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

[DeusFerreus]

Though the sequence and frilly decolletage were a bit much

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"sequins". Also missing punctuation at the end of this sentence.

I smiled at my fiancee. I always loved it when she spoke my language. "Right, more than any other holding, Portage gives space for Andromache to place assets and trade distance and time. It's why they paid Andromache to transport naval assets out here."

It was a bit amusing to think of Leviathan class super-heavy freighter airships transporting small seagoing ships in their entirety. Even some larger ones too, in four thousand ton sections to be assembled on-location. Comedic though the image was, wet navy ships undeniably had greater firepower, damage control capability, and power capacity per ton and cubic foot.

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I think you mean "It's why they paid BlackSky/us to transport naval assets out here.". Or maybe "It's why we got paid by Andromache to transport their naval assets out here."

 

[Sunshine Temple]

..... Misunderstanding field.

That's even more powerful than ever before!

And dammed funny, too.

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It seemed like a good place to have it hit Tauria. As it maximized the effect and cultural misunderstanding.

As Tauria is trying her best, but... she is an overachiever

"sequins". Also missing punctuation at the end of this sentence.

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ooh whoopsie. updated.

I think you mean "It's why they paid BlackSky/us to transport naval assets out here.". Or maybe "It's why we got paid by Andromache to transport their naval assets out here."

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Ahhh, the typo is that they paid Alecto to transport wet-navy assets. I'll fix that.

Thanks for the corrections!

 

[RogueInquisitor]

That was certainly stressful. I wonder what sort of response Andromache would have made if things went sideways?

 

[Sunshine Temple]

That was certainly stressful. I wonder what sort of response Andromache would have made if things went sideways?

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Excellent I wanted to convey the stress and tension. Well... Andromache did have warships in position, though mostly on the smaller end, but still bigger than whatever Elena could bring. Though as Andromache likes to keep good relations with all of the "big three" Great Houses, they would prefer not to have it go that way.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

In news, there are drafts of chapters 4 and 5 written and being edited. Chapter 6 has one scene left. There's also a Legion ground vehicle (and VTOL) update that I also plan to work on. The cad models for those are completed.

I hope to post chapter 4 by the end of the month.

Thanks to everyone for their support and interest and help in this story. It means a lot to me that you are enjoying this crazy tale and that I can share this wild world and its characters with you.

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First we have Adjustments by Lexi-Kimble
This is another adaptation of the moment in chapter 2 where Tauria has the privilege of wearing the "living shrine" vestments. In this Tauria imagines having her mother Clementia fuss over her

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Second we have Her Belle of the Ball by PlayerError404

Where Milly is showing off another costume she got for her dear friend Lucia

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Next we have Discussions by Lexi-Kimble

With Pukovnik Emilia Armin talking things over with her superior General-Lajtant HighTown

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Perfect Demon by DP

Once again Centurion Jancie BlackStar is pleased as punch to be in a unit with her hero Countess DiamondDust

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In the Sky by Lexi-Kimble

Left is Pukovnik Emilia Armin in her Volos high-veiled air superiority suit and General HighTown in her Kiwi-Zemlja Industries Perun strike RP

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The Overlook by PlayerError404

A noir style piece that has Tauria overlooking a denser part of Silvana while waiting for her mother, Duchess SivlerFlight to arrive.

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Renewed Diplomacy by Lexi-Kimble

Where HighTown is getting a bit too familiar in her meeting with Tauria.

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And finally to close things out Sleepy Succubae by Scitty

Tauria and her Vs have had a long day and are enjoying a nice nap.

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[VxCxL]

Very nice and cute art!

 

[RogueInquisitor]

Where Milly is showing off another costume she got for her dear friend Lucia

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And Lucia seems less than thrilled. Perhaps she's worried about navigating those stairs?

 

[Sunshine Temple]

Very nice and cute art!

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Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.

And Lucia seems less than thrilled. Perhaps she's worried about navigating those stairs?

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Stairs are hard when your dress is wider than the steps and you can't see your feet. Also, she's spent a long time dealing with Milly's shenanigans

 

[Sunshine Temple]

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.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

C&C as always is wanted.

Book 3 : "Returning What Was Once Lost"
Chapter 4: Ritual Service

Sipping my coffee, I looked out the windows of the Tarantula Hawk's forward ventral observation post. Below was the main airfield of New Brigantium, Freehold's largest city. The city center was marked by an almost bastion-like collection of drum-shaped buildings, all made from darkly colored stone. I wondered if the earth spirits were unusually strong here to allow such generous use of geomancy in a single district. Despite standing at most twenty stories tall, with a notable exception, they dominated the rest of the sprawling and disorganized outskirts spreading out on either side of the wide, sluggish river that divided the city.

One dark grey building stood out among the thicket of spirit-cast buildings. Proudly sculpted in Third Epoch Revival style, the cathedral dedicated to the Order of Our Revered Paragon made it clear which branch of the Church of DarkStar dominated in Freehold. I had my issues with the third major sect of my faith, but they were only doctrinal and minor, the usual grist of sectarian argument. The Paragoners kept to the core pillars of the Church, at least, unlike some of the more fringe and outright heretical cults out here on the periphery.

I sighed, tail flicking with momentary discontent. When did I start caring so much about sectarian schisms and heresiarchs with their petite followings? Perhaps corresponding with Maaria is rubbing some of her fanatical fervor off on me

Regardless, we need to make nice with the locals

A pair of shippies were quietly talking with Flight Ops and the bridge, exchanging confirmations of various elements in our airspace while we circled the city, waiting for permission to begin our descent. I was just happy that my Squadron had not gotten the assignment to escort the Tarantula Hawk as we came in for a landing.

The core of the airfield was the small but functional air station nestled at the heart of a warren of paved runways, cargo handling facilities, and hangars. Surrounding that core was a sprawl of fields, landing strips, and cargo facilities butting up against the coast, complete with a small number of ramps and docks for seaplane transit. Proximity, and a single-tracked rail, allowed for the quick and economical transport of goods to the seaport and the waiting blue-sea haulers in their berths.

With the help of one of the scopes mounted before the windows, I studied the air traffic. The intra-atmospheric traffic consisted primarily of rugged, simple bush planes, leavened by a few transports, and a bevy of actual blimps for local travel. Of the Spinal travelers, half a dozen merchantmen were in various states of landing, unloading, or, in the case of the TV Rumrunner, squatting in the city's orbital, waiting to charge her Runes and leave. A pair of fast, sleek clippers, notable for the rows of windows down their hull, were docked near the passenger terminal.

Finally, dominating the northern fields and the rest of the air port was a single tri-hulled Leviathan class, the ULV Decadent Eclipse. Nearly half a mile long, the massive freighter dwarfed everything around it. At fully thirty stories tall, the Eclipse's bulk loomed over New Brigantium's downtown core. On either flank, hundreds of freight containers were being loaded and off-loaded in a bustle of activity, with cranes plucking steel crates from flatbed train cars conveniently trundled up on tracks laid close enough to nearly touch the freighter's outer skin with their own iron-grid frames. An army of stevedores, including flying overseers and trundling cargo golems, bustled around the ship like a swarm of ants around the carcass of a beached whale, all working tirelessly to keep the monumental undertaking in order.

"Colony's getting a big delivery," Centurion BlackStar quietly noted. She had spent time running escort on freighters Up Spine. "I wonder what the locals will fill the hull with. Freehold does business in refined rare metals, right?"

"I believe so. I am surprised it's all normal cargo crates though… A big ship like that could transport oversized cargo the size of buildings," VioletBlood said in a hushed voice as well. Unstated was that even a beast like a Leviathan would run out of weight capacity before it ran out of volume.

GreyDawn nodded in agreement, silently watching the ant-swarm far, far below.

"I guess the Freeholders didn't order any frigates or train engines. No city buses either," I joked, also keeping my tone down. We were allowed here in the observation post on the sufferance of the shippies manning this post, with a few strategically traded favors on the side to grease the wheels. Distracting them while the airship was landing would be a good way to burn any future favors, and was impolite besides.

"Maybe a train's firebox? A whole bus would be wasteful when even a place like this can make most of the bus. They would only need the engine and motors be shipped in," VioletBlood pondered as she leaned towards a window, then pulled back so the observer shippies could still keep a good view. "Maybe next month? This close to Mursam, they get visited maybe once a month, no?"

"If that, Ma'am. More like every other. I'm more surprised at having two fast liners just on the ground," said BlackStar with a small frown. As she looked between the FMV Joyous Broodling and the FMV Little Cricket. "I know Outbound Flight has a shuttle service to and from Mursam but that uses slower airships. The only fast clipper service to Freehold is the Local Loop."

The Local Loop was a play on the Grand Loop, the Alecton Royal Airways Company's most famous offering. Served by a dedicated squadron of fast clippers, the Grand Loop was a prestige route that served as the setting for endless pulps featuring intrigue, romance, and murder. Taking over three weeks to circumnavigate Diyu, the route additionally passed through the biggest colony worlds of eight of the nine Great Houses. Trosic territory was avoided due to the eternal rivalry between those two powers. Though when going through Harp's World, the Royal Airways Company made sure to use only Alecton beacons, for safety of course, in a carefully calculated snub of House Ziox.

Far less ambitious, the Local Loop was a circuit that included Mursam, the Three Sisters, and the minor colonies of Radov, Freehold, and Outworld. It was by no means Outbound Flight's only route, but it was a popular one that covered the core of the Empire's colonial holdings. With their expensive Teleport Runes, a clipper-hulled liner could complete the Local Loop every ten days. Provided there were no maintenance faults.

I inspected the liners, which, despite being roughly as large as the Tarantula Hawk, looked like miniscule orange and silver hulled pilot fish in the shadow of the Leviathan. "Looks like the Clumsy Broodling is being loaded and fueled but the Little Cricket is definitely under repair. See how the portside tail fin has been removed. Probably explains why the second one is here."

"Good eye, Ma'am," Janice agreed, her tone carefully modulated for professionalism, at least in her hushed tones. "Part of the aft power assembly has also been removed. Expensive."

"The longer they stay idle, the more money Outbound Flight loses." I sipped some coffee. "May have to get a crew from Imperial Blimp and Freight out here if the locals can't handle it. Worst case, they'll have to tow the whole thing back to Mursam, but renting an airship that large..."

At least Freehold was just one jump from Mursam. With barely half a million people on the whole planet it was still a minor colony, but hardly the rough and tumble frontier world that many liked to imagine.

"The stockyards look in good repair and the boats tying up the docks aren't horrible tubs, so I suppose they must handle a fair bit of trade," VioletBlood noted as she looked to the eastern shore. She shrugged dismissively. "Almost impressive, for a backwater."

I gave VioletBlood a pointed look. "I do hope you didn't just call Freehold, settled and inhabited by our own fellow citizens, backwards. It's not just rude but ill-advised to antagonize the locals. We shall be working closely with the Paragon's Order Militant in the future, and I would hate for our relationship with our friends in The Church to sour because we were… impolite."

VioletBlood didn't really need me to be that heavy-handed; she may have her pride, but she wasn't a fool, and I trusted her to manage most matters of diplomacy with suitable grace. However, I did need her to send the right message down to the lower ranks, the girls who I didn't trust to have a firm grasp on their tongues.


"Of course not, Ma'am," LoveBlood agreed, speaking for all my subordinates. The compartment's relative quiet also allowed her to save face. "What I mean is that I have seen worse colonies."

"I suppose it's nice, b-but it's no Three Sisters," Janice BlackStar coughed, still a bit of awe in her voice when she looked at me. "That's the problem though, I guess. We came here from Mursam, but Freehold only connects further out to Radov."

"And if one wanted to go from Mursam to Radov, one could simply go to Olivania," I agreed, looking over to see the Spider Wolf matching our course as we pulled out of the holding circle. Air Control had finally cleared us for our landing pads, apparently.

"And Olivania is more populous, industrialized, and has more beacons and ports than Freehold," Janice bragged pridefully, then winced at her volume and put a hand over her mouth.

"More of a bypassed world than a backwater. And the Freeholders like it that way," GreyDawn countered, finally speaking. She then sipped from her own mug. "Not that they can get all that they want. The reality of being a world surrounded by BlackSkyvian colonies means they can't be truly independent."

I shrugged. "Being an autonomous province with constituent territories that all send senators to the Curia isn't a bad deal."

Both GreyDawn and Janice looked a bit skeptical, but neither really disagreed.

"Independence." VioletBlood gazed down at the city beneath us as it slowly started to grow. "It is hard to be a New Van Zandt when you can't sit outside and play three great powers of each other. Freehold does have the will and all the funds that come from being an almost-freeport to make themselves a tough little nut to crack, though. They've invested quite a bit in that little air station of theirs, see?"

I nodded, thanking VioletBlood for her observation; evaluating Freehold's local forces was part of why we were here.

"It's all relative; New Van Zandt is five, no four, jumps away," GreyDawn said, counting on her free hand. "Places like Redemption, Varun, Mard, Crossroads, and even Harp's World are even further."

All of us, save BlackStar, shivered at that. As a balkanized mess, Harp's World had plenty of free cities that offered port services with no questions asked, so long as your ship wasn't seized by the Great House patrons of said city.

"Regardless, we'll be interfacing with their Colonial Air Corps, the Paragon's Order Militant, and the Freehold Militia Rangers," I reminded them, making sure to keep my voice low.

The hum from the Tarantula Hawk's propulsion pods had changed in tone as the airship's pitch changed. Our descent was now in earnest and I could just make out the glint of a couple of First Squadron's patrolling Ritual Plate.

"Mostly the first two," I said, continuing my explanation, "but we'll likely be helping train the Rangers in calling down fire support from a bunch of Sisters in Ritual Plate."

"Something we have experience in," VioletBlood grinned, an eager gleam in her eye. I could almost see some grand vision of hers sweeping her off her feet, "Why, we could have a fine time showing them the currents of how to be a proper-!"

I silenced her with a finger. My fiancee looked at me, surprised, but I just tipped my horns towards the bridge.

New Bringantium was gaining in size and detail, and now it filled the observation window. As the ship began its final approach, the dull chatter of the crew grew into a low rumble that nearly matched the hum of the engine pods. I could tell that we were falling into the moment where the bridge needed absolute focus, and not a lost gaggle of gossiping pilots distracting them.

The Wolf Spider had settled into our port side. With half the beam-width of the Tarantula Hawk, the destroyer-sized vessel could pass as a conventional Bayonet class Torpedo Bomber tender. As far as most of Freehold knew, we were simply a pair of normal Fourth Fleet vessels.

The city had grown, becoming larger and more detailed until the bulk of the hull above us blocked out the central core as ground crew moved into position with vehicles and cables. The shippies continued their calm, professional dialog. Short of combat or bad weather, landing was one of the most dangerous things an airship could do.

As the ships continued to descend, there was a rumbling noise towards the aft as both our ship and the Wolf Spider retracted their ventral tail fins. There was another, much closer rumble, as one of the immense forward landing gear caissons lowered. The shippies dutifully confirmed everything had properly moved.

As the ground shot up towards us, the ship's propulsion pods rotated and with a final burst of thrust canceled the ship's velocity. Ballast and trim systems adjusted to negative net lift, and the Tarantula Hawk settled onto the concrete apron as cables were secured onto bow and aft, port and starboard.

We had arrived on Freehold and the start of another year of service.

+++++++

One advantage of training on a minor colony was how comparatively easy it was to close off a large amount of airspace. Exercises could even be conducted almost adjacent to New Brigantium, provided local air traffic was diverted and we stayed well away from the main beacon's arrival zone.

Later, exercises would have to be moved down to Freehold's more sparsely-populated southern hemisphere, but for now we could train and come back to warm barracks bunks provided by our hosts and even dine in the city. I had spent more than enough years in the military and nights in the racks mockingly called standard issue bunks to savor the comforts of civilian living while they were available.

I stretched my wings as I checked my Squadron's positioning. It had been an almost relaxing week of evaluation flights with the Colonial Air Corps. The local Paragon Order's Militant Fliers, however...

"Diamond Actual, this is Silver Actual. Requesting a comms and data feed check," a calm voice cut in over the command channel. From her tone, one hardly got the impression that Mother Superior Humility HolyVeil was an absolute fanatic, and also the commander of Our Revered Paragon's Militant Order's Beloved Discipline Demi-Wing.

Or that she flew a Polyxo covered in even more icons and gilding than my own. DarkStar's Blood, she even used the brevity name for her first Squadron for a shocker, somehow finding the reason necessary to forgo the full, grandiose, title of "Blessed Silver Star-Maidens".

"Good call, Silver. Let's do it by Flights," I readily agreed. Separate service or no, when a superior officer "requests" something, you hop to and do it.

"Confirm Sister- that is Prefect DiamondDust. Silver One sending handshake," Mother Superior HolyVeil said, followed shortly after by each of the three pilots in her command flight.

There were pauses as each talked on the Flight channel, then the common channels. I marked the confirmation receipt of pings from their data systems. Next, their Second Flight completed the same ritual with reassuring professionalism.

A bit of tension went out of the knot of my back. Consisting of older, but well-maintained Polyxo, the Blessed Star-Maidens were Beloved Discipline's smallest Squadron and also their most capable. All eight suits were donations from various patrons of their Order; some made posthumously.

It was a bit macabre, flying dead demons' Plate, but the expensive suits would have gone to waste anyways. Donating them to the Church was just a more efficient use of resources.

Besides, only two pilots had died in their suits before they were cleaned out, fixed up, and handed to the Sisters.

I might have been concerned about the condition of all their refurbished RP, had not Gibbs and the other Ritualista already gone over the Mother Superior's suits, I thought. Her report wasn't exactly glowing, but the lack of invective was telling after its own fashion.

Officially, the senior Ritualista from all four of Quirinus's Squadrons had been dispatched to ensure they would be capable of the data sharing and airborne simulation requirements for these exercises. Unofficially, we wanted to make sure their suits were not gilded deathtraps. Besides, having reliable information on allied capabilities ready at hand could be... useful.

It's also nice to know at least some of our allies in the Militant Orders can be counted upon as professionals, I added. Certainly there are plenty of DarkStar botherers who cannot be rated as such…

"Prioress Concordia AshenOath of Black Squadron, Heretic Hammers speaking! It is an honor to train with someone touched by Our Revered Lady. Sending data handshake! Sisters call out!" the Squadron Commander said, with grandiose pomposity.

I managed to not grit my teeth as I heard the near worshipful callouts of a Squadron of loons in worryingly old strike suits. It wasn't quite as bad as first generation Melia strike suits, but time had not been kind to the old Telephe suits they were flying.

Well, perhaps that's not fair.

Technically, Gibbs had assured me that, despite the suits of Black and Red Squadron being vintage models, their Lance systems had been updated to where there was more than mere faith keeping them from exploding. Not that anyone had active flasks equipped for today's training. Our Ritualista made sure of that.

I exhaled. Red Squadron, also known as the Crimson Claws, seemed to be a bit less... eager than Black Squadron, but they and Beloved Discipline's novitiate squadron were busy training in providing ground support to the Tarantula Hawk's infantry detachment and the Freehold Rangers.

"Diamond Actual, commencing data handshake," I said as neatly laid out farmland ready for harvest rushed below us, quickly giving way to foothills of pastureland and then finally red and purple forests.

"Call it out, First Flight," Visha said, taking over with the ritual before passing along to the rest of my Squadron.

I was pleased to note that my Squadron was faster and had more comms discipline than the other two Squadrons. Though even Black Squadron, piety aside, accomplished the task. "I am reading solid comms and data links. Flight Ops, Mother Superior HolyVeil do you confirm?"

"I confirm," HolyVeil said.

"Flight Ops confirms," agreed the crisp voice of the combat controller in one of the Umbra orbiting the training area. The VTOLs would be organizing the exercise and serve as backup Search and Rescue birds in case anyone had a mechanical failure.

"Task Force Pinnacle. Task Force Pinnacle. Picket Array has detected an incoming local teleport flare. Passive scrying confirms it is the raiding force," announced the Colonial Air Corps dispatcher with as much unflappable poise as Fleet or Legion Flight Ops.

"Update on force composition?" Mother Superior HolyVeil demanded.

"Sending now," Flight Ops said, chastised by the unspoken rebuke. It seemed the locals were still working out their data fusion procedures.

That was part of this training. Being able to share intelligence and targeting information was a major force multiplier. I frowned, digesting the information as my map display updated.

"Apologies, but on further examination we found the enemy forces are more powerful than anticipated," the dispatcher said as she went into detail.

Our briefing was to expect a corvette squadron supported by a small carrier of some type. This was a fairly standard, if low endurance, raiding formation: Quick, strong enough to defend itself, and with enough offensive throw-weight to inflict non-negligible damage.

I was suspicious that the opposition for this exercise would be such a light formation, as much for the illogic of the purported force as for the tendency of planners to throw curve balls. Frankly, corvettes were fast enough that a force consisting solely of them could, at the expense of slightly more travel time, simply avoid any follow-up teleports. That the opposition was crossing Freehold in a series of short skips indicated something heavier and slower lurked in their formation.

Hence I had little surprise when Flight Ops announced that we were facing a cruiser supported by a light carrier, a couple of scouts, and, in some cosmic bit of irony, a single corvette. This heavier raiding force had arrived from offworld roughly fifteen hundred miles away and proceeded to set course towards New Brigantium. Why exactly we were scrambling at this late point instead of intercepting the raiders considerably earlier was carefully downplayed in the exercise's setup.

Clearly, the capital city was the target of their raid. If they were planning to go on to Mursam, the ships would have laid low high above the orbitals until their runes recharged.

"I estimate intercept in twenty-five minutes. Confirm?" HolyVeil asked, the nun's voice a predatory purr.

"Confirmed, Task Force Pinnacle," the dispatcher brightly replied, her voice a bit too coy. "Be careful, enemy ships will have moved from their last recorded location."

"Something is amiss," I said after switching to my own command channel.

"It's the timecode," Primus Lucia Hood stated in her cool voice.

"How long have they been here?" VioletBlood asked a beat later and gave a frustrated growl at her slowness.

"So, that's the exercise's game," Visha sourly noted.

Flight Ops had implied that they had just detected the enemy teleport signature, which would have meant we had three hours before they finished recharging their runes enough for a local hop. In truth they had been hanging around for well over two hours, which dramatically cut down our operational timeline.

Cursing my own sloppiness, I studied the arrival timestamp on the intel packet and compared it to our current mission time. Even having operations unified to Silvan standard time, there was always a bit of confusion with local time being different. "Thanks girls, I'll break the news to the nuns."

That got some warm chuckles as I switched back over to the Squadron Commander level channel.

"Mother Superior, we have a complication," I politely interjected. "Time is shorter than-"

"Oh those sneaky so and so's!" AshenOath's swear was just as vehement as it was self-censored.

"Good catch." Mother Superior HolyVeil exhaled and seemed to center herself as the next words she said were far more serene. "Flight Ops, confirm arrival time of the enemy formation."

"Picket Array detected the most recent enemy teleport flare two hours twenty-three minutes ago. There was fault in the transmission between the scrying towers and when Command received the data," the dispatcher recited the exercise's fictional narrative. "Truly, we apologize for the discrepancy and will dutifully strive to ensure it does not happen again."

The lack of shame in her voice told me that some other form of shenanigans in these training scenarios would almost certainly happen again.

Still, that confirmed the data we had been given. There was some grumbling about the unrealistic delay, and for Flight Ops to not lead with such vital information, but the Mother Superior silenced that easily.

It might not be realistic, or at least I hoped it wasn't, but I knew synchronization issues were a persistent problem. That wasn't necessarily the grumblers' point. Yes, intelligence failures happened, but tracking when an enemy teleported was just as important as where they teleported. On the other wing, an exercise was supposed to have challenges, and communications slip ups like that could happen.

We had lost precious time either way and now HolyVeil faced a decision. We had taken to the air expecting to hit a small formation in the middle of charging their Teleport Runes; instead, we had found ourselves faced with far larger ships fully capable of teleporting out of our grasp if we tarried.

"You are go for strike," the dispatcher offered in a bright tone. "Go in Her blessed name."

"May She inspire us all," HolyVeil completed the phrase with remarkable composure in light of the bad hand she had been dealt. "Aye for strike."

I held my tongue at that bit of dogma. Every unit had their foibles and traditions.

The Mother Superior then cut into the command channel and made sure it was just us. "Prioresses, the invaders risk escape. We will need to update our plan. Recommendations?"

My estimation of the women went up some. She was asking for advice from her subordinates, yes they were all warrior nun fanatics — excluding my temporary assignment, of course — but seeking counsel in private before making her final decision spoke well of her.

And she did speak hyperbolically with the talk of escape. A local teleport had a max range well under five hundred miles. We would have to find and intercept them all over again, and they would be that much closer to the city, but we could find them again.

"You can all read a map, and you all know our airspeed," HolyVeil grimly said. "We don't need to redline, but we will have to put on the power if we want to have plenty of time to confirm the enemy's location and set up good attack vectors and formations. But that will cost our veiling effectiveness and we will be discovered earlier."

Reducing velocity to make ourselves easier to Veil was an option too, I silently countered. But that came with its own risks.

"Or we can go slower, minimize detection, but risk missing them entirely," HolyVeil continued, wisely echoing my thoughts. For now, I want our velocities to be maintained at max cruise. We will be outside their detection envelope for at least another ten minutes."

And in thirty minutes the enemy raiding force would be gone and we'd have to find them all over again. I briefly went to my Flight Leaders channel and Visha quickly came up with a new formation, altitude and velocity profile for the Squadron. Glancing at the map, I saw the other two Squadrons were also adjusting themselves.

"We also have to decide our target priority," HolyVeil continued as the tree covered low mountains flew below us. "Before we had a clear listing of priorities, but this is more complex."

"While the cruiser is our primary target, we may consider doing raids of our own. Soften them up first," Prioress AshenOath noted, taking a rather reserved position for someone commanding such an aggressively named Squadron.

"Sister is correct; they still need to make two more jumps before reaching the city. This... delay is unfortunate but we do have time," Prioress ScarletDream, second in command after the Mother Superior, and commander of the Blessed Star-Maidens said.

Technically, they would be under veil while recharging their teleport runes and with their lower airspeed and emissions said veils would be more effective, but I was not going to quibble. "What about backup? The Crimson Claws or some of your allies' Hasta bombers would be quite handy. They may not make it for this strike, but in three hours?" I asked.

"That is what I would go for," HolyVeil agreed. "Ideally, we would have all of Freehold's strike RP, bombers, and other assets scrambled for a threat of this size."

She let the statement hang for a moment. Things never went "ideally" in war. This exercise was constructed around inherent limitations to available forces.

"And I will propose a second strike, but we may not get to execute the follow-up mission," she admitted. "Similarly, while I am confident in my pilots and the help from your Legionary Fliers, we will be outnumbered by the enemy RP assets and they will have Torpedo fire support.

"I might even be tempted to regroup for a later strike after the enemy formation's next teleport jump," she admitted with reluctance. "This, however, is the task before us."

I could understand her frustration. While "retreat, regroup, and re-engage in a more advantageous position" was a valid tactic, especially when the defenders could trade space for time, that was not the exercise the proctors had set up.

"Sister DiamondDust, you were right on this being a heavier formation than expected," the Mother Superior noted.

"Just my inner cynic Ma'am. There's rarely a point in an exercise suddenly going easy on us," I pointed out. "Though, I'll admit I have a subordinate more cynical than me. She's the one who spotted the time code issue."

That got several amused laughs.

"I say we focus on their cruiser; that's over four-fifths of their Torpedoes. Yes, she's the toughest target with the best defenses, but that's the ship that will bombard our homes. A cruiser is more dangerous than even three destroyers," Prioress AshenOath stated, now taking an aggressive stance befitting the Heretic Hammers.

I did not point out that even if the cruiser managed to hit the city, their home could be avenged. For a raider fleet, getting to the raid itself was only the first half. They still had to teleport off-planet.

Unlike a short local hop, an off-world teleport required charging their Teleport Runes for nearly a whole day in order to displace such an extreme distance. And since this formation was already using their Teleport Runes for local travel, they would have to charge after bombarding New Brigantium. That was the plan for the Harp's World mission, and it required having a battlecruiser come to our aid for us to escape.

But to do that they had to break contact with the colonial defenders to find a quiet place to lie low and recharge those Runes. The easiest way to do this was to kill or least effectively cripple said defenders. Another option was to present enough of a continued threat that the defenders were not willing to mount another counter-strike, thus allowing or "allowing" the raiders to break contact and recharge. Though a lot could happen in a day, and the defenders would try to at the very least have recon assets tracking the enemy's movements.

The alternative was to get a full day's charge beforehand, hit their targets and immediately teleport off world. That carried its own set of risks, but was not available to this particular formation.

"Do not discount the carriers," Prioress ScarletDream countered. "They carry the majority of the Ritual Plate. It is they and the Squadrons they host who will be defending your cruiser."

Which was true. While the cruiser carried dozens of Torpedoes, those were one shot weapons and every ton of magazine space used for air defense weapons was one less ton available to fire upon the city from standoff range. Ritual Plate, meanwhile, unless shot down was highly reusable and could be deployed for multiple sorties. On the other wing, cruisers frequently carried Torpedo Bombers. Having strike aircraft aboard gave the larger warships far more options in combat. They could be used to launch munitions for the raid, could open new attack vectors, or could further supplement the cruiser's standoff capability. However, for our concern the Bombers could be loaded with anti-air weapons to better defend their little flotilla.

"Taking out a carrier that's already launched its RP doesn't cut down the enemy combat air patrol!" AshenOath hotly replied.

"No, but taking out a hull will make it so the formation can't support them; they'll also have to pull back in all their Ritual Plate before they teleport away, unless they want to abandon their pilots. Either way the enemy will be much weaker when we hit them again, and without that carrier adding its defense," the multi-role Squadron Commander countered.

Taking a moment to sip some water and confirm my Squadron's status, I pondered as an idea crystallized in my mind. ScarletDream had a point, and there was an attritional doctrine that could be adapted for this. Especially given, just before teleporting was when a formation was at its most vulnerable.

"Sister DiamondDust, what are your thoughts?" the Mother Superior asked.

"First, I would strip away their corvette and that tricky little scout," I promptly replied. Scouts were the smallest teleport-capable airships. Every Great House had a model occupying roughly the same size and role. They were often the first to teleport in, and if they found a quiet landing spot, would quickly pulse a beacon to draw in the rest of the formation.

"Ah, may I ask why?" the commander inquired, amused.

"The cruiser and the carrier will be close enough for mutual defense," I replied to her prompting. "Meanwhile, the smaller airships will be ranging out to increase their scrying intake and to place us in a pincer when we come in on strike runs to fire our Lances."

"I see! Take out the small fry and guarantee no one can stab us in the back when we go after the cruiser!" AshenOath said with glee.

"Perhaps," I allowed. "But there are other targets we should consider. Yes, this delay is frustrating and we will have to be careful with our timing. My commanding officer Tribune Quirinus is commanding the opposing force for this exercise."

"A clever woman," the Mother Superior noted.

"Quite so, and she also has assets such as a pair of Manta Ray Torpedo Bombers and a pair of Stiletto airborne golems. Carrying ten light torpedoes, or close equivalents, each, the bombers will be used to expand their air defense network when we attack. Meanwhile, the golems only have four munitions slots and they too can carry Light Torpedo or equivalent munitions," I said, stressing the last words.

"And yet, she has a quick corvette and a cruiser with a deep magazine," Mother Superior HolyVeil said. "You don't think she's going to use the Stilettos as missile platforms like the bombers?"

"There'd be some anti-air missiles. But the Stiletto can also carry a scrying module that greatly expands their sensor capability. And with a fuel-pod or two those golems will give the Tribune a lot of her early warning capability. Unlike the bombers they are expendable; a loss of one is far less of a reduction to her defensive capability. And she would want those bombers at her back as long as she can have them," I confidently said, not realizing how wrong I was. "At least that is what I would do in her place."

"Tracking us further out, and maybe a bit of fire support," HolyVeil sighed. "I'll want your thoughts on what the Stilettos can do, but I suspect we will have to slow down to increase our Veiling a lot sooner than I expected."

"Of course, Ma'am," I happily agreed. "Regardless of the enemy's tracking capabilities, the formation will be at its most vulnerable when they are making ready to teleport. All those Ritual Plate, they don't want to be stranded alone with us. Not to mention the bombers; they would take the longest to land and a cruiser has only a few while the formation has dozens of RP. Before the flotilla teleports, those bombers will have to land."

"Aha! She agrees!" ScarletDream nodded, a smirk clear in her voice, "Obviously we need to hit the carrier first."

"Close," I said with a satisfied purr. "But before we go for the throat, I was thinking we should go for the eyes."

"Oh, I see," Mother Superior HolyVeil noted as realization hit. "You are a vicious one."

"Ma'am?" AshenOath asked.

"Our Sister from Hallowed Lady is saying we should target their Combat Air Patrol." HolyVeil chuckled. "With how nervous the enemy will be now, they should jump. Tracking them down again for a second strike will be tricky, but they'll only have Torpedoes and bombers when we find them again. That's not nothing, but it's far more exposed than they are now."

"And, it will give us time to reposition our forces into a more ideal formation as well," I offered, projecting more confidence than I felt. "Hopefully with that Hasta bomber to bring some Torpedoes of our own as well."

It wasn't a complicated plan, and in some ways it gave the enemy more breathing room than some might be comfortable with. That was fine. The purpose was to give us a lot of slack to adapt as well. After all, the exercise had already thrown us two complications, I knew there would be more soon.

+++++++

After so many hiccups in the operation already, it was almost a relief when the strike on the enemy's scouts and corvettes went smoothly.

The vessels formed a trip line far ahead of the cruiser and carrier they were escorting. They were just close enough that the corvette could still provide prompt fire support but also far enough apart, especially with their RP, to maximize the amount of sky they covered.

It wasn't the most effective formation, as it still left them exposed to attack from quite a lot of angles, but they didn't have a lot of alternatives with their limited numbers. The scouts helped but the sky was big. By covering a large forward arc, the carrier and cruiser were freed to split coverage of the rest of the sky up between themselves, sheltering the advance screen's rear.

Another pleasant, if suspicious, surprise was the lack of any Stilettos between us and our first targets. I suppose they could have been watching the other possible approach vectors to the cruiser. That is where I would have placed them.

Overall, it was a decent formation, and the Colonial Air Corps Polydora Squadron was doing a passable patrol pattern.

It just wasn't decent enough.

Not when nearly three full squadrons of strike Ritual Plate dashed in.

We made sure the first sign of our arrival was the fusillade of Lance blasts lighting up the sky, and colliding with the opposing Ritual Plate. They were only set to training mode, so rather than the eye-searing arcs of arcane energy, they were little more than dazzling targeting beams. Still, to maintain the integrity of the simulated environment, a pyrotechnic lightshow both mystic and mundane erupted between our forces.

After swiftly crushing the rival RP units, the Heretic Hammers went straight for the next biggest threat: the corvette. Even with Mother Superior's exquisite ambush granting us the element of surprise, enough Light Torpedoes still streaked out of the Corvette's tubes to send a quarter of AshenOath's pilots back to base with a new paintjob. A cynical part of me couldn't help but wonder if the ship's actions weren't a little on the sluggish side, but I didn't spend long on it before Lucia's Flight swiftly took out the scout with all the trouble of popping a balloon. Which tracked, given that's what the simulated target was.

It was all-in-all a relatively painless and textbook operation, especially when it came to working with an unfamiliar unit having suits that were not of the most modern make.

Naturally, that was when my back started to tingle from my wings down to the tip of my tail. After all, there was no concealing what we had done.

Quirinus knew where we were, knew where we would be going, and she had her Demi-Wing, minus my Squadron of course. All backed up by a cruiser's worth of Torpedoes and whatever other tricks she had in reserve. Our only advantage was my suspicion that my Tribune would not realize who our true target was.

My Squadron and the Blessed Star-Maidens flanked Prioress AshenOath's Heretic Hammers. While we were all equipped with Lances, AshenOath's Telephe suits had greater magazine capacity and were the least maneuverable.

"VioletBlood, any movements?" I asked over the Flight Leader channel.

Our formation was a compromise of being close enough for mutual defense, but not so clustered that a single salvo of Skofnung Heavy Torpedoes could swamp us with dozens of Vel missiles.

"Gorgon Rigs aren't picking up anything veiled," VioletBlood noted as she highlighted the composite data feed on the shared map. Her Flight was in the lead of my Squadron and thus one of the two leading formations.

An ad hoc formation centered on ScarletDream's three Perseus equipped suits was in the vanguard of the other flank. IBF's Tactical Air Division created the Persistent Systemic Enhanced Unified Scrying system as a rival to Mu Arc's offering. By making a more robust, inexpensive, and less capable version of the scrying suite found in their flagship Occultia suits, Imperial Blimp and Freight assured everyone the Perseus was still an excellent value.

I was not so sure about the claims made in their shiny brochures. Yes, a competitor to the Gorgon Rig was a good thing. Even, perhaps especially, in military procurement, supply chain monopolies came with risk. On its own, the Perseus was an improvement over the stock scrying array in most Ritual Plate models. Perhaps I was more upset by the blatant, almost desperate branding. I was all for the spirit of entrepreneurial competition — it was good for a strong and healthy capitalist society! — and these firms had enough challenges selling restricted and extremely expensive products. However, IBF exclusively marketed it in comparison to Mu Arc's product. Something Mu Arc publicly never reciprocated.

It was… embarrassing.

"Bombers are landing We have detected bombers landing on the cruiser," one of the forward Perseus-equipped Star-Maidens announced as the map updated.

I double-checked my displays. "Confirmed. It looks like they're leaving a bit early. Look for torpedo launches," I ordered my Squadron and then repeated over the command channel. Simulation or no, only an imminent teleport could prompt a cruiser to recall her bombers under these circumstances. I fully expected the cruiser to launch some anti-air assets and hand control over to the Combat Air Patrol before teleporting out.

"Cruiser and light carrier are not landing RP. Repeat, Ritual Plate are not landing," another sister in the Star-Maidens said, voice tight.

"Enemy Combat Air Patrol moving to intercept. Multiple vectors and altitudes!" A third voice cut in.

Then things got very hot, very vast.

"Torpedo Launch! Four Skofnung heavy anti-air. Putting up tracks," Lucia announced, on a priority push that showed the Gorgon was still the superior scrying system, at least when it had data from a dozen rigs to collate.

Two were intercepted with lance beams in very skillful shots at the max range. I had to give the Heretic Hammers that much as they managed to take out the munitions before missile separation with only a handful of wasted shots. Still, the other two Skofnungs accelerated and released their missiles putting 40 full size Vels in the battle space. All three strike Squadrons worked to take out another dozen before the missiles could get very far. The missiles were unsupported and we could focus on them.

However, two Squadrons of Sarpedona used our distraction to race in on an oblique vector. Even having trained with them, it is still a shock to see ground attack Ritual Plate confidently maneuvering at supersonic velocity.

"Visha, change heading to intercept," I ordered after getting directions from the Mother Superior to adjust our formation to spring the trap. We wanted to whittle out their Ritual Plate, this was them playing into our claws.

Right?

Satisfaction at my advice being heeded by crazy warrior nuns curdled as a Colonial Air Corps's Strike Squadron and Quirinus's own Harmonia Squadron raced in. It turned out we were not the only ones willing to wield Lances against Ritual Plate in an act of massive overkill.

The Heretic Hammers maneuvered with alacrity while maintaining proper spacing with their flanking forces. It was nice to not have allied forces bumbling into me, but their strike one was blatantly blunted.

Fortunately, our vector on the raider ships was a feint. There was a virtual flash and the cruiser left the field, leaving behind the light carrier, four RP squadrons, and... a pair of Stilettos.

Fourteen foot-long wings swept back as the air-combat golems accelerated to their max dash of nearly Mach 2. The CAC Telephe managed to just keep up running rough escort on the Stilettos.

The golems threw themselves recklessly towards our formation, forcing our strike suits to direct our focus on the enemy RP. The upgraded Sarpedona proved tough enough to make a real fight of it by soaking up Lances while the remnants of initial Vel strike from the cruiser hit the Hammers and took out another two suits.

"Enemy golems. Expect anti-air payloads Intercept! Intercept!" I ordered my Squadron. "VioletBlood, break off from the Sarpedonas, we'll cover your fire!"

Similar orders came down the command channel. We still had the edge on casualties and the Sarpedona squadron that had tried to get past my Pilots was on the edge of breaking up, at the cost of three of my pilots, but Quirinus knew how to pressure us, and, as my stomach clenched, I realized she knew how to play me.

My orders came too late as her trap closed around us.

The Stilettos could have carried all sorts of munitions, from Hrodwulf anti-air Light Torpedoes to full size Vel Standards to a mix of anything in between, all to give a range of standoff capabilities. Instead, Quirinus had them stuffed with the short-ranged Vel Sprints. In the simulation, at least. I suspected that their magazines were, in truth, completely empty. We had only brought a limited number of training munitions, mostly Konoe Light Torpedoes, and those were being saved for exercises where virtual torpedoes would not suffice.

The upshot was that each golem could hold forty of the diminutive missiles under real or, in this case, simulated battlefield conditions. That was at least two warheads for each remaining RP in our strike Squadrons, which the golems all launched at once in a massive cloud of missiles.

As the air combat broke into a veritable knife-fighting ultra-close-range fur-ball, I noted that the missiles were being skillfully directed instead of merely using on-board seekers. Under clear guidance, the highly mobile projectiles were driving us apart, slicing through knots of attempted organization and breaking up flights, leaving Quirinus's Harmonia free to pluck the surviving stragglers from the sky at their leisure.

Such close control likely came from the techs aboard the carrier daisy-chained across a relay to the Stilettos and thence to the missiles. Or, in reality, whatever Telum Centurions who were on a VTOL somewhere serving as proxy missile directors.

Despite the mounting casualties, the direct close-in application of eighty missiles actually allowed some of the Sarpedona to survive and break contact. This small silver lining came at the cost of protecting Quirinus's Harmonia and the CAC Telephe being stuck in. We cheered when one of the Stilettos was taken off the board, but I suspected that one was nearly empty on missiles anyway.

"We just have to survive until their missiles are expended, then we'll regain the firepower advantage," the Mother Superior declared as her remaining Flight broke through and sprinted towards to Quirinus's command element. Lance flasks empty, she was going in with conventional anti-air Ballista projectors.

In an impressive bit of coordination, the Colonial Strike suits were about to use their Lances to obliterate the Star-Maidens but I managed to place my remaining forces into an intercept and with our last Lances take out two full Flights, at the cost of the last sixteen Vel sprints that Quirinus had been holding in reserve on the surviving Stiletto launching directly into my Squadron's faces.

Firing my Ballista, launching flares, and even using my Zephyr, I intercepted as many as I could, trying to keep Visha "alive" and still in command. But, soon enough the edges of my screen flashed showing that I was no longer part of the exercise and was to descend to a safe, out of the way, altitude.

Shot down. Again.

Breathing hard, I gasped a few times and at least had the satisfaction to see Quirinus's suit also descending to my level.

Sipping water from the hydration tube, I took stock of who was left.

The good news was that the raiders' Combat Air Patrol was reduced to a thoroughly combat ineffective condition and it was doubtful if they could even limp back to the light carrier, which was also at risk of being taken out by a Lance strike. On the other wing, that strike mission would probably be the last thing my Squadron and the two Paragon Order Squadrons would do in this exercise.

"I suppose the debriefing will be interesting for this one," Tribune Artemis Quirinus said on a private channel.

"Mutual destruction is always a risk, Ma'am. And leads to the cold numbers of expenditure of forces. And goes into short term attrition versus long term force preservation," I stated, noticing absently that both my Vs were out of the exercise and command had devolved to Lucia, leaving her with barely a heavy Flight of pilots.

"If you don't survive the short term, then a long term won't happen," Quirinus playfully remarked. "I will admit that, as the defenders, you had a deeper pool of assets. Well, not for this exercise exactly, but overall."

"Where as raiders, you couldn't withdraw."

"Not anymore than you surmised, eh?" the Tribune said almost a purr to her voice. "Nice to see it's not just Legion wing-command level officers you can convince."

I exhaled. "I just gave the Mother Superior the best advice I could. The debrief will have a lot of ground to cover."

"And you came out of it well enough. It got a bit surprising at the end, but this exercise was not exactly fair," Quirinus took a position flying at my wing, just a bit behind me. "I will need to soothe Fabia's and JadeTalon's ruffled feathers," she said, referring to the two Sarpedona Squadron Leaders.

"Fabia will take it fine, I believe, Ma'am. But I get your meaning. It is good for those hot shot pilots in their shiny new suits to get their horns trimmed down a peg. Just so that they realize that they're just as mortal as the rest of us, and one lucky shot away from getting their wings clipped." I winced, realizing how my words could be taken.

"Ohoh?" Flying at my wing, Quirinus tilted her head meaningfully. It probably said something that she was letting me take the lead position in our little formation. "Aren't you one to talk, Countess?"

"I should certainly hope so, Ma'am," I dryly replied. "I was shot down over Harp's World, after all. That I was able to walk away from those Elenese Zorya pilots at all marks me as one of the lucky ones."

Then I shrugged to myself, opting to be a bit more casual than I would normally allow with my superior, but gambling that given the circumstances, it would be suitable for post-exercise chatter on a private channel, 'Besides, if that didn't trim my horns down to size, a little practice flight with my mother Duchess when I went home certainly did the trick."

My commander's grim laughter told me I had made the right call.

End Chapter 4 of Book 3

Apologies for the delay. I posted a chapter for another project and have been working on a Dresden Files one shot (another sequel to Blood Debts) .

Thanks to DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, PonKatt, ScarletFox, and Lisafication for checking and editing this whole work and putting in all the effort to clean up the story. Special Thanks to Scarlet Fox for the chapter title and the LD discord for helping bring this chapter together and with the editing and polishing.

Chapter 5 has been written and is being edited. And the bulk of ch 6 has been written (at also at 9k words).

 

[Tortoise]

"I do hope you didn't just call Freehold, settled and inhabited our own fellow citizens, backwards.

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inhabited by

"And Olivania is more populous, industrialized, and has more beacons and ports than Freehold," Janice bragged pridefully, then wince at her volume and put a hand over her mouth.

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winced

"Not that they can get all that they want. The reality of being a world surrounded by BlackSkyvian colonies meant they can't be truly independent."

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means

Ballast and trim systems adjusted to negative net lift, and the Tarantula Hawk settled onto the concrete apron as cables were secured onto bow and art, port and starboard.

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aft

One advantage of training on a minor colony was how comparatively easy it was to close-off a large amount of airspace.

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close off

Exercises could even be conducted almost adjacent to New Brigantium, provided local air traffic was diverted and we stayed well away from the main beacon's arrival zone

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zone.

I might have been concerned about the condition of all their refurbished RP, had not Gibbs and the other Ritualista already gone over the Mother Superior's suits, I thought.

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"I thought" incorrectly italicized

"Prioress Concordia AshenOath of Black Squadron, Heretic Hammers speaking! It is an honor to train with someone touched by Our Revered Lady. Sending data handshake! Sisters call out!" the Squadron Commander, said with grandiose pomposity.

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Commander said

"Diamond Actual, commencing data handshake," I said as neatly laid-out farmland ready for harvest rushed below us, quickly giving way to foothills of pastureland and then finally red and purple forests.

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laid out

If they were planning to go onto Mursam, the ships would have laid low high above the orbitals until their runes recharged.

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on to

"Oh those sneaky so and so's!" AshenOath's swore was just as vehement as it was self-censored.

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swear

"Flight Ops, confirm arrival time of the enemy formation.

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formation."

On the other wing, an exercise was supposed to have challenges, and communications slip up like that could happen.

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ups

"This, however, is the task before us"

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us."

That was the plan for the Harp's World mission, and it required having a battlecruiser come to our aide for us to escape.

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aid

But to do that they had to break contact with the colonial defenders to find a quiet place to lay low and recharge those Runes.

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to lie low

Ritual Plate, meanwhile, unless shot-down was highly reusable and could be deployed for multiple sorties.

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shot down

"Close," I said with a satisfied purr. But before we go for the throat, I was thinking we should go for the eyes."

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"But

All backed up a cruiser's worth of Torpedoes and whatever other tricks she had in reserve.

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backed up by

"Bombers are landing/ We have detected bombers landing on the cruiser," one of the forward Perseus-equipped Star-Maidens announced as the map updated.

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All three strike Squadrons worked to take out another dozen taken out before the missiles could get very far.

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Fourteen foot-long wings swept back as the air-combat golems accelrated to their max dash of nearly Mach 2.

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The good news was that the raider's Combat Air Patrol was reduced to a thoroughly combat ineffective condition and it was doubtful if they could even limp back to the light carrier, which was also at risk of being taken out by a Lance strike.

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raiders'

"Where as raiders, you couldn't withdraw."

"Not anymore than you surmised, no?" the Tribune said almost a purr to her voice.

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?

'I was shot down over Harp's World, after all. That I was able to walk away from those Elenese Zorya pilots at all marks me as one of the lucky ones."

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"I

 

[Sunshine Temple]

inhabited by

<snip>

"I

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Thanks for all the corrections! Apologies for you needing to find them. I updated the chapter with them and reuploaded it.

Thanks again!

 

[RogueInquisitor]

Seems like local jumps by a raiding force only make sense if you don't fear prompt retaliation. On Harp's World, they tried to take out all forces that could respond in time as part of the raid, and the arrival of the DarkStar raised the level of required forces above what the defenders could muster.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

Seems like local jumps by a raiding force only make sense if you don't fear prompt retaliation. On Harp's World, they tried to take out all forces that could respond in time as part of the raid, and the arrival of the DarkStar raised the level of required forces above what the defenders could muster.

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Very true!

In making the setting I wanted to have several types of teleportation, but I didn't want to have it where a ship could too easily break contact. A raiding force could pre-charge their teleportation systems but that would having the time to charge before the attack.