough of a distraction for me to forget how nervous I was about my new assignment, and nearly blotted out the lurking presence of the centurion from Legion Counter Intelligence and her slim valise.

Nearly being the key word, since I still couldn't quite get her out of the corner of my eye. Admittedly, she made for a fairly striking sight of her own. She was tall, copper-colored, and damp from the brief cloudburst she'd run through when crossing over to this building. I couldn't call her slovenly by any measure, but the noncom's uniform lacked the crispness and sharp creases of my own Legion blacks. Her long uniform overcoat afforded her some gravitas, hinting at secret dossiers or who knew what other military secrets hidden beneath its sodden folds.

That… might have been pushing it a bit far. Not everybody in Intelligence was a complete spook or high-value courier; likely the only thing under that coat was a half-dry uniform.

And… she was looking at me.

Dammit.

I pushed the bronze-skinned woman's bemused gaze out of my mind. Despite the weightiness of the closed case in her hand, the noncom's presence was... reassuring, in a weird sort of way. She was tangible proof that I belonged here, in this unit.

It was not every day that you got an official assignment to meet your hero, after all, and over a week after getting my routing orders, I was still coming to terms that I was on my way to her door. My transfer paperwork and security processing had passed in a blur, helped along by the surprisingly amiable woman standing next to me.

From deeper in the Volantes Legionary admin offices, a blonde woman strode up to me and my temporary minder.

"Volantes Centurion Janice BlackSun?" she asked in a chipper voice. "You're early. You weren't expected until... Oh, wow! Your horns and your wings! No wonder you're a pilot, that's a very striking color."

A bit of vanity bloomed in my chest, and why not? My horns, wings, and tailfins were glossy with an opalescence that was as appealing as it was rare. That, combined with my Legionary Flier pins, made finding suitable companionship at wine bars quite easy.

Despite the excitement, the new arrival's Zephyr engendered in my own air spirits, this woman was not the blonde I had been dreaming of meeting ever since I had seen my first motion picture. Anxiety and relief mixed within me at the postponement of that momentous meeting. Still, the Legion Flier's air spirits brought my own Zephyr out of the lassitude that the LCI woman's spirits had engendered.

"Oh, and you have a friend?" the blonde pilot asked, her eyes falling on the stiff-winged, shaved-headed form of my... companion.

"Ah, you must be Volantes Centurion Lady Melisande," the security woman greeted the noblewoman as her tail swished in amusement as if at some private joke. Almost as an afterthought, she pulled out a badge from a coat pocket. "I am Pilus Posterior Centurion Nomena Nesico from Legion Counter Intelligence."

The silver disk gleamed and flickered in Nesico's hand with violet embers, a perfect match for the witchfire that sprang to coldly burning life along the engraved bands encircling the Centurion's upright horns. Those were all rather hard elements to fake, and also gave her a considerable degree of protection. LCI had a vital, if unglamorous, job, and though compared to other Imperial spooks they were more like skilled tradeswomen than sinister spies or femme fatales, their professional activities were oftentimes equally dangerous.

Lady Melisande's tail stilled, her blue eyes going from the LCI woman to me. I allowed myself a smile as once again, the noble's eyes seemed almost entranced by my horns. I had polished them and my boots to a near mirror shine.

"Uh, yes," I answered, looking her up and down with a tiny pang of jealousy. I quickly made sure I didn't need to salute. The woman's bright eyes caught mine on their journey, sparkling with mirth. I refused to blush.

I had more than unique coloration going for me in the looks department. With my well-formed wings, the forked fins accentuating my slender tail, and my broad set of horns, I knew that I was no slouch; still, this blonde was tough competition. A couple years my senior, she filled out her Legion blacks far more generously than my more willowy form could ever hope to accomplish, and her tail was muscular and lively.

It was hard to be too covetous of her looks, though, thanks to the blonde's warm smile. Besides, the pins and badges of her uniform denoted her as a fellow Volantes Legionary Flier of 78th Infantry Legion, Epsilon Demi-Wing, Third Squadron; my new unit, her unit.

"Lady Melisande, it's a pleasure to meet you," I said, returning the greeting as the cool Legion Counter Intelligence woman opened her valise with a crisp snap. I tried to conceal my disappointment that I had not been welcomed by the Squadron Commander herself. After all, I was patient. I would continue to be patient. I had been patient throughout the years of hard work, striving ever since I was fourteen towards my goal. I had already gotten myself this far, and all without a noble patron.

Tail swishing with a ghost of amusement, Nesico handed the blonde a folder and letter of introduction. "I think you will find everything is in order. We've been trying to get the new transfers verified in one lot to make it easier to stand-up your Wing."

"Thank you!" The blonde said brightly, accepting the paperwork from the Centurion before turning back to me. "You can call me Milly! Welcome to Three-Three: Third Squadron, Third Flight." The perky blonde's smooth accent didn't sound like she was a Diyu native either. My Zephyr swirled around hers as the gamboling air spirits tested each other.

I tried not to be so self-conscious of the polished aristocrat before me; I could hold my own in a beauty contest, after all, and I wouldn't be cowed on a first impression alone. "Thank you, Me- uh Milly," I coughed. "It's a pleasure to meet you." I must be flustered more than I thought, I already said that…

"The pleasure's all mine." Milly turned to the counter intelligence officer. "And thank you for your diligence, Centurion Nesico. Has our new pilot been briefed in?" she asked again in those lilting tones. She definitely didn't hail from any of the Three Sisters or from Mursam, but she lacked the clipped roughness of the periphery.

The bronze-skinned woman gave a slight incline. "My Lady, Centurion BlackSun has been vetted by LCI, but operational read-in is the purview of my sister organization." Her grim expression betrayed just a hint of a cold smile.

That stilled my tail. In the constellation of BlackSkyvian spooks, Legion Counter-Intelligence was the most approachable, deliberately so as the rumor went, as they were the group the rankers generally had the most contact with. Their remit was running backgrounds, validating security, and ensuring that officers, hoof-sloggers, and shippies had not been compromised via blackmail, turning, or other means. I had some paranoid comrades who muttered darkly about LCI being no better than two-faced Elenese Questors or perfidious Alecto's Shore Patrol, but hoof-sloggers always complained.

They honestly were somewhat personable, enough to show some effort was being made. When compared to the Librarians, the ghosts in Cultural and Strategic Reconnaissance, or the cold-fish code-breakers of Fleet Signals Office, the LCI ladies were positively chummy. And while I knew my new unit was... colorful, having it all but confirmed was another complication..

Glancing down at me, the LCI woman gave me a look of reassurance.

"I am certain some type of briefing will be arranged for all the new pilots; our mutual associates are many things, but sloppy is not one of them," Nesico soberly stated, then saluted fingers to her neck. "Farewell Centurions. Good luck, BlackSun."

With that farewell, she turned on her hooves and then marched back down the hallway, her wings and long coat billowing behind her.

"At least they're being through," Milly mused before her grin settled back into place. "Well, anyway... Welcome, welcome! I am sorry that neither your Flight Leader or Squadron Commander could come with me to welcome you, but they were unavoidably detained with an extended exercise debrief. Lucia sends her regards."

"And the Countess?" I asked with far too much eagerness. I had to resist hiding behind my shining wings in shame, though my crimson-tipped bangs did threaten to cover my eyes.

Milly's eyes flicked to gaze out the window at the various titanic buildings of the sprawling great base. "Oh, she's got an important conference," she assured with a grin, pointedly neglecting to provide any further details.

In a bid to avoid her bait and any further self-inflicted self-humiliation, I grasped for some other topic of conversation. After a second of flailing, I remembered my previous train of thought, about where such an interestingly refined accent could have come.

"Are you from... Lantia or Emuria perhaps?" I ventured; she was certainly lithe enough to be a moon succubus. Olivania had no moon, but one thing you learned in the Imperial Legions was how to adapt to a new posting. Acclimation sickness was just another challenge.

"I am!" Milly's beaming expression was infectious. "You have a good ear. There are a... couple of us in the Squadron," she added, a cloud passing over her wings. Ah, rumor did have it that her mate had died, hence a slot opening for me.

"What was the training exercise?" I asked, searching for a less fraught topic.

"Second and Fourth Squadrons are getting some upgrades," Milly explained as we proceeded down a corridor, passing a few other pilots and Ritualista. "We're doing some small-scale tests to make sure they won't get into too much trouble with their shiny new suits."

"Those are the Sarpedona fliers?" I asked. There was a fair bit of scuttlebutt around this particular Demi-Wing, needing a quarter of their strength replaced after their inaugural mission would do that. In fairness, half those losses had been medical discharges and transfers.

Milly's smile turned brittle for a moment. "Yes, they had taken some of the heavier losses, especially Second Squad. Our Squadron got off light... all things considered." Her voice cracked at that, and I could feel the pain of loss emanate from her

"I'm sorry for your loss," the familiar condolences slipped past my lips. At least the emotional pulses from my horns showed my sincerity. As such things went, my service in the Legions could have been worse, but I was a Polyxo-rated Legionary Flier on a colonial posting. Deployment and losses were inevitable.

Vivacious grin once more plastered across her face, the blonde nodded and started flipping through the paperwork Nesico had handed her. "Thanks, Hun! It's hard, but IronTalon wouldn't want me to be all mopey all the time."

That all but confirmed the rumors that those two were mates. Relationships were common among the hoof-sloggers and shippies. My new Squadron Commander and her fiancees certainly qualified. And I had been more than willing to snare some Fleet Pilots who had been away from home for the first time and found an exotic colonial with her glossy horns and rough manners irresistible.

But then, tail swishing, Milly beat me to the punch. Glancing at my deployment history, the blonde made an excited noise. "Oh you were stationed at New Lentia? What's it like that far Up Spine?"

"Very scenic, but I didn't spend much time there. It was more of a base of operations for us. All our action was further out on the Dimensional Spine," I diplomatically said as my tail flicked. Up Spine? New Lentia's one of the Three Sisters! It has the third largest offworld base in the empire. And it may beat Nida for the number two spot, I tried not to fume.

That wasn't fair. Milly's tone wasn't patronizing; she just didn't know what it was like out there. Not all aristocrats could be as humble as Sister DiamondDust.

It would be something to finally meet a real Imperial Heroine.

Milly held up a placating hand. "I know, the frontier is what it is, but really, Down Spine has, if anything, the more dangerous borders. Like Nida being on edge of the Empty Quarter."

"And our two colonies on the other side of the Ma-Palma Gap face Luxon, practically all alone," I agreed, willing to be mollified by the blonde's clear attempt to be understanding.

"Urk and Bononia, correct? And the smaller one has Aether Amber... or is it pitchblende?" Milly shrugged.

"Yes, Bononia has amber, but Netali's Folly has a bigger mine," I smugly said, then immediately winced. Those two worlds had the bad luck of being on the wrong side of the gap from the rest of the Imperatrix's colonies, and even I was dismissing them relative to my precious Three Sisters worlds.

Crossing the gap required traveling through worlds so hostile that maintaining the teleport beacons and scrying stations were major hardship postings. Majestic was little more than a planetary dustbowl of a way-station, where Palma was a sulfurous sphere of a border world only a Demon Lord could love.

"You've got a fairly current Polyxo too," Milly noted, thankfully changing the subject and flipping back to the first page of my file. "It won't take many upgrades to get it to Squadron spec."

I shook my head, focusing back on my new companion. "I must warn you that only half of my Ritualista transferred with me. Thank DarkStar I kept my chief Ritualista, but the rest wanted to stay with the 53rd Legion at the New Lentia base. They put down roots, had family... You understand."

"That's the story everywhere. We were a bit lucky when we transferred down from Lantia last year." Milly paused at a closed doorway. "You're not alone. While our Squadron is... was down a pilot, we're also short a few Ritualista, not to mention the rest of the Demi-Wing."

"That's always a challenge," I agreed. It was good to hear a noble pilot care about things like Ritualista. So many spoiled brats assumed their suits would just repair themselves.

"Don't worry, we're on priority for staffing," Milly assured, opening the door. "But anyway... Welcome to Third Squadron!"

I had a moment to fret in disquiet at being part of a "priority" unit. The brass horns never gave priority to a unit without intending to make use of their investment.

But I brushed that concern aside for now, too firmly captured by the present as I was swept into my new unit's offices.

The common room was an open space with a series of desks, two offices to either side, and across from the entryway was a set of doors that led out onto a balcony. The room was filled with the scent of wood-polish, paperwork, fine imported coffee, and incense.

To one side of the door was a small, but very well-appointed shrine. I bowed to the marble statue of DarkStar Avenging. As I rose, I saw Milly make the four-pointed star over her chest, focused on the small silver statue at DarkStar's feet of a Legionary Flier standing next to a motorcycle.

So Milly was a member of our Martyred Lady. Which was fine, the stories said the Countess was accepting of all but the most heretical.

Half a dozen pilots looked up from their work at the desks in the main room. The room was bristling with Zephyr. I was no slouch—I came from a Polyxo-equipped multi-role unit in a major base—but the focused skill of the Zephyr in here still impressed me. It was less the raw power and more the control and restraint the still-playful spirits conveyed. They were excited, but held entirely at the behest of their mistress's wills.

The reality of my new posting hit me as I looked around and realized that this was "just" the rank and file pilots, neither the Flight Leaders nor the Countess herself. The Legionary Fliers, and Fleet Pilots I supposed, at New Lentia were not bad. They were perfectly skilled, even. But the BlackSkyvian military had a lot of pilot slots that needed filling. I'd have to work harder than before to keep up, let alone stand out.

A second blonde, this one also too tall and too old to be the Countess, approached. Her hair was a bright platinum, which contrasted splendidly with her deep lavender skin. In one dexterous hand, she carried a well-worn, hand-crafted mug declaring her to be Diyu's Greatest Mother. Next to her came a flint-eyed, flame-haired and grey skinned woman.

A table by the door, opposite the shrine, bore a thick pile of broadsheets. There was the expected "Mursam Messenger" and "Victrix Voice," the pair representing the local publications and presumably a source of information on events both current and local. A two day old copy of "Silvan Herald" was similarly not a surprise, as news straight from the Imperial Capital was always useful, if only by what was omitted from the public narrative. It was interesting that the Countess paid to have some even older copies of "Bovitar Brief" brought up, but it was not surprising. Many of the DiamondDust Denarius Dreadfuls asserted that most of her Squadron did come from Eastern Province, and the eastern circular implied that there was some truth to at least that part of those tawdry novels. Similarly, the Journal on Air Combat and Legionary Letters were expected, but what did surprise me was a few, also travel aged, editions of the New Van Zandt Courier.

The largest publication of that odd and independent world was known for their equally odd and independent investigative reporting. And far from being decorative, the piles of papers and journals looked well-thumbed, and I spotted a few more on many of the desks. One lithe green-haired pilot was reading an edition of the Courier with keen ruby eyes; its front-page splashed with some sort of giant corn-maze with a positively bacchanalian barbecue at the center. Next to her, her pink-haired probable-wingwoman was reading over her shoulder, a face fresh off Diyu's "classically beautiful aristocrat" factory line forming a prissy pout at the article.

Taking in the room, Milly's eyes shone with delight before she turned back to me. "Ah good! Janice, may I have the pleasure of introducing, Centurion Charity BreezeFlower our Flight's senior pilot, and your new wingwoman, and this is Signifier GreyDawn, the Squadron's and Demi-Wing's senior pilot."

Broader of hip and shoulder than Milly, Charity radiated a maternal no-nonsense. Her eyes were far from unkind, but they did not radiate mirth like the periwinkle gaze of my guide. Similarly, Charity's platinum hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and did not show quite the exquisite level of care that the other blonde put into her tresses.

Only the slight widening of her eyes marked her surprise at my own appearance.

GreyDawn's coloration was a mix of plain grays and vibrant flame reds, oranges, and yellows. However, as fitting a Signifier, she carried herself with an almost aloof level of experience. In a combat Squadron, there were many Legionaries that it was wise to stay in their good graces: the chief Ritualista and Flight and Squadron commanders were the obvious ones, as well as any brass-horns one had the misfortune of catching your eye, but the unit's senior-most pilot was at the top of any such list.

"A pleasure," the Signifier said as she took the folder and letter from Milly. If my shining horns and wings made any impression on her, I couldn't feel it. Her amber eyes scanned the pages as her tail swished thoughtfully. "Centurion BlackSun, I see you went from flying from a Sarpedona to a Polyxo?"

The other pilots in the room looked up at that. Their eyes were wide, and I was almost self-conscious at all the attention. Of the trio of very well-heeled clustered at one table, the pink-haired noble gave an almost predatory sneer.

"Yes, Ma'am. After a... challenging mission, I volunteered for the transfer. Multi-role rated pilots are always in demand. Especially, out on a forward deployment posting." While far from a remote posting, New Lentia was the major Up Spine Fleet and Legion depot for the Empire. Legionaries were always being deployed, especially us high-demand Polyxo pilots.

"It never hurts to sharpen your skills, either, or have more equipment options," I added, deliberately downplaying the challenges of training and qualification. A Signifier, especially in a unit like this, would already be well aware of the difficulties.

Despite our lower population and handicaps in training, pilots from the colonies were over represented in the Fleet and Legions, especially among the Ventus VTOL pilots. Part of it was our grit, relative to pampered nobles on Diyu, but it was also that with our current infrastructure, overland travel was more often via bush plane or blimp than train or turnpike.

"We'll see what you think after your familiarization flight with the Countess," the Signifier gave me a predatory smile. "Reserve member New Lentia's Flying Troupe... Maintained multiple suit ratings... Three Sisters girl I see. Why transfer here?"

"Supporting a Legion is good and all. Plenty of work, even when they don't deploy, but Mursam is more central," I said, trying to conceal the scope of my true reasons. Right here among her pilots, my dreams seemed as silly as a broodling stuck in a tree. Besides, everyone knew about the rivalry between the Imperatrix's colonies. This world may be the largest and most powerful, but the Three Sisters could counterbalance mighty Mursam. Unlike more independent minded places like Freehold, Dyrrachium, or even Tarsus, as major colonies, the Three Sisters were economically useful enough that their independent streak couldn't be quietly ignored; on the other wing, said economic power, population, and the number of Senators did give us some say.

"That it is," GreyDawn agreed, though it was clear she did not quite believe my assertions. "Have you just landed? I know the transit shock can be severe and it takes time to fully acclimate. Even a month later, some of the other girls are still walking off the time and season differences from their leave."

"I'm more surprised by it being summer in Februarius. Where I was posted in New Lentia it was late fall," I said with a practiced laugh. Such things were common in the Legions, especially for us colonials. We use a calendar for a place we had never visited, and doesn't line up on any world but Diyu. It's... spring back home on Olivana.

"Don't forget the gravity. Coming back here from Lantia made me all out of sorts," Milly confided in the air of someone naturally graceful. If I were not a fellow Legionary Flier, I would be more jealous of her preternatural poise, but I knew the secret ways that Zephyr could be oh-so-helpful.

"How about some coffee? Amber tea? Alecton biscuits. The Countess makes sure her foxes import the good stuff," GreyDawn offered.

That gesture did more to relieve my fatigue, apprehension, and discombobulation than a week in the finest wine bars and meat markets.

I had made it past the first gate.

"Yes Signifier, I could go for some tea," I coughed. "I also have some contributions to the Squadron liquor stock. It's not much but my family runs a bit of an... artisanal distillery, and they insisted I stock up when I passed through."

This time, when the too-perfectly-poised cluster of nobles started flicking expressions and mean little emotional pulses, it was the pink-haired one who shut down their gossip with a dark look to her compatriots. But the green-haired one could barely conceal that she was staring at my horns. I subtly tilted my head to give her a better look and made a mental note to give her a bottle of the reserve stock.

"Good, good, you can talk with Miss SunShower later," GreyDawn gestured to a prim vulpine maid who seemingly appeared at my side.

I managed not to jolt, though the kitsune's tails were hypnotic.

"Welcome to the Third." The maid gave me a curtsey while handing over a steaming cup of Amber tea; its saucer adorned with small anise and cinnamon biscuits.

I was not sure how the maid managed to do both things. She must have handed me the refreshments first and then given me a curtsey. I should not have been so shocked. Everyone knew the Jungle Fox had kitsune servants.

Fanciful stories in the Dreadfuls wouldn't fool me; I knew any facts would be exaggerated and mythologized. In particular, I very much doubted that the Countess had rescued a pack of kitsune from vile sky pirates thus earning their eternal loyalty, had won them in a high-stakes Faro tournament her cardsharp wingwoman had drawn her into, or the even more ridiculous story that they were a birthday gift the Bloody Baroness had presented her betrothed. But regardless of how Prefect DiamondDust got them, it was known that she had a number of kitsune in her service.

Recovering, I bowed my horns. Thankfully my Zephyr helped keep me from spilling a drop of tea or a single crumb of biscuit, and kept my hands from trembling. "Thank you Miss SunShower, I'm feeling most welcome."

"Well, wait until you meet the rest," GreyDawn remarked as I followed her attention to the others in the room.

Her gaze was not on the lone pilot with dark purple skin and black hair who was still writing a letter. No, her attention was on the three girls from so-called Noble Flight, the Bloody Baroness's girls.

The pink-haired one, still keeping her tight-laced demeanor, looked away with a sniff, her tail flicking. I was a bit shocked to feel a whiff of jealousy coming from her. Didn't nobles have fancy tutors who taught them how to conceal their emotions? I thought to myself.

An almost imperceptible smirk passed GreyDawn's lips. It nicely threaded the line between enough to put the junior flier in her place but not too much to make her lose face. I could learn a lot from her.

Both pilots and nobles were prickly and prideful creatures.

The grey-skinned Signifier nodded to the lone pilot. "This is Octavia of Flight One, Diamond Flight, my wingwoman and –" GreyDawn gave me a knowing look. "A close friend of the Countess."

"Oh that's an exaggeration," Octavia coughed, showing a remarkably bashful demeanor. Though the way her spirits thrummed with the quiet power of a thunderhead demonstrated her credentials and proved she belonged here as much as any other.

"Nonsense, you've been with us before there was even a Squadron. Before Primus Centurion Shadow even," GreyDawn added. Her attention was pointedly not at the table of the baroness's noble pilots, but her barb did hit the two blondes in my new Flight.

And while Octavia's purple eyes flashed with pride at that, neither Milly or Charity seemed to take offense.

"Don't mind her fussing over her letter; Octavia's got reason to be distracted! Her wife just confirmed she's pregnant, and there's a lot to do!" Milly happily explained, earning a mildly chiding look from GreyDawn in the process.

"When's the celebration? Have you set a date for an Immersion? There are some lovely cathedrals on Mursam," I said, eager to add my contribution to a conversation not directly revolving around work. Besides, my questions weren't solely based around trying to ingratiate myself; these were important things to consider! Most sects of the DarkStar Church had a baptismal ritual of some sort for newborns. It was to show that the broodling was immersed in DarkStar's love and protection and the community of the church. In all sects with such a ritual, it marked a major turning point in the lives of both parents and child.

"Well... the party is one of the things I'm having to schedule but..." Octavia coughed. While she had at least a year or two on me, let alone the Countess or her Bloody Baroness, that still felt a bit young for broodlings. One day, I wanted to be in her position, but I still had plenty of time. "I'm not a member of the church. My family is Baha'i."

"My apologies. No offense was intended." I flushed with embarrassment, feeling like a massive, thoughtless colonial idiot who'd just set a dress boot straight into a mud-choked pothole. "I just didn't expect..."

"Oh, no offense was given," Octavia waved me off with a smile. "The Countess isn't one of those commanders. She's quite accepting of other faiths."

"Despite how she can dress sometimes, our Prefect Centurion isn't actually that much of a fanatic," GreyDawn assured. "Just look past her garb and her Polyxo's ornaments."

My eyes went to Milly. The vivacious blonde laughed. "Yes, she's perfectly accepting of myself and Lucia being of Our Martyred Lady. She's even meeting with some people from our sect today."

"I just... I guess I didn't expect that." I shook my head. What was our squadron commander doing today? "I guess I should be relieved."

"It does mean you don't need to pretend to be pious in order to try and curry her favor, Outlander," the pink-haired noble airily said, full lips twitching upwards in self-assurance. "The Countess values competence above all."

"Which is why she spent a whole semester beating the sneer off your face," GreyDawn stated, skewing the girl with ease. "Janice, please meet Lady Centurion Lavish RoseTalon."

"The Countess is a far more demanding mistress than the pulps make her out to be. I do hope you are up to the challenge," Lady RoseTalon sniffed with all the haughtiness of a soloist ballerina, ignoring GreyDawn's remark with aplomb. She didn't even bother to conceal her disdain, wearing it openly upon her imperious features. Watching her, my tail started to twitch in irritation.

"As the pre-eminent fan girl of our Squadron commander, Lavish speaks from experience," GreyDawn mentioned as she flipped through my dossier. "However, Lavish, Centurion BlackSun does have far more combat experience than you do."

"That's... not very surprising," the bashful green-haired noble next to RoseTalon admitted as she flipped to a new page on a thick set of maintenance logs. "We've only had one combat mission."

"Please Pulivia, Harp's World was a very challenging mission! With multiple phases! We're almost aces already, and the Countess was shot down!" RoseTalon snapped back, immediately on the defensive.

"That does sound like an intense mission," I allowed, carefully stilling my tail. That mission did sound like quite the baptism by fire, but they were still green horns. As nobles they likely had private tutors and an extended time as cadets, which gave them more total flight hours, but I had more combat hours than the younger women.

The Signifier nodded to me. "And this is Lady Pulivia VibrantFang," GreyDawn said, gesturing towards the green-haired aristocrat, who gave a surprisingly shy wave accompanied by a warm smile. "And finally we have Baroness SkySpear, the most level-headed of Noble Flight."

SkySpear was a lavender-skinned woman with grey hair that was shaved short on her right side while pulled into a long ponytail on her left. Her horns had a shine to them that was similar to my own, if more subdued. She bowed to GreyDawn before her amber eyes fell onto Pulivia and RoseTalon. "We won't have any problems that Primus Centurion VioletBlood needs to know about, shall we?"

RoseTalon's aristocratic features went into a pout that made her look far younger. "No, Ma'am."

"You'll still get plenty of glory to make your senatorial mother proud," Milly assured in a tone that was all sweetness but, like a baited hook, concealed barbs for the unwary.

Giving a graceful nod, RoseTalon turned to her fellow noble. "I have started to realize the cost of that particular coin, Lady Melisande." The pink-haired woman gave a tiny sigh. "And perhaps the poor exchange with which it spends."

I raised an eyebrow. The Imperial Legions were nowhere near as cliquish and clubby as the Household Fleet, but nobility, especially landed nobility from the Diyu provinces, still had considerable sway. And such glories were regularly used by the great and good—and their spawn—to advance their positions in whatever courtly games or mercantile skullduggery.

DarkStar's blood, our Countess was an Imperial Heroine with a literal opera to her name! Not to mention all the adventure pulps, comics, and toys. My little sister, Lora, had inherited my set of plush pilot dolls, well, almost all of them. I had collected nearly the whole set, but I couldn't bring all of them to deployment. Limited luggage allotment aside, being seen with that many dolls would get me a... reputation.

As a common colonial, I had enough challenges. However, I still had to bring at least one; my chief Ritualista understood the importance of lucky charms, and as rituals went, it was simple enough.

"Centurion BlackSun, if I may ask, have you seen any interesting action during your service?" RoseTalon asked after taking a moment to actually look at my uniform's ribbons, including the ones for valorous service and a unit citation.

I gave a slight shrug. "There was an anti-piracy patrol on the Outworld to Laiotia circuit. The shippies were short handed and we got pulled into filling their ranks."

"Was this when you were in a Sarpedona?" Bafflement marred RoseTalon's elegant face. "A ground-attack RP is about the most ill-suited suit to run combat air patrol."

The other pilots' emotions swirled with murmurs as they all realized just how short-handed things had to have been at those far Up Spine postings.

"It's not... all that bad," Her companion admitted. Lady Pulivia's nutmeg colored skin nicely contrasted with her green hair, with gleaming red eyes drawing the attention of any onlooker. While her lithe figure and delicate features were not quite my preferred fare, she was far more appealing than her wingwoman, who was too perfectly poised, prissy, and pretty. Still, I knew better than to get involved with the affairs of aristocrats.

If Charity was not so maternal, GreyDawn so intimidating, or Octavia so monogamous, they might have had some appeal, but it was looking like good sense would have me cast my wings beyond my new Squadron. Which was fine.

"Not all that bad? For the escort role, all a Sarpedona has going for it is that it's a suit with some level of scrying, comms and weapons, which can at least go faster than any airship. And fast clippers aside, merchant ships are slow to recharge their runes." I shrugged.

I was not familiar with the ins and outs of ship-board systems like that, but I knew that the charge, target, teleport, and cool down cycle Teleport Runes used was expensive and required a lot of maintainers and artificers. Merchant ships were able to save money by having a simpler and more robust system, but one that took longer to cycle, and was less accurate, even with a beacon to lock onto.

"Most of my experience is flying around convoys of merchant freighters, the mid-size independents. Leviathans and fast clippers tend to be able to afford their own protection," I admitted. "It amounted to a lot of waiting and flying in circles. With two days between teleports, any suit can help fill out the patrol schedule, and stand ready to intercept an attacker."

"And for almost all pirates? That's enough," Charity shrugged as she went to her desk and started going over maintenance reports.

Sipping from my cup, I nodded before having a biscuit. I had to keep my tail from swishing when I noticed that the delicate porcelain bore the squadron's seal. "The pulps exaggerate. Most sky pirates fly old tramp-freighters with clapped-out teleport runes and leaky gasbags. Boarding actions are their main tactic."

Octavia brightened, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Oh, so the pulps got that right?"

"Cutthroats with cutlasses and savages with shotguns?" I laughed. "Pretty much. Few commercial airships can afford to arm themselves. Those that do are too tough of a nut to crack. Have you ever flown escort to a Leviathan class? It's breathtaking to see something that large, twice the size of a battleship, flying."

"I've flown close to a Celestial class," GreyDawn noted.

"Yeah, but that's a warship. Leviathans are civilian, and though they might be half a Celestial's displacement, they make those titanic girls look like ballet dancers by comparison. Without the military demand for expediency, the fastest way to cut costs was to trim down the powertrain and Teleport Runes. They're lumbering behemoths that wallow even in calm skies, but they can carry four thousand tons of cargo, and have space for over two RP squadrons."

"Oh someone did her homework! You'll certainly fit right in here," Milly tittered.

"With that much cargo, I bet any Mater Maximus' owner will actually pay to fill out those RP bays," Charity noted dryly.

I nodded. "The big shipping combines are like that. They and those that can afford it will hire mercenaries, at least for the dangerous routes, especially the long ones going from here, or Diyu, and out to the periphery."

"That does make economic sense," RoseTalon said with the surety of only the nobility, nodding gracefully. "Even for the big shippers, a Leviathan is a major outlay. An asset like that must be put to work to pay for her upkeep. If one is lost... well then, the company would have to go crying to the patrons who underwrote such a venture. And even the most wealthy shipping magnate is loath to go hat-in-hand to the true power brokers in the capital."

I blinked at the noble green-horn shrugging off the hypothetical loss of such a fantastically expensive vessel. Most minor colonies would be visited by a Leviathan or another mass freighter a bare handful of times per year. On the periphery, most trade was done by smaller free-traders, passenger liners, and the rare fast clipper.

"Hence why protecting an 'investment' is key. Best to keep the pirates from ever setting hoof on deck. And those shipping magnates use their close relations to get priority escorts," I explained. For independent traders who might go anywhere on the Spine, having your ship flagged at a non-Great House port had advantages. But for most of the bigger shipping combines, there were more benefits to being... closely aligned to a specific Great House.

"But... boarding?" RoseTalon looked incredulous.

"Even if they had one, they're not gonna waste a torpedo, any torpedo, on an airship. Not if they want to loot it or seize it as a prize. Emphasis on "seize". Boarding has to happen eventually," GreyDawn reminded her.

"Some... a rare few do have a handful of Ritual Plate. Either stolen or taken by a deserter pilot. That's the preferred way to threaten compliance into a merchant captain. Shoot across the bow, then buzz the bridge," I explained.

The Senator's daughter still shook her head. "Pirates actually haul up alongside their victims and just fly across?"

"Most will have a junker VTOL or two drop off the initial raiding team. Then they'll get closer." My grin vanished. I looked into my cup. "Once they seize a ship, things get far more... grim."

The room's levity evaporated.

Even the pampered noble greenhorns of this Squadron knew the savageries of those who lived outside the bounds of any law or civilization. For the blue-bloods, being ransomed back was a best case scenario, which meant they would be kept reasonably intact. Such options didn't exist for general deckhands or colonists.

DarkStar's blood, they looked so young. Their wings looked barely fully grown.

Others would be ravaged, shaped, consumed and, for the unlucky... reforged into new crew.

Airships weren't the only things pirates raided; in some ways, they were more dangerous, if potentially richer targets. An isolated community, especially on a minor colony, was far from any help. But that was why the first thing many settlement civil defense militias spent their limited funds on was surplus anti-air weapons. Small arms, even some crew served, were more of a bring-your-own affair, especially if the homesteader was a termed-out legionary.

I closed my eyes. I had no room to talk. The Three Sisters were civilized and had not been hit by raiders since my mother was a broodling, but it was different out on the periphery. Not that these girls knew that. To them, even Mighty Mursam was the frontier.

GreyDawn had produced a flask. My hands shook a bit as I put my cup and saucer down on the edge of a desk and let it find its way into my grasp. I took a swig of surprisingly good fleet gin and gave her a nod in gratitude.

"You can all guess why, despite having suits that weren't fit for purpose, we didn't object to doing our part for the anti-piracy patrols. Besides-" I took another pull from the flask. "Our Sarpedona suits came in mighty handy when the shippies finally found the pirate base on Agra and we were sent in to burn out the entire nest."

I handed the gin back to GreyDawn, who had a discreet nip before hiding it in her tunic. "You got the first of your air-to-air kills on that mission?" the Signifier asked, flipping through the paperwork.

"Their base had some air defenses, and the Sarpedona is effective against other ground attack Ritual Plate trainers or cheap exports like the Alecton Archer." I tried to keep a casual tone.

The punitive raid on Agra, specifically the low-speed, high turning, knife-fight range fur-ball over that cold black sand, convinced me to push to get my multi-role certification.

GreyDawn and Charity exchanged a look as I tried to keep my gleaming tail from going stiff. I might have more experience than the prissy noble green-horns, but compared to the Squadron's senior fliers, I was a rookie. By Her Holy Wounds, I had less time in the Legions than the Countess and her betrothed!

"But after you got your Polyxo, your op-tempo shot up." GreyDawn flipped a page. "I didn't even know about this joint operation with New Van Zandt."

"Those wretches have Ritual Plate?" RoseTalon asked, a mix of shock and offence twisting her classically beautiful features into having some character.

"Their world borders Alecton territory," I shrugged.

"Yes, Forlorn Prospect; we've been there," the noble testily replied.

"Small Spine," I gave an amiable smile with just a bit of fang. "I thought the Sarpedona Squadrons were in high demand; transferring into a Polyxo unit made me realize just how much free time I had."

"Hopefully, we won't burn you out quite so much," a cheerful voice said in an exotic accent, as two more pilots burst into the room. Recognizing the boards and marks on their uniforms, I quickly saluted the new arrivals. "We have returned and have learned much from our debrief! The enchantments our boffins have unleashed, directed by our razor-sharp training, will send many of our enemies to dance with the angels!

Neither were my immediate superior, but these two Primus Centurions were in command of the other two Flights, and were the betrothed of the Countess.

The taller was Primus Centurion Victorious Shadow, a brunette who radiated warmth but with a glimmer of calculation in those blue eyes. Her red wings fluttered, billowed by an impressive set of Zephyr. A delicious smell came from the basket she carried with two arms.

Beside her was the refined form of the Baroness of Lilla Primus Centurion VioletBlood. Luxurious crimson curls framed her face, and her green eyes shone with an intensity and focus that put the other aristocrats in the room to shame. Despite lacking any great height, she stood above them. If this were a ballet troupe instead of a combat Squadron, she would have been one of the principals, a fitting companion for the Countess.

"We have returned in triumph!" the Baroness boldly declared.

"Ma'ams, may I introduce you to Volantes Centurion Janice BlackSun," Milly happily said. "Legion Counter Intel handed her over, but she hasn't gotten her briefing by the other spooks."

Baroness VioletBlood strode up to me with a haughty smirk. Green eyes gleaming, bright she studied me from heel to horn. She stopped just a few inches from me, dominating my personal space. Despite being just hair shorter than me, she managed to loom, casting a deep shadow. More even than the Countess, the Bloody Baroness was the storybook ace aristocratic pilot; a sword-noble brimming with passion, striding with well-earned tail-sure confidence. "Well, BlackSun, I hope you're willing to dive in tail first," she declared, daring me to rise to hers, and the Countess's, standards.

More than her noble subordinates, the redhead seemed painfully young, especially for one of her rank and extensive experience. She should still be a cadet, or maybe a rookie pilot, not an officer well into her third, or even fourth, major deployment! I thought, but despite myself, I was drawn to her manic charisma.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm ready to do my bit," I promised, looking between the two and trying to contain my budding exuberance.

"LoveBlood, don't scare her," Primus Centurion Victorious Shadow chided as she approached from behind the Baroness's shoulder. Centurion Shadow did not even raise her voice, but the mildest of rebukes silenced the room. A head taller than her fellow Prima with broad, deep red and blue wings, she drew, if anything, more quiet diffidence than her more flamboyant fellow Flight Leader.

A fellow commoner, also from outside the core provinces of the Empire, Centurion Shadow was the Countess's right hand woman, second in command of the whole Squadron. Behind her bright smile, I could feel a genuine warmth, but also an adamantine will. The stories might be mostly hot air, but they were right that this tall woman with her bouncingly playful air spirits would do anything for Prefect DiamondDust.

Signifier GreyDawn bowed her horns, and, showing all deference, the senior pilot passed my paperwork over to Primus Shadow.

It was no wonder that the Countess had picked these two to be at her side.

"My, my, this jewel is eager, and quite accomplished. I almost want her for my flight, but my girls do need special attention," VioletBlood commented as she read through my dossier.

Of her subordinates, SkySpear took the comment with stoicism, while Pulivia seemed a bit hurt, and RoseTalon was affronted.

"Come now, the Flight Leader debrief was very productive," VioletBlood smirked. "Soon we'll have a training regimen to put our Sarpedona pilots, and their new kit, through their paces. We had some good ideas for how to better employ our Istarii in simulations."

That got my attention, and not just because the venerable Sarpedona was my old suit.

"Oh really now? Nice to see everyone getting into the spirit of the Countess's training system," GreyDawn purred with the assured confidence only senior pilots could manage. "I suppose this is a test to see how well we can apply her lessons without her."

"She has many duties," Visha mildly shrugged. "Today is the conference's opening ceremonies."

"And she can't miss that, not when there's a special uniform just for her!" VioletBlood's eyes gleamed with triumph. "And I don't want to miss seeing her in the shrine gown."

The most demure of her three nobles, Lady Pulivia, seemed to perk up at that and focused on the forms before her with renewed vigor, delicate fingers moving quickly in her haste to finish.

I couldn't help but relate, bowing my horns to the Bloody Baroness in agreement, though I had no idea what council the Countess was attending. The thought crossed my mind that the strange events at my last posting could have something to do with it, but I dismissed them. The Church didn't have major conclaves like this often; a statue of DarkStar crying would hardly be worth all the trouble assembling one had to entail.

Frankly, much like Pulivia, I was far more interested in the special uniform Baroness VioletBlood mentioned — my tail lashed back and forth at the thought. I wanted to see it. I caught the green-haired pilot's eye as she worked through the forms and smiled in solidarity. She flushed and looked back down. I was pleased to see my fellow pilots were so respectful; no doubt the Countess's pious nature rubbed off on them.

"But if we don't do our part to make sure Second and Fourth Squadrons are in shape, then the Countess will be displeased. At us," VioletBlood added in a dark tone.

"We'll just have to try our best," Victorious said brightly.

"May I ask where Primus Centurion Lucia Hood is?" I kept my tone respectful. It was strange that everyone was here but my commanding officer and her commander.

"She's talking with the Ritualista," VioletBlood smiled, her teeth gleaming. "In fact... Ah, that's not important. Come, come, eat up!" she said, fangs on full display.

"It's not like we came from the meeting empty handed!" Visha then put the basket down onto an open desk in front of us.

With a flourish fit for the stage, she removed the towel atop the basket and undid the foil tops covering a set of large serving trays. Freed from the confines, the delicious, steamy scent of warm, shredded spiced pork filled the room with a deliciously smoky and succulent smell. For lighter fare, a second dish was crowded with grilled and shredded chicken with diced peppers, garlic, and other vegetables. For easy serving in lieu of utensils, there was a tray of fluffy disks of rye naan, still warm and fresh from the oven.

Despite the obvious eye towards a Legionary's working lunch, the quiet maid sidled next to Victorious with a collection of plates and cutlery. It was a bit overwhelming to be given literal silverware and fine porcelain bearing the Countess's heraldry.

The kitsune also gathered up my tea, leaving the biscuits, and then brought out a pitcher of cold posca. Not that I minded; wine vinegar made water more refreshing, but it was more of a common hoof-slogger's drink.

Though the small pouts on some of my more aristocratic fellow fliers showed the truth of that. Something Baroness VioletBlood noted with great and haughty relish. "Come now, girls! A fine meal such as this is a treat in our Imperatrix's Legions!"

"Unless you want Prefect DiamondDust to get it into her head that you've been having things too easy," Octavia noted as she filled a round of naan with some savory pork, deftly maneuvering it like a pita to contain both meat and dripping grease.

That quieted the room as everyone's tails stilled. VioletBlood's green eyes kept their haughty gleam, but even she coughed. "Yes, well, we do need to keep our edge." She turned to me and showed her fangs. "During morning PT… Just remember that you asked to be here, BlackSun."

"How'd you know that?" I asked, not quite keeping the squawk out of my voice. I had traded a lot of favors, and bottles of family brew, to get this assignment. Though not as much as I thought I would have to. At first I thought it was because I was simply that good of a pilot. Unlike many of these girls who probably had their rich mothers buy them flight lessons and maybe even their own suits, I, a mere colonial commoner, lacked any such advantages and had still managed to get into an advanced multi-role suit this early in my first term.

Now I was wondering if I got this position due entirely to skill or luck, and not that there was something else going on.

"Of course any pilot of note would want to serve with an Imperial Heroine of such renown!" VioletBlood lifted her hand and laughed.

Relief flowed through me. She was right.

"But the training will be tough," Victorious cautioned. "You won't even get light duty for your acclimation period."

"That's a bit rough, isn't it?" Milly shook her head sympathetically, eyes fixed on mine. "I'm still getting used to being back on Mursam myself. You must be reeling!"

"Not to worry, I was no Colonial Air Corps," I assured as I helped myself to some lunch. It wasn't the CAC's fault; most of their fliers were willing enough, but the budget wasn't there for as much training or equipment as the Fleet or Legions could give their pilots. "As I was telling the others before you came in, Ma'am, my previous unit regularly deployed on new worlds, each with different day-lengths, seasons, gravities, and standard pressures."

Most colonies, at least ones of real note, maintained their own local forces, mostly a militia or reserves. They were far less well funded, and far more competitive for the far fewer Ritual Plate slots. This was especially true as militia garrison troops would stay home. But if I stayed on the Three Sisters, I would never get the chance to meet the Countess.

"Centurion BlackSun, I mean no offense. While it is clear that you are a pilot of skill and experience..." RoseTalon paused as she made a small meal from the contents of the trays. "You may not be aware of the intensity of our Countess's methods. She treats combat as a lethal enterprise and demands total dedication and teamwork. Not only for our sake, or the other Squadrons, but for the poor bloody hoof-sloggers."

I was conflicted as I ate the quite delicious meal. On the one wing, it was good to hear such sanity from a too-haughty, too-pretty noble brat, but on the other wing, I wondered how many vinewood rods the Countess had to have broken to get such obedience. Tail twitching, my cheeks flushed as I bit into a particularly flavourful chunk of meat, and I hurriedly drank from my glass to cool down.

Holding a similar, simple glass of posca as if it were the finest fluted crystal, VioletBlood slipped next to me. "Eat up, but don't have too much. Lucia has heard of your arrival and wants to inspect your suit."

I swallowed. "With me in it, Ma'am?"

Green eyes sparkled. "Quite so. I can respect a Primus wanting to personally evaluate the new member to her Flight."

"I'd be happy to go down right now," I nodded to the door, pushing down the nerves her words caused.

"You have time to grab a bite. Then you can go." VioletBlood held up a hand. "Also, we don't have many former Sarpedona pilots. She'll want to pick your brain about this new Sarpedona block upgrade."

"Imperial Blimp and Freight has a new block update?" I asked, calming. This was familiar ground. "What did they change, Ma'am?"

"You can ask Lucia after you eat," VioletBlood waved away. "On the balance, I'd say the new changes are probably for the best... but they still pose a risk to pilots and will continue to do so until everybody refamiliarizes. But she'll want to take your measure as well, if you gather my meaning."

"Simulator or actual flight?" I asked, my heartbeat rising as my gaze drifted to the window. Not that a little rain would keep a real Legionary Flier out of the sky, especially given the rumors about how this unit trained. Would I have to hold my own in a duel, or some other combat test? Such things were irregular, but an Imperial Heroine got a lot of slack on how she ran her unit.

"Simulator. Alas, you'll have to wait until later to take to the air. Maybe you can do that without the Countess." Her grin grew. "But if you impress Lucia, I know the Countess will want to get your measure herself."

"Yes Ma'am!" My tail went still and straight at that. I was, so close.

"Now enjoy your meal and I'll have one of my pilots take you down to RP maintenance bay," VioletBlood offered before turning and giving her subordinates an imperious look. "Pulivia, are you doing anything?"

The green-haired noble's eyes widened. "I was interested in going to the cathedral once I finished this paperwork and catching some of the opening ceremonies."

"I can't fault you for wanting the same thing as I do," VioletBlood huffed, "and the tram ride over there is long enough as it is. Fine, Lavish, you can go help her."

The prim senator's daughter kept in a sigh, but nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Ma'am, if it's no trouble, I can show her the way. I do need to catch up with Lucia, and that way you can all get to the cathedral before it's too late," Milly offered.

"Fine, fine," VioletBlood waved in agreement, seemingly to Victorious's amusement.

"Thank you for helping, I won't keep you long," I bowed my horns to Milly as I worked to finish my meal, thankful that I had not overstuffed the pita with filling. Even in a simulator, excessive maneuvers on a full stomach were not worth the risk.

Not on a day like today.

End Chapter 1

Happy Sabers Watch! And welcome to Book 3 "Returning What Was Once Lost"

Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, PonKatt, ScarletFox, and Lisafication for checking and editing this whole work. Specific thanks to Lisafication and Readhead for helping refine Janice's voice.

If you'll bear with me, there's one more chapter of the new pilot's perspective as she gets pulled deeper into Legion politics and ch3 (which is written) will go back to Tauria.

Chapters 2 and 3 "Returning What Was Once Lost" are written and being edited. I hope to post ch 2 around New Years. In other news, the next chapter for Bonding Allure is being worked on.

If you want more Diyu Stories Ellf has a Dresden Files peggy sue fic called Time Slip that is quite good. And finally there will be more art posted over the holiday season