Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tascha rolled to a stop at the checkpoint. Pulling her sunglasses down, she smirked at the cupid sitting in the booth. The soldier pursed her lips and picked up the phone in front of her.

“Ma’am? She’s here.”

A voice on the other end affirmed what the cupid had said.

“Understood. I’ll send her in.”

The cupid hung up the phone and pushed a button to raise the arm blocking Tascha’s car.

“Pull through to the parking lot on the right. Someone will-“

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve done this before, you know,” Tascha said, speeding away as soon as there was clearance for her vehicle.

She zipped through the base, earning a few glares from the soldiers around her. Tascha hummed to herself as she turned the car into the long-term parking lot, making sure to take up two spots to prevent any dings to her baby while she was away.

“Hey, you can’t park like that,” said a succubus military police officer, gesturing to Tascha’s car.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Owe it all to you gals, though. Eros is the one who paid for this,” said Tascha, patting the roof as she stepped out.

“I- What…?” The MP said, not following Tascha’s abrupt pivot.

“Take care of it while I’m gone. I’ll let you take her for a spin if you get it washed,” Tascha patted the succubus on the shoulder and walked to the entrance of the building.

A guard nodded to her. She held a keycard up to a panel. The imposing steel doors rumbled open to allow Tascha entrance. Her hooves clacked against the metal of the floor as she made her way down the halls. Past the forlorn, sterile entrance, she traveled through the base until she reached the administrative portion of the building. Here, rows of cubicles and jubilant sigils of Eros and the Demon Lord broke the monotony of a military base. If one were to ignore the floors and walls, the administrative wing could be mistaken for a normal office building.

“There you are.”

A battle scarred dark valkyrie strutted towards her. The officer’s cap she wore proudly sported the symbol of the Extremist faction. An ensemble of medals hung from her prodigious bust, a testament to the quantity and arduousness of the campaigns she had taken part in.

“Commander,” Tascha said.

“You’re late,” tutted the commander.

“You’re the one who insists on putting all the fences and security around this place. Seriously, who the hell is ever going to attack an Extremist fort?” asked Tascha.

“One can never be too careful. Attacks needn’t come from an external enemy,” said the commander.

“As long as they aren’t charging me for parking…” shrugged Tascha.

“Come with me. We have much to discuss,” said the commander, turning back the way she had come.

“You always say that, and it always ends in a three sentence missions summary,” said Tascha.

“It’s called a briefing because it’s brief,” said the commander.

The valkyrie threw open a pair of doors in dramatic fashion. A houri about to open the door from the other side was launched back, spilling the mug of coffee she was carrying up her blouse. Tascha stepped into the room, inspecting the wall of monitors on the far side. The control room. Everywhere she looked, Extremists were hard at work amidst the rows of computers, toiling to secure the future of humanity in the favor of the Demon Lord. Certainly not for money. Some of the Eros girls even worked for free on the weekends as a hobby. Tascha knew she probably made more than what most of them made in a month on one mission. Then again, none of them could do what she did. No one else could.

“Pull it up,” said the commander, moving to the edge of the command deck that overlooked the room.

The screens shifted to show a grainy satellite image of a building in the mountains.

“What am I looking at?” asked Tascha.

“An Order base. It’s located in the lower Pinus Mountain range. We just discovered it a few days ago,” said the commander.

“And I assume that you didn’t invite me here to gloat about all the husbands you snagged from it,” said Tascha.

The commander nodded to one of the computer jockeys a second image appeared next to the first one. This image was shot from the ground, with the fortress nestled in the hills off in the distance. A faint aureole of light surrounded the base, as if there was some sort of glare interfering with the shot.

“What is that?” asked Tascha, squinting at the photo.

“An energy signature. Something there is outputting an absurd amount of holy energy, and we need to find out what it is,” said the commander.

“Sounds like something a commando squad could do,” said Tascha.

“Negative. Play the clip.”

A video began to play on screen. It was the body camera of an extremist soldier. Her breasts took up half of the foreground, bouncing and swaying as the soldier ran towards the base through the woods. Pausing briefly at a pine tree, she broke from the tree line and sprinted towards the imperious concrete structure. The same shimmering veil from the photo was there, hanging in the middle of the field. The moment the operator passed through, an alarm began to sound in the fortress. The soldier cursed. Armed men appeared on the walls and began to shout. The camera jerked violently as the Extremist high-tailed it back to the trees, ducking to avoid the barrage of incoming bullets.

“Stop it there,” said the commander. She turned to look at Tascha.

“Every agent we’ve sent has been detected before they could even get close to that base. We’ve tried everything: commandos, elementals, ghosts, the works. They have countermeasures for everything. And they’ve got the resources and manpower to outlast any siege we could muster. We need an ace.”

“Have you tried a wurm?” Tascha asked sarcastically.

“We have. They’ve installed “Free Candy” signs underground pointing away from the base. The last wurm we sent drilled all the way out to the ocean before we were able to recall her,” said the commander.

“They really did think of everything…” said Tascha.

“Not you,” the commander said, looking at the krampus.

“Sounds like this is going to be a tough nut to crack,” Tascha said, looking at the schematics of the base on screen.

“It is. I won’t lie to you, Tascha, you’ll be going in blind. We’ve seen fortresses similar to this one, but there’s no way to tell what lurks within. There could be anything inside those walls.”

“Uncertainty has never stopped me before,” said Tascha.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t stop you this time, either,” sighed the commander.

“You know, since this is such a dangerous mission and all, I am going to need some hazard pay…” Tascha said, rubbing her fingers together.

“I’ve already authorized you to be paid twice your usual rate,” said the commander.

“Woah-ho! Count me in, chief. That base is as good as gone,” said Tascha.

“Not so fast, there’s more,” said the commander.

“Money?” asked Tascha.

“Potentially. Given how little we know about the base, it’s possible that the parameters and objectives of the mission will change once you’re inside. I need to know that I can depend on you to get the job done, no matter what happens. To that end, I’ve prepared additional funds for the completion of certain contingencies, should they arise,” said the commander.

Tascha’s long tongue snaked over her lips. It was like the Chief God’s festival come early.

“Consider it done. They won’t know what hit them,” said Tascha.

“Excellent. You should head down to the armory, I hear that Paula has some new equipment for you,” said the commander.

“I’ll do just that~” said Tascha.

“We’ll have a more complete briefing ready for you when you get back. The mission begins in forty hours. Be ready. You can stay here until it begins.”

“I could go right now if I really needed to. But I do like to steal shampoo from the girls who bunk here, so I’ll take you up on that offer. See you around, chief.”

Tascha left the commander to stare contemptuously at the image of the fort on screen while she made her way down to the armory.

~~~~~~~~~

“Yo! Paula! I heard you got some goodies for me,” said Tascha, leaning over the counter.

A cyclops turned around, polishing the pistol she was holding. “Tascha! I was hoping you would make it.”

“With what I stand to make from this mission? You better believe I’m here,” said Tascha.

“Hah! Everything is always about the money with you. Why do Extremists tolerate someone who prioritizes wealth over love?” asked Paula.

“Because I’m damn good at what I do, so don’t you start with me too. It’s bad enough how often these people try to set me up with someone,” said Tascha.

“You should find a man. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to come home to?” asked Paula.

Tascha scoffed. “You don’t understand, okay? The guy has to have the right feel to him.”

“I know a man who would love your company. He has a wonderful feel to him. Very firm and skinny, he would be easy to carry around in one of your bags,” said Paula.

“You don’t get it,” said Tascha. “When you have the one, and he’s in the bag, it feels right. He’s got the right amount of heft, the perfect amount of squirm, an immaculate pleading voice… that kind of thing. When you have the wrong guy, it feels gross.”

“Gross?” asked Paula.

“Yeah. Like you put your shoe on, and your sock gets bunched up at the toe,” said Tascha.

“But… you don’t even wear socks,” said Paula, looking down at Tascha’s hooves.

“That’s the best way to describe it, okay?!” Tascha said. “Look, when the right man is in my sack, I’ll know. Until then, I’m going to keep filling vaults with cash so I can retire with him in a nice chalet in the mountains and spend my evenings next to a warm fire wrapped in a blanket with him, drinking hot chocolate and watching the snow fall outside.”

Paula smirked. “You know, the other girls say that you’re callous and materialistic, but I get the feeling that you’re an even bigger romantic than some of these Extremists.”

“Start spreading that rumor around the base and I’ll show you how “callous” I can really be,” said Tascha.

“I’m the one with the gun,” said Paula, pointing the pistol at her.

Tascha nimbly twisted it out of her hand with a flick of her wrist. “Not for long. Is this for me?”

Paula uttered a hearty laugh. “As fast as ever! That’s why the commander keeps calling you back. Yeah, that one is yours. And this goes with it.”

Paula pulled a suppressor out from under the counter. Tascha screwed it into the barrel while Paula produced a box of bullets.

“These just came in too. Cast from the same alloy the automatons are made out of. I don’t know what the hell it is, but I’ve never come close to making anything so strong.”

Tascha looked down the sights of her pistol. She pulled the slide back to inspect the guts of the firearm. Letting the slide go, she picked up one of the bullets.
“Heavy little thing,” she mused, rolling it between her fingers.

“They’re for heavily armored targets. One of those will pierce through just about anything the Order can throw at you. Just don’t waste them on normal soldiers, okay? It’s a bitch to get the silver jacketing on those, and the alloy we use to make them doesn’t come cheap,” said Paula.

“Only shoot at big stuff, got it,” said Tascha.

Paula presented a second box as well. “These are for everything and everyone else. Subsonic rounds with a special powder that leaves behind less smoke and smell. It’s not inaudible, but it’s the closest you’re going to get to silent.”

“Ooh, fancy~” Tascha said, inspecting one of the bullets. “Got anything else for me?”

“What do you need?” asked Paula, stepping aside to let Tascha inspect the rest of the weapons.

Tascha chewed her lip. “Hmm… Gimme another one of the usual,” she said, waggling the pistol at Paula. “And I’ll also take one of the combat knives, three throwing knives, a length of rope, one block of plastic explosive and a remote detonator, a lockpicking kit, two- no, three grenades, and a dozen sacks.”

Paula had already piled up most of the equipment by the time Tascha finished.

“Ah! I have a surprise for you,” said Paula. She flopped a black bag onto the counter. “Ta-da!”

“What is it?” asked Tascha, picking up the fabric.

“A new bag. The commander thought it would be prudent to design you a next-generation bag, since we employ your services so much. It’s made out of a Kevlar-kejourou hair weave that’s rugged enough to survive the field, and flexible enough to be stretched without tearing open. It can be expanded to almost twice its original size!”

Tascha opened the bag. She peered inside, frowning at the design. Pulling it off the counter, she held it open next to her waist. With a swift pivot of her body, she raised the bag up and brought it down over an imaginary human.

“It’s a little clunky,” said Tascha, pinching at the fabric between her fingers.

“Clunky?”

“Yeah. When you scoop with it, the air gets caught. It slows you down,” said Tascha.

“I didn’t know bags could be ‘clunky,’” said Paula, looking at the sack quizzically.

“It’s a krampus thing. Look, when your life is on the line, that fraction of a second is all it takes for you to be needing a lich. I appreciate the effort, but I think I’ll be sticking to the usual for now. Best to stick to what I know,” said Tascha.

Paula shrugged. “Burlap it is. I’ll pass your review on to R&D.”

The cyclops pulled out a wad of large burlap sacks. Tascha picked one up and sniffed it, gleefully exhaling the earthy scent.

“Ahh, the heavenly aroma of jute,” said Tascha.

“The boss says she’s going to kit you out with a bunch of tech stuff too, so keep that in mind when you’re packing all this up,” said Paula.

“As long as I have enough bags, I can carry the world,” said Tascha.

Paula smirked. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Tascha flipped open one of the bags and shoveled her tools inside. Paula winced as the grenades clattered off of the counter into the bag. Tascha shook it a few times to settle her gear at the bottom.

“Actually, I think I could use a few more bags.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Check, check.”

The dwarf gave Tascha a thumbs up.

“Testing,” said the dwarf.

Tascha winced at the sound of her voice. She reached up to her earpiece and lowered the volume.

“Good on my end,” said Tascha.

“How is the suit fitting you?”

The commander strode up behind the dwarf to inspect their progress. Tascha turned around and shook her butt at the dark valkyrie.

“Feels like I’m wearing nothing at all,” said the krampus.

“That suit costs more than some countries make in a year. Please take this seriously,” said the commander.

Tascha flexed her hands. This thing sure felt like it was worth that much. A black catsuit that was packed to the gills with all sorts of electronic gadgets. Bio feedback, a heads-up display, audio and visual recording and transmitting, extra servos in the gloves to give her some grip strength, all packed into an airtight package. It even had air conditioning.

“Fits like a glove,” said Tascha, doing a few jumping jacks to demonstrate her maneuverability.

“Good. Are you all packed?” asked the commander.

Tascha gestured with her thumb at the pile of sacks.

“I’ve been ready. Let’s get this stuff to the runway so I can get my bag of peanuts,” said Tascha.

“Not so fast. We need to wait for your partner,” said the commander.

Tascha cocked her head. “Woah, partner? You never said anything about that. You know I fly solo.”

“Not this time. We’re in the dark here; we need someone down there with you in case you need to be evacuated,” explained the commander.

“If you’re worried about my safety, then you’ll keep your goons from slowing me down,” said Tascha.

“This girl is legit. One of the best track records in the service. She’s just a little…”

“That pause doesn’t fill me with confidence,” said Tascha.

The commander sighed. “She’s a bit eccentric. Takes her job a little too seriously, even by Extremist standards. And she’s got some “idiosyncrasies” that some people find a bit tedious. Just play along with it and whatever you do, don’t laugh at her.”

“What, is she a bogie?” asked Tascha.

“Cupid,” said the commander. The doors behind her opened. “Ah, here she is now. Tascha, this is Ishta, she’ll be your over watch for the mission.”

A layer of fog billowed out of the doors. Ishta strutted out, openly carrying her high-caliber sniper rifle. She was clad in a snow-camouflaged trench coat with her nose and mouth covered by a gasmask. Her bangs hung over one of her eyes. She flipped her hair out of the way, tilting the beret on her head, and locked eyes with Tascha.

“Love may be blind, but nothing escapes my sight,” Ishta said coldly.

Tascha had to clap both of her hands over her mouth to keep herself from laughing. The commander covered her face in shame. A few of the technicians around them cringed. Ishta was ignorant of all of this, subtly pushing a button on her smart watch to deactivate the fog machines behind her.

“Nice to meet you, Ishta,” Tascha sputtered, biting her cheek to keep her composure.

“Likewise,” Ishta said.

“Ishta, dear, why don’t you go with the technicians here and make sure that thermal scope they made for you is working properly?” said the commander.

Ishta nodded and wandered over to a gremlin. The tiny woman looked to her companions for support and, seeing them scatter, resigned herself to her fate.

The commander turned back to Tascha. “Look, you can mute her once the mission starts. It’s what we all do. Trust me, her shooting makes up for it.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m going to be found out in seconds if I’m laughing that hard,” said Tascha.

“Do you want to get paid or not?” snapped the commander.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take her along,” said Tascha.

“Good. The plane should be about finished fueling. Did you get the bag of equipment I had prepared for you?”

Tascha patted the bag on her hip. “All here. Doubt I’ll need any of it.”

“It’s for our sake, not yours. Unless you’d like to try your hand at cracking a level six encryption by yourself,” said the commander.

“On second thought, one can never be too prepared,” said Tascha.

Ishta wandered back over to them, now sporting a pair of night vision goggles that looked wildly out of place in the brightly lit room.

“My wings yearn to catch the winds of war,” said Ishta.

Tascha stuffed her head into a sack to muffle her laugh. The commander stifled a snigger with a well-timed cough.

“Yes, well, your wings are in luck. You’re departing immediately. You know your mission, everything will be fine as long as you remember your training. Good luck to you both.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it~” sneered Tascha.

Ishta pulled her night vision goggles up to look at Tascha. Her pink iris twinkled in admiration. Tascha pursed her lips, suddenly realizing that perhaps it was time to stop making quips like that if this critter enjoyed them so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tascha did another sweep of the plane with her eyes. Anything to distract her from Ishta’s unflinching stare. Six hours of flight time, and she hadn’t blinked once. Worse still, she only talked when spoken to, even then responding in one or two words. Tascha adjusted her suit again, picking at the fabric of the special bag she had been given.

“What’s that?”

The question made Tascha jump. She held out the bag so that Ishta could see.

“A special bag they made for me. I don’t think I’ll use it, though,” said Tascha.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t swing the way I like. And I think it’s gross that it’s made out of kejourou hair. I swear I’ve felt this thing breathe once or twice,” said Tascha.

“Can you really fight with a sack?” asked Ishta.

“Yeah.”

Ishta looked at the sack and then to Tascha. “Could you teach me?”

“What, to fight with a sack?” asked Tascha.

“Is it a martial art?” asked the cupid.

“No, it’s magic. Krampuses alter the physical properties of things that they put in sacks. It’s why I can carry three times my body weight in gear without breaking a sweat and haul a guy up a chimney in seconds. You can’t just learn how to fit a human into a bag that’s a quarter of their size,” said Tascha.

“Oh…” said Ishta.

Tascha watched her think for a moment.

“Can the magic be transferred to me?” asked Ishta.

Tascha cocked an eyebrow. The intercom crackled to life before she could ask what exactly Ishta was getting at with that last statement.

“We’re nearing the drop zone. Three minutes out,” said the pilot.

Tascha grabbed the oxygen mask above her head and put it on. Lowering her goggles, she tapped the side to activate the heads-up display. The interface shimmered to life, listing all of the functions available to her. Ishta took the time to sling a katana over her back. Tascha stared at her.

“Are you seriously bringing a sword?” asked the krampus.

“Yeah,” replied Ishta, as if it were an odd question.

“Why?”

Ishta smirked. “In case I decide to get serious.”

Tascha felt her optic nerve strain as she rolled her eyes beyond what she had thought possible. A light flashed above the cargo bay door as an alarm began to blare. The door slowly lowered. Freezing air swirled into the plane. Tascha looked at Ishta.

“Cold enough for you?” asked the krampus.

“Suits me just fine. Is the air thick enough for you?” asked Ishta.

Tascha nodded. “Touche, wings. See you on the ground.”

Ishta clutched her sniper rifle. Taking a running jump, she leapt out of the plane. Tascha was right behind her. The wind screamed in her ears as she hurtled towards the ground. Craning her neck up, she caught a glimpse of Ishta through the clouds. Ishta saluted with two fingers. Opening her wings, the cupid arrested her fall and glided off through the night. Tascha broke through the cloud cover. Valleys and mountains covered with thick pine forests came into view. Her goggles quickly picked up on her target: a pinprick of light below her. The distance to the ground and the bearing she had to make flashed up onto her eyepieces.

“Well I’ll be damned, they finally made something useful,” said Tascha.

Her earpiece crackled to life. “We can hear you.”

“Oh, hi commander. I thought we were going to do the mic check on the ground,” Tascha shouted over the wind.

“No need for a check. We’ve got a constant flow of data from your suit. We’ll need you to do a few things for us once you land, but that’s all in due time. For now, just focus on following the flight plan that in the goggles. We’re going to insert you through a small gap we’ve identified in the top of that barrier. It seems to grow weaker around this time of night. There’s a chimney on the roof of the northwest building, land there to begin your mission,” said the commander.

“Got it.”

Tucking her arms in, Tascha sped towards her target. She fumbled for the ripcord on her shoulder. When the computer prompted her, she yanked the cord. Black arachne silk unfolded above her, jerking her into a gentle descent. Tascha guided herself in towards the roof. The shimmer of the barrier became more visible to her as she approached. Her goggles highlighted the barrier with different colors to show how much energy was where. Tascha aimed for the blue circles at the very top, where the holy energy was thinnest. She held her breath as she slipped through the barrier. It was only the faintest tickle of holy energy. Only time would tell if she would remain undetected.

Tascha could see Order soldiers below her now. They miserably lazed about the ramparts, or around small fires in the main yard of the compound. It was plain to see that they were all more concerned with forestalling frostbite than staying vigilant. Tascha couldn’t blame them; not many forces would mount an assault on a place like this.

The roof she was steering herself towards was at the back of the fortress, higher up on the mountain. Set into the start of a small slot canyon, the architects of the edifice had relied on nature to form the last ramparts of their creation. No soldiers were on patrol this far from the front of the compound. Tascha pulled hard to steer herself around the pines on the cliff, swinging herself into line with the roof. The padding on her hooves made her landing whisper quiet against the concrete of the roof. She frantically pulled the parachute down, packing it back into the bag as fast as she could.

“I’m on the roof,” Tascha whispered.

“Good. Find the transponder in that tech bag,” said the commander.

Tascha rooted around through the sack. “This thing?” she asked, pulling out a strange looking puck.

“Yes. That’s it. The wireless communication booster in that should give us enough coverage to reach you throughout the base,” said the commander.

Tascha flipped the switch. The puck flashed to life. A satellite symbol appeared on the front, flashing red and showing a break in the cable to an image of the puck.
“Are you seeing this?” asked Tascha.

“We are. Give it a second,” said the commander.

The image flashed green, and the picture changed to show the satellite connecting to the puck.

“You’re all set. Ready to get in there?” asked the commander.

“I am. I’ll talk to you once I’m inside,” said Tascha.

She wandered over to the chimney. Maybe “chimney” wasn’t the right word. This was more like an exhaust port to some furnace deep in the bowels of this place, belching out smoke. It was only about fifteen centimeters in diameter; more than enough to fit through. She would have preferred a nice brick chimney with the fresh, inviting smell of burning pine boughs coming from the fires below, but that would have to wait for some other, more domestic, invasion. She pulled one of her pistols out and flipped the safety off. Pulling back the slide to make sure she had the right ammunition loaded, she approached the chimney and smirked.

“This is my favorite part of the job~”

Leaning forward, Tascha let her body contort and squeeze into the chimney. Breathing the smoke felt as natural to her as fresh air in an alpine meadow. The rest of her body slithered into the tube, slowly descending through the haze. An orange glow bloomed below her. Tascha let herself drift down the chimney towards the inferno. Her body expanded again as the tube widened. The flames didn’t bother her one bit. She let her body flop into the coals. Reaching out, she raised the grate on the furnace and poked her head out.

The room was abandoned. A solitary shovel resting against a mountain of coal was the only inhabitant of the furnace room. Tascha slithered out of the furnace, shutting the grate behind her.

“Command, I’m in.”

Tascha could hear the sounds of cheers from the other end of her earpiece.

“Good work. Communications are holding steady. Looks like they didn’t skimp on the guts of this thing, interference is already starting to pick up. Head upstairs and see what you can find. We need to find a place where we can access their systems,” said the commander.

“Got it,” said Tascha.

“Your suit has a small radar system installed into it. We’ll be able to map your progress through the building. Hopefully the Order is still using their standardized building templates.”

Tascha held her pistol at the ready and moved towards the staircase. She slunk up the steps to the heavy metal door, carefully reaching for the handle. After she made sure that the hinges weren’t going to squeal, she cracked the door and peered out. The hall outside was empty. Tascha took a deep breath and stepped out into the open. This was the most stressful part of the mission. Nowhere to hide now.

“Relax, there are no cameras,” said the commander.

“I’m not worried about cameras,” whispered Tascha.

She kept herself close to the wall, dashing to the nearest doorway. She pressed her ear to the wood and listened. Her earpieces crackled. A moment later, they began broadcasting the sound a bit louder, picking up every minute sound coming from behind the door. When Tascha was satisfied that there was nothing inside, she propped open the door. There was nothing but spare office supplies inside.

“Anyone need some stationary?” asked Tascha, looking around the room.

“Move on if there are no computers in there. We need more data to cross reference blueprints,” said the commander.

Tascha shut the door and continued on. The commander continued to guide her through the abandoned sublevel, cataloging various vents, rooms, and halls as she went. Tascha’s ears flicked. The sound of combat boots against the cement floor caught her attention. She quickly and calmly entered one of the unused rooms and put her ear to the door. The soldier passed without so much as a whistle, heading towards the furnace room.

“Is it safe to talk?” asked the commander.

“Yeah. What is it?” asked Tascha.

“We have some good news. It looks like this fortress follows the same design of one we raided a decade ago,” said the commander. “We’re going to upload the blueprints to your HUD. Provided it really is a carbon copy, you’ll be able to use the data to navigate to an administrative office.”

A loading bar appeared in Tascha’s goggles. The eyepieces flickered for a moment. A 3D map appeared in the corner of her vision, showing her as a small arrow in a room. Tascha reached up with her fingers to expand the hologram.

“Your best bet would probably be this office,” said the commander.

A room on the second highest floor flashed red.

“Got it. On my way,” said Tascha.

She shrunk the map back down and listened into the hallway again. Still no sounds. Tascha felt more confident now that she had a rough idea of where she was. Sprinting through the halls, she made a beeline for the elevator shafts.

“Think you can get me into one of these shafts?” asked Tascha.

“Open up the panel and let’s see,” said a gremlin.

Tascha reached into one of her bags to grab her electric screwdriver. Selecting the correct bit, she let the screwdriver pull out the fastenings, careful to save the screws.

“Okay, put one of the bypasses onto the back of the control panel,” instructed the gremlin.

Tascha pulled out one of gadgets she had been given. It looked like someone had beaten an alarm clock against the ground and pulled out all the electronics.

“What the hell is this?!” said Tascha.

“It’s a prototype, okay? I didn’t have time to make it pretty. Just attach that clip to the white wire and the other end to the power supply.”

Tascha began affixing the bypass. Her ears twitched. Someone was coming. She looked around. The junction she was standing in was visible from three different directions, stretching for most of the building. Tascha swore. Stuffing the rest of the bypass into the hole behind the control panel, she began screwing it back on. The sound of the boots got closer. Tascha stuffed the screwdriver into her bag and sprinted for the nearest door. She slid behind the wall just as the soldier rounded the corner into view. As quickly as she could, Tascha dipped into the room. Her job as only partially finished. There was still one screw she hadn’t been able to reinstall. But would the soldier notice?

The same man who had passed Tascha earlier came into view through the gap in the door. He wiped coal dust off of his hands onto his uniform and pressed a button on the elevator. Tascha held her breath as they both waited in silence. The soldier frowned. Looking down at the control panel, he ran his thumb over the hole where the screw had been. His gaze slowly wandered down to the floor. He scanned the hall for the missing screw until his elevator arrived. The soldier shrugged and boarded without a word. Tascha sighed, leaning against a desk for support.

“Hey, good news! My bypass is coming through! I can get you into that elevator shaft no problem,” said the gremlin.

“Glad to hear it,” mumbled Tascha.

She stepped back out into the hall. The buttons on the control panel flickered.

“There. It’s stuck on the top floor. If you hurry, you can get up the shaft before someone else calls for it,” said the technician.

The doors slid open. Cold air wafted out of the elevator shaft. Tascha poked her head inside. The elevator loomed above her. Tascha wasted no time, flinging herself at one of the cables. She shimmied her way up the rope towards her destination. When she was within reach, she launched herself off the wall and grabbed the lip under the doors. She eased her way up, pressing her ear to the doors. She could hear voices outside. They were distant, but the amount of chatter indicated that this would be more difficult than the sublevels she had just been in.

“Open the doors,” whispered Tascha.

The doors slid open. Tascha ducked outside and stuffed herself into the nearest alcove. She expanded the map again to see which direction she needed to head. Aligning herself towards her objective, she slunk to a corner and peeped around the wall. A few soldiers were milling around in the hall, conversing with each other. If they were awake this late at night, they probably weren’t ranking officers. Tascha increased the volume on her earpieces to listen in on what they were saying.
“-learning fast. Faster than anyone I’ve ever heard of,” said one soldier.

“Why does that surprise you?” asked another.

“I don’t know. I guess when you’ve been trained from birth to swing a sword like that, fighting just comes naturally.”

“Damn shame he’s so quiet. He gives me the creeps when he stares at you.”

“I hear that. Blinking wouldn’t kill him.”

The soldiers laughed. One of them stretched.

“I’m going to see if there’s any food left in the canteen. I’ll see you guys at rollcall.”

“Night.”

“Stay warm.”

A soldier broke away from the other two and wandered towards the elevators. Tascha made sure that the room she was flush against was vacant and slipped inside. The room was a sparsely decorated office. A fake plant and a framed picture of a man with his family were the only decorations amidst the dreary office furniture. Tascha inspected the computer on the desk.

“Commander, will this one do?” Tascha asked.

“Negative. We need one with a biometric module. This one won’t have access to their master systems,” said the commander.

“It’s never easy,” sighed Tascha.

She peeped back outside. The first soldier had departed. She could hear the other two conversing down the hall. Looks like it was time to earn her pay.
“I’m going to have to go for it,” said Tascha.

“Understood,” said the commander.

Tascha glanced around the corner again. Just within range. She pulled two demon realm silver throwing knives out of her bag. Taking a deep breath. Tascha cocked her arm back and whipped around the corner.

She heaved the first knife at the soldier on the right. It whistled through the air, embedding itself in his chest. He shuddered and collapsed to the ground.

“Wha-?!” His friend sputtered, leaping away from his friend as he looked around.

Tascha flicked the second knife at him. It struck a glancing blow against his shoulder, clattering to the floor. Tascha sprinted towards him. The man was too startled to scream. Throwing her fist forward, she knocked the wind out of him to keep him quiet. He wheezed, doubling over and grabbing her arm for support. Twisting around behind him, Tascha put him into a sleeper hold. He clawed at her arm for a second before succumbing to unconsciousness.

“Nicely done,” said the commander.

“Could have been better. I shouldn’t have missed that knife,” said Tascha.

“I wouldn’t have missed,” said Ishta.

Tascha glared into space, imagining how the cupid’s dumb face must have looked when she said something that stupid.

“…Anyways, you should frisk them for any sort of security clearance,” said the commander.

“Already on it,” said Tascha. She flipped through their pockets, feeling for anything that felt like a keycard. Her fingers traced over something thin and rectangular. “Got it.”

Tascha pulled out a keycard. The man she had just knocked out stared up at her from the card, as if expressing his disapproval through the thin plastic. Tascha slipped the card into her cleavage and quickly stuffed the two men into a bag. Throwing the sack over her shoulder, she sprinted down the hall to her destination. She pressed her ear to the door. Through the wood, the sound of keystrokes and soft music emanated from the office. Tascha set the sack down and got ready. Raising her fist, she knocked on the door.

“Yes?”

Tascha knocked again. A man sighed. She heard the squeak of an office chair, and heavy footsteps a moment later.

“Geos, I swear if that’s you out there I’m going to court-martial you and kick you out of the base with just your-“

The door swung open. The man’s gaze slowly raised from Tascha’s chest to her face.

“Sorry about this,” Tascha said.

She thrust her leg forward and pulled it back sharply, slipping the man’s legs out from under him. He yelped and fell to the floor. Tascha pounced on him, rolling him into a headlock until he fell asleep. She stuffed him into the bag and tossed the sack inside. Hurrying over to the desk, she jiggled the mouse to keep the monitor from going to sleep.

“Looks like I might not need the card after all. Are you seeing this?” asked Tascha.

“Excellent work. How much do you have access to?” inquired the commander.

“Uhh…” Tascha aimlessly ran the mouse back and forth over the open program, unsure of what she was looking at.

“Just close that, it isn’t important right now,” said the gremlin.

Tascha did as she was asked.

“Click that little file in the bottom right of the screen.”

A circle appeared in her goggles over the icon she was supposed to hit. Tascha did as she was told. The gremlin sucked her tongue a few times and hummed.

“Open that folder, second to last from the bottom,” said the gremlin.

“This one?” asked Tascha, wiggling her mouse over it.

“Yeah.”

Tascha clicked on it. A prompt flashed onto the screen, demanding a thumbprint and a pin.

“Shit. Guess I should have kept him awake…” said Tascha.

“Relax, that’s what we’re here for. As long as you can get his thumb onto the biometric reader, I should be able to cypher the pin before we trigger an alarm,” said the gremlin.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘should?’” asked Tascha.

“Look, the clock is already ticking on that thing so just plug in that skeleton key I gave you and get his thumb ready,” said the gremlin.

“It’s already going?!” asked Tascha.

“Yeah. But we have a minute. Since it started, I mean. Plenty of time,” said the gremlin.

Tascha swore. Fumbling through her bag, she pulled out a tiny black box and jammed the USB cord into the computer. The gremlin hummed to herself while Tascha dragged the guy back out of the bag. Flopping his hand onto the scanner, she mashed his thumb over the red light. A flurry of command windows appeared on the screen. Five digits appeared in the pin line, and the prompt disappeared.

“And we’re in! This should have everything we need. I’d make yourself, and your victims, scarce,” said the technician.

“If you surprise me like that again, I’m going to be under your bed next time you go to sleep,” said Tascha.

“I never sleep. Now get going, the boss has something else she wants you to check out,” said the gremlin.

“Tascha, it’s me,” said the commander, as if her voice would somehow be difficult to distinguish from the shrill gremlin. “I want you to see if you can get into that large building in the center of the compound. That seems to be where most of the holy energy is coming from.”

“Yeesh. That’s a tall order, boss. Not a lot to hide behind between here and there,” said Tascha.

“We really need this, Tascha. Something is amiss. This compound is almost a carbon copy of the other fort, save for that building. They’re hiding something in there, and I want to know what it is,” said the commander.

“Think it might be a relic? I don’t know if I have the equipment to handle one of those,” said Tascha.

“If it is, we’ll mount a full-scale assault and clean out the base. But I really don’t feel like having to sit through another tribunal, so let’s verify before I get dragged back to the Royal Makai.”

“Got it. Any info on what the layout of the building might be?” asked Tascha.

“None. Be careful in there, we don’t want you getting caught out. Ishta says the guards have already changed, so the base should be settled by now,” said the commander.

“Understood. Moving out.” Tascha left the gremlin to do her part of the job. Stuffing the officer back into the sack, Tascha left it under the desk and slipped back out into the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~

Tascha swept over the building with her binoculars, trying to see into the windows. There seemed to be minimal activity within. She chewed her lip, mulling over her options to get inside.

“Tascha, Ishta said she can see a vent near the top of the building on her side. Can you see one on yours?” asked the commander.

“Yeah…” Tascha said slowly.

“I know how you feel about vents-“

“You don’t know shit! I fucking hate going into those!” hissed Tascha.

“Pull yourself together! That might be your only way in. Unless you feel like walking in the front door or busting through a window,” said the commander.

Tascha groaned. “Fine…”

“You can think about what you’re going to spend your paycheck on while you’re in there,” said the commander.

Tascha grumbled to herself while she rummaged through her utility bag. Uncorking a small flask of slime, she coated her palms in the goo and hung over the side of the building. Smacking her palm against the wall, she let go of the roof. The goo kept its hold, even in the frigid temperatures. She worked her way down to the snow-covered ground below. She would have to move quickly. There was little in the way of cover here. If any of the guards on the wall turned around at the wrong moment, she would be seen. Crouching low, Tascha launched herself towards her target.

The powdery mountain snow did nothing to hinder her sprint. Tascha eyed the ramparts above her, keeping a close eye on the soldiers above. None of them noticed her amidst their idle chatter amongst each other or their miserable shivering in the face of the winds sweeping across the tundra. Tascha reached her target, pressing herself flush to the wall. She cursed. The commander was right: it looked like the only viable way inside was going to be the vents. Sticking her slime-covered palms against the building, Tascha began to climb again.

Her arms seared by the time she reached the vent. Luckily for her, no one had raised the alarm. Given how isolated this base was, there was a good chance that none of these soldiers even knew where the alarm system was. Tascha used her electric screwdriver to undo the vent cover, taking care to hang onto the metal grate. She looked inside and grimaced.

“Get in before they see you!” barked the commander.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tascha muttered.

She stuck her head into the shaft. Her body strained against the metal tubing. The walls clung to her as she slowly wriggled herself inside. So very unlike a chimney, vents were uncomfortable and cramped. The magic that let her effortlessly fly in and out of flues granted her only a fraction of the mobility inside ductwork. Until she reached the tubes that carried warm air from the furnace, she was going to be stuck in this half-compacted form.

“Tascha? Are you there? Is something wrong?” asked the commander.

“I’m fine. Just a little… stuck,” Tascha grunted, fighting her way through the duct.

“Oh. Go straight ahead and make a left. Then go- the way down to the gr- our.”

Tascha yanked her arm up to touch her earpiece. “Bad copy, what was that?”

“Go- an- the door-“

Static hissed in Tascha’s ears. She lowered the volume. Something was wrong. She shouldn’t be having communication issues this far into the building. With that booster on the roof, the signal should be stronger than ever. There must be some sort of interference coming from within the building. Tascha did her best to follow the instructions given to her by the commander.

Warm air licked her face. Tascha sighed. The metal around her became more forgiving to her form the farther into the building she got. It still wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than the stretch she had forced herself through on the way in. Through the vents, around corners and down tubes, Tascha crawled. With no way of telling where she was or where she was going, Tascha resorted to the oldest spy tactic to gather information: eavesdropping. Positioning herself over a ceiling vent, she listened in on the hushed sounds of conversation below.

“Did you see him training today? The kid is a monster.”

“Yep. Smacked that paladin so hard he had to go to the infirmary. Maybe that’ll keep his ego in check.”

“I don’t know why anyone would even get snippy with Colonel Scarshale to begin with. You’re more liable to end up in the cooler than to win him over.”

“Yeah, I feel bad for the kid. He always looks miserable. I guess when your entire existence is being managed by the biggest hard ass in the Order, you don’t have much to smile about.”

“Don’t let Scarshale hear that. Gypsin still hasn’t recovered from the time he tried to stop the training.”

“Ah, that was too much. The colonel is hard on him, but the kid’s a hero. I guarantee that he can take whatever Scarshale throws at him.”

Tascha had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. That explained everything. And made her situation significantly more precarious. She could probably take on half the base by herself if push came to shove, but going toe to toe with a hero wasn’t something she had planned for. Wriggling through the vents, she progressed deeper into the bowels of the building. She had to be certain of what was really inside this place. Besides, the presence of a hero didn’t preclude any artifacts. Sliding out a vent cover, Tascha flipped out onto the ground. She should be close. Her instincts could feel the strong presence of holy energy nearby. The source of the barrier shrouding this place was close. Tascha sidled against a wall peeping around a corner. Two guards stood resolutely on either side of a door at the end of a hall. “Door” hardly did the bulwark justice. It was more like a blast shield. The only thing differentiating the metal from the rest of the walls was a thin gap in the middle, and two small windows in each half. Tascha noted a keypad next to one of the guards. She followed the duct she had been in with her eyes. It forked away from the room, continuing on around the bend. It looked like she was going to have to get in the old fashioned way. Drawing her pistol, she flicked the safety off.

“Sorry, fellas,” she muttered.

Whipping around the corner, she fired a shot at the guard on the right. The sub-sonic round made only a small hiss as it left the chamber. The soldier yelped in surprise as the realm silver hit him in the chest. Tascha cursed. Paula wasn’t kidding; these things really did lack stopping power. She fired two more bullets at him. By now, the guard on the left had overcome his initial confusion and was fumbling for his gun. Tascha unloaded the rest of the magazine into him. He collapsed next to his friend, snoring softly.

Tascha exhaled, lowering the smoking barrel of her gun. She swept the casings off the floor and hurried for the blast door. Nudging one of the guards out of the way with her hoof, she peered in through the window.

A young man lay on a small cot inside. He slept soundly despite the lights shining down on him. The room was even more spartan than a normal barracks. The only thing to break the monotony of the cold, stoic metal walls was a footlocker and a small desk with a few papers scattered across it. Tascha stared in wonderment at the boy. He was just as the stories had made him out to be. A cherub-like face with a head of golden hair, atop a body that was already shaping up to be perfectly statuesque. Holy energy radiated off of him in waves. Just standing in his presence made Tascha feel uncomfortable. She was, after all, trespassing near one of the most sacred people of her divine enemy. Taking a few pictures with her goggles, she stuffed the two men into a bag and carried them into the vent.
It occurred to her very quickly that she was not going to be able to drag these men somewhere discreet like she had the last pack of goons. The vent was so tight that she had to struggle to get through it; there was no way she was going to fit two grown men through a tiny space like this. Tascha stopped trying to pull them into the vent, opting to leave them in the corner where she had first found them. She would only be gone a few seconds, after all. Slithering through the ducts, she found her way back to the vent she had entered through.

“Boss, come in, are you there?” asked Tascha.

“Tascha! What the hell happened?!” asked the commander.

“This building must be fortified with lead or something. They don’t want anything coming in or out,” said Tascha.

“We know. That whole building is on its own network. We can’t access any systems from the security terminal you hacked into,” said the commander.

“Yeah, well I found out why. They’ve got a hero in here,” said Tascha.

“WHAT?!”

Tascha winced as the commander’s voice peaked her mic.

“A hero?! There?! Are you sure?” asked the commander.

“I’m sure. It feels like I’m standing inside of a nuclear power plant when I was outside of his door. Sending the pictures now,” said Tascha.

She used her eyes to select and send the pictures. The commander went quiet. Slowly, the sound of panting began to come through her earpiece. Tascha grimaced at the sound of drool hitting the floor followed by a long slurp.

“Tascha, listen to me. Your new objective is to kidnap that hero. Do whatever it takes to get him into me- I mean, out of there. Do you understand? Anything you need, we’ll provide. Just bring him to me!”

An alarm began to blare outside the vent. Tascha peered through the slats into the base below. Soldiers began to stream out of their barracks in various states of dress, looking around frantically.

“Shit,” muttered Tascha.

“What’s that sound?” asked the commander.

“That’s the sound of things getting complicated. I think they found some of my handiwork,” said Tascha.

“Damn. Now of all times… Get back to that hero and grab him before the Order can secure him! I’ll see to it that extraction is standing by,” said the commander.

“Rodger,” said Tascha.

“Good luck in there,” said the commander.

Tascha hung up. Twisting herself to her limits, she turned around in the vent and slithered back once more.

~~~~~~~

Tascha could tell by the sound of orders being barked that grabbing the hero had become a complicated affair. So much for her tentative plan of walking out the front door of the fortress with him. She peered out of a vent at the corridor where the hero was being held.

“Get them out of here!” snapped a gruff voice.

Tascha watched some soldiers carry away their sleeping comrades. Their commander turned to glower at the unconscious guards. A nasty scar ran from the edge of his lip to the bridge of his nose. Half a dozen medals adorned the breast of his impeccably pressed uniform. An imposing hat bearing the insignia of the Order rested upon his salt and pepper hair, completing the intimidating ensemble. It was probably safe to assume that this was Colonel Scarshale.

“I want to know where that demon is, and I want to know now!” roared the colonel.

“Sir?”

The hero hurried into view, still trying to dress himself.

“Aragon. Do you have any idea what has been happening on this base while you slept?” asked the colonel.

“No sir,” said the hero.

“Well, that’s no surprise. A demon has infiltrated this fortress and is running amok on your friends!”

“A demon?!” gasped Aragon.

“Yes, a demon. And you should be handing me its filthy head by now! To invest all this time and effort into training you, and for you not to detect the presence of this abomination with your barrier… do you have any idea how disappointing that is?” the colonel asked coldly.

“Yes sir,” said Aragon, lowering his head.

The colonel huffed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. You already failed to utilize your Chief God given gifts properly, but perhaps you can redeem yourself by showing us the strength of your sword arm. Get to the armory, find a sword, and kill the demon.”

The hero gulped. “Yes sir.”

“Do not fail me,” said Scarshale.

The colonel turned on his heel and walked off with his entourage of guards. Aragon sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Slipping on the rest of his uniform, he began to plod through the hallways. Tascha watched him pass under her. This could be her chance. As long as she could catch him alone, she could just bag him up and find a way out of here. Aragon passed under the vent she was in Tascha cursed. Forcing her body to stretch once more, she turned back on herself to follow her prey to his destination.

~~~~~~~~~

Aragon’s pace quickened as he shook off the remnants of sleep. By the time he reached the armory, Tascha was struggling to keep pace with him. The room she looked into now was filled with racks and racks of swords, guns, knives, grenades, and armor, contemporary and classic. Tascha grimaced at the deadly implements. There were no demon silver edges or silver bullets in any of those…

Aragon selected a sword. An interesting choice. Clearly this kid was being raised classically. His arm whipped down. The sword whistled through the air. Tascha could feel the gust of air pass through the vent she was looking through. Not good. If he could put that much force into a practice swing, the catsuit she was wearing probably wasn’t going to save her. Aragon plucked a walkie-talkie from his belt.

“Colonel, I’m armed. Beginning my hunt,” said Aragon.

Tascha cocked her head. Beginning?

Aragon took a deep breath. Holding his sword with the tip pointing towards the ground, he exhaled and slammed the tip down. His eyes shone golden, staring straight ahead. Tascha felt a wave of holy energy pass over her. Aragon gasped. His glowing eyes snapped to the vent she was hiding in.

“Uh oh…” Tascha said.

Aragon shot towards the vent. Tascha barely had time to scoot back in the duct before he cleaved the wall in half in front of her. She yelped as she spilled out of the vent, landing on the floor of the armory.

“Demon! You’ll not take one more soul!” shouted Aragon.

“Spare me the sanctimonious drivel, kid,” Tascha said, drawing one of her pistols.

She fired a round at Aragon’s head. He flicked his sword up to deflect the shot. Tascha’s jaw dropped. She fired three more rounds, each parried as skillfully as the last.

“I don’t suppose we could talk this over?” Tascha said with an apologetic shrug.

Aragon lunged towards her with the sword held over his head. Tascha flipped backward in time to avoid the blow.

“Come on! I’m serious! I can take you away from here! No more colonel Fuckface!” said Tascha.

“Don’t you dare call him that!” snarled Aragon.

He tried to cleave Tascha in half. Tascha ducked under his swing and swept his legs out with a low kick.

“Be reasonable! You can’t tell me that you actually like that slave driver!” said Tascha.

Aragon looked mortified that he had been struck. He got back up with red in his cheeks, a little less sure of his abilities.

“Shut up! Colonel Scarshale is like a father to me! He’s been with me ever since I was born!” said Aragon.

“And what has he given you?! A training regimen? When was the last time that ‘father’ of yours ever told you he was proud of you, or that he was happy to have you in his life?” said Tascha.

“You don’t know-“

“I know exactly what kind of person he is!” Tascha drew her knife. Feinting in from the right, she provoked a block from Aragon. She seized his wrist with her free hand, twisting his wrist until he dropped the sword. Ignoring his cry of discomfort, Tascha slipped behind him and put him into an arm-bar. “You’re not the first hero I’ve met. I know half a dozen who made it into the demon realms. And they’re all happier for it!”

“You’re lying!” shouted Aragon.

“No, I’m not! There’s more to life than mindless killing and impotent prayers to a god who doesn’t give a damn whether you live or die! And every Order hero comes over to our side once they realize that!” said Tascha.

“A real hero would never fight for demons!” insisted Aragon.

“Most of them don’t! The one who lives up the street from me grows tomatoes for fuck’s sake! And they’re damn good! He makes salsa out of them, and he’s won every block-party competition for the past decade!” said Tascha.

Aragon growled. Tascha could feel the holy energy radiating from him grow stronger. The fingers clasped around his arms started to burn.

“I won’t fall for your lies!” panted Aragon.

“Lies?! How about force?!” said Tascha, twisting his arm a little farther to prove her point. “Do you think that I couldn’t have just stabbed you by now if I really wanted to?!”

Aragon slammed his head back into Tascha. The difference in their height meant that he struck her square in the jaw. At the same time, he unleashed a nova of holy energy. Tascha flew back, toppling over a rack of rifles. Aragon grabbed another sword and walked towards her.

“You’re going to wish you did, beast,” said Aragon.

“If it’s any consolation, I already do,” wheezed Tascha.

Aragon took a swipe at Tascha’s head. Still groggy from the previous impact, she barely managed to duck in time. Something clattered to the ground next to her. She struggled to focus on what it was.

“Ah!” Tascha grabbed the black spiral. “My horn! My beautiful horn! Do you have any idea how much it costs to get this fixed?!” Her eyes shrank when she saw Aragon rearing back for the coup de gras. Tascha threw her horn fragment into Aragon’s face and bolted for the exit.

Aragon roared in anger and stormed after her. Tascha sprinted through the corridor. This was not good. Even worse that that time in Afgoonerstan. Cheeky CQC wouldn’t work again. This kid was young, but he wasn’t a slouch. There was no way that he survived under that colonel all this time without being a quick study. More importantly, he was now brimming with holy energy. If she could get him to tire himself out, she might stand a chance. But that was going to take some work.
Tascha looked behind her. Aragon was gaining fast. She almost screamed when she saw him tearing after her. Rounding the corner, she turned and whipped a knife at the place she anticipated him to be. Aragon skidded around the bend. The knife shot to the inside of his trajectory, clattering against the wall. Time for something more drastic. Tascha kicked open the nearest door. The only thing inside were hastily vacated bunkbeds and some foot lockers. Tascha reached into her bag for a grenade and pulled the pin. Aragon appeared in the doorway a second later, just in time to see Tascha wave goodbye as she slipped into the vent. This time, he was too astonished by the sight of a monster a whole head taller than he was slipping into a vent scarcely bigger than his foot to take a swing at her. He hurried over to the vent to look inside. As he reached the wall where the duct was situated, he noticed the strange, pink sphere resting in one of the footlockers. Tascha felt the explosion rock the vent she was in. Hopefully that would slow him down.

~~~~~~~~

Tascha kicked out the vent near the roof, where she had first come in.

“Command! Pick up!” panted Tascha.

“Tascha! What’s going on?! Do you have the hero?” asked the commander.

“No! Everything has gone tits up, and not in a good way! This place is crawling with soldiers, and now I’ve got a hero trying to kill me!” said Tascha.

“Just hang in there! Backup is on the way!” said the commander.

“Yippee. Now tell me how the hell I’m supposed to get out of here?!” asked Tascha.

“There’s a fleet of snowmobiles in the shed next to the main gate. You can take one of those!” said the gremlin.

“I wouldn’t make it two feet from the entrance before they gunned me down!” said Tascha.

“Not if I cover you,” said Ishta.

“You’re not going to be able to hit anyone below the walls,” said Tascha.

“I can if I fly,” said Ishta.

“Alright, but don’t go getting yourself gunned down on my behalf,” said Tascha.

She flipped out of the air duct. Applying more slime to her palms, she slid down the side of the building into a snow drift below.

“I see her!”

Tascha looked up to the wall. A pair of guards were leveling their rifles at her. They suddenly slumped over, two loud cracks echoing down from above a moment later. Their call hadn’t gone unnoticed. Several other Order soldiers had turned their attention to Tascha. She cursed, drawing her pistols and opening fire as the soldiers began to shoot.

“They don’t pay me enough for this shit!” Tascha roared, dropping two more soldiers with a pair of well-placed shots.

She slid behind a barracks and reloaded her weapons. By now, the entire base was in chaos. Soldiers were shouting and shooting at both her and Ishta, trying to figure out how many monsters were in the base, where they were, and what could be used as cover.

“You!”

Tascha looked up. The hero had rounded the corner in front of her. The golden glow in his eyes was dimmer now. Tascha could see a few streams of mana leaking out into the cool, pre-dawn air. The silver shrapnel in the grenade must have taken him down a notch.

“I won’t let you escape justice, demon!” roared Aragon.

“I’m a krampus, kid!” retorted Tascha.

Aragon charged at her again. Tascha opened fire with both guns. There was no way for Aragon to block the hail of bullets headed his way. Instead, he opted to raise a barrier in front of him. Tascha emptied her guns into the golden wall, cursing all the while. Aragon shoved the wall forward, throwing her against the wall of the barracks. Tascha wheezed as she slammed into the frigid concrete. Aragon leapt at her to deliver a fatal stab. She flicked some of the powdery snow into his face, rolling under the blade. Craning her back, she kicked straight up into his chin, sending Aragon sprawling back.

“Ishta! A little help!” cried Tascha.

“Bastard! There are more of you?!” Aragon growled.

A shot zipped into the snow next to him, he looked into the sky. Ishta was only a pink spec in the distance. The distraction was enough for Tascha to roll away. She ducked and stumbled her way through a hail of gunfire to the next viable cover. Bullets impacted all around her, with only the slimmest corner of a crate to protect her from the men on the walls. Ishta didn’t have enough ammo to take out the whole base. Tascha had to think of something fast before they had to fight through the Order with their bare hands. A roar from the other side of the crate derailed Tascha’s train of thought. She dived into the snow as Aragon cleaved the crate in half.
“Fight me, beast!” Aragon commanded.

“Like hell I will!” Tascha squawked, sprinting away again. The bags slapped her thighs and stomach as she fled. An idea crossed her mind.

“Command! Send all our agents to the furnace room of the northwest building! I’ll meet you there for extraction!” shouted Tascha.

“What?!” the commander shouted.

“Don’t do it, just play along!” hissed Tascha.

Aragon’s footsteps grew closer to her. Tascha whirled around and threw another knife at him. He flicked it aside. One of Ishta’s bullets whistled through his ankle. Aragon yelped. He clapped a hand over the invisible wound, using holy magic to staunch the flow of mana from his leg. Tascha scrambled for a drainpipe on the wall of the building she had landed on. Working her way up to the roof, she rolled up just in time to avoid a few bullets taking chips out of the wall behind her. Tascha panted, taking a second to catch her breath. Looking over the edge of the roof, she saw Aragon lead the charge into the building. She reloaded her guns. Ammunition was running low. Everything would have to be precise from here on out. She tucked them back into their holsters and walked over to the chimney. Time to bag a hero.

~~~~~~~~~~

The trip back down the flue was a breath of fresh air. No bullets, not tight squeeze, just a leisurely sojourn through the smoke and embers back down to the furnace below. She peeked into the furnace room through the grates. Just as she suspected, a cadre of Order soldiers were in position, waiting to ambush anyone who came through the door.

“Why the hell are we in here if the demons are above us?” whispered one soldier.

“Aragon said that he overheard one saying to convene here. We’ll pincer them once they come through that door.”

“But why would they meet in a basement to escape?!” asked the first soldier.

Tascha smirked, pulling her second grenade from her pack. An astute observation.

“Maybe they have a portal in here. Just shut up and be ready,” scolded the other soldier.

Tascha gingerly opened the grate. The soldiers jumped when the grenade hit the floor. Aragon’s eyes went wide.

“Get down!” he shouted.

The soldiers turned away from the blast. Lumps of coal were blasted throughout the room, adding to the chaos. A fine black cloud of dust mingled with the pink smoke billowing from the remains of the bomb. Tascha leapt out of the furnace. By the time Aragon had opened his eyes and shaken off the impact from the grenade, Tascha was standing over him with an open sack.

“Sorry about this, kid. I promise this is for your own good!”

Tascha snapped the burlap sack over his head. She could feel the holy energies strain against her own magic, fighting to free Aragon from his confinement. The bag held, preventing anything from escaping. Tascha grunted and groaned, dragging him towards the furnace. Kicking up the grate, she slipped inside with her prize in tow.

“There she is!”

Bullets ricocheted off the sturdy furnace, spraying coals and embers out of the grate when they struck the searing heart of the heater. Tascha fired a few shots back at the other soldiers, pulling Aragon out of the line of fire and slithering up the chimney to safety.

~~~~~~~~~

Tascha pushed Aragon through the end of the chimney onto the roof. He squirmed and grunted inside.

“Shh, it’ll all be okay. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of,” said Tascha, climbing out of the chimney. “Wait, damn, that sounds kind of sinister if you don’t know what I’m-“

A blinking light caught Tascha’s attention. There was a small brick of plastic explosive next to the chimney. She gasped, picking up Aragon and heaving him away. The detonator beeped once. Tascha grunted in pain as the shockwave flung her away. Her suit shredded in the blast, scattering her gear across the roof. She rolled twice, coming to a stop near the edge of the roof. Aragon flopped down a few feet away, laying still. Tascha moaned. It felt like every bone in her body was broken. A figure slowly stepped into view, swimming back and forth in her murky vision. Tascha slowly pieced together his officer’s uniform as the man drew a high-caliber revolver from his hip and pointed it at her.

“Hello, demon,” he said flatly.

“Scarshale…” Tascha muttered.

“You know my name, good. It’s about time your ilk gave me the recognition I deserve,” said Scarshale.

“You’re nobody,” spat Tascha.

“Me, no. I’m known the world over as one of the finest officers in the Order. You on the other hand, are just a krampus. A glorified chimney sweep!”

Scarshale sneered when Tascha curled her lip.

“Yes, I pieced it together rather quickly when I realized how you were able to move around with impunity, despite all our patrols. A shame that fitting yourself into tight spaces is the only talent your species has. Perhaps your superiors should have sent an octopus,” chuckled Scarshale.

“I was more than enough for your men,” said Tascha.

“Bah. They were fools. You’d be in ribbons if that idiot brat retained any of the knowledge I’ve worked so hard to inculcate into him!” said Scarshale.

“He’s just a kid!” protested Tascha.

“He’s a tool! An implement given to us by the Chief God to do Her bidding on this world!” said Scarshale.

“Her bidding, or yours?” said Tascha.

“My will is that of the Chief God. Why do you think she saw fit to hand that boy to me?” said the colonel.

“I’m sure his parents were thrilled about that,” Tascha said dryly.

“They would have raised him to be a farmer! There are more important things than family, especially when it would end with him becoming some dirt-slathered pig-herder!” said Scarshale.

“You’re a tyrant. I can’t believe you people call us monsters…” said Tascha.

“The murders, mostly,” said Scarshale.

“Aren’t you a little too high in the chain of command to believe the stories of us eating people?” asked Tascha.

Scarshale smirked. “Whatever the Council says is the truth. What happens in reality is of no importance in the face of their mandates.”

“You’re a liar and a narcissist,” Tascha wheezed, clutching her ribs.

“And you’re a dead woman. What’s in that bag, anyways? More of our technology? We found that bypass of yours; I’m sure our boys will be very excited to reverse-engineer that little beauty,” said Scarshale.

“That’s your precious little boy,” smirked Tascha.

Scarshale laughed. “A human couldn’t fit in a sack that size. Well, no matter. Your motives don’t matter anymore. So long… demon?”

Tascha’s damaged earpiece crackled to life.

“Tascha! Whatever you did down there weakened the barrier! We sent in a heavy, just hang on!” pleaded the commander.

“What the hell is that?” asked Scarshale, looking up into the sky.

“Sir, we’ve got incoming!” shouted a soldier through the walkie-talkie.

Tascha flopped onto her back and looked up. A trio of pink parachutes were fluttering open over a crate. The silk did little to stop the descent of the payload, which was hurtling towards the earth at a frightening speed. Tascha could hear the sound of panicked soldiers down below, realizing that there was now a second airborne threat to contend with. The package slammed into the ground in the middle of the compound. Soldiers everywhere ducked in cover. One side of the crate exploded outward in a hail of splinters. The whine of a minigun spooling up began to sound from inside the box.

“HA HA! FIRST MISSION, BABY!”

An ushi-oni burst out of the box. Thick metal plates protected every inch of her, each one bright pink with a crude mantra to Eros scrawled onto it with red paint. She wielded a minigun on one arm, and a grenade launcher on the other, each fed by a belt connecting to a pack on her back.

“WHO’S FIRST?!” bellowed the ushi.

The soldiers overcame their shock. A hail of bullets rained down on her. The ushi squeezed the trigger on her minigun, sweeping her arm across the compound. Soldiers shrank back behind cover to avoid the onslaught of silver being directed their way.

“What the hell is that?!” shouted Scarshale.

“Azmodia, shoot a grenade onto the roof of the northwest building! Two point five second fuse!” shouted the commander.

The ushi paused. She looked up at the building that Tascha was on, still being shot by every soldier in the base. “That one?”

“Yes, that one, Azzy! Shoot!” said the commander.

Azzy took aim with her left arm.

“Fuck-!” Scarshale turned tail and ran.

Azmodia fired a round. It arced onto the roof, clattering against the masonry until it exploded into a small could of pink smoke and shrapnel.

“Tascha! You have to get out of there, now!” said the commander.

“It’s not going to be easy. He removed the bypass on the computer, we can’t hijack their systems anymore,” said the gremlin.

“What the hell do we even pay you for?” huffed Tascha.

She got onto her hands and knees and took a breath. Tascha winced, clutching at her aching chest. Yeah, that was going to need a trip to the unicorn.

“Come on, kid, we gotta get you out of here,” said Tascha, grabbing at the sack Aragon was in.

A crack rang out from across the roof. Scarshale had overcome his nerves and was advancing on Tascha with a drawn revolver. Tascha looked over the edge. There was a snowdrift just below her. Only one way to find out how deep it was.

“Eros, I know that I’ve been single a long time, but if I make it out of this, I promise I’ll download that app that all the houris keep bothering me about,” said Tascha. Clenching the mouth of Aragon’s bag tighter, she rolled off the edge of the roof as a bullet struck the spot she had just been.

Tascha yelped when she hit the snow. Her vision went white. She gasped, flailing around in the powder to find the ground. Her hooves clicked against ice, buried even deeper than she was under the fridged fluff. She surfaced again, spitting out a mouthful of slush. Tascha stuffed her arm back into the drift, pulling out the bag Aragon was contained in. Some of her equipment had landed in the drift too. She grabbed a burlap sack that was still in usable condition, and a throwing knife that had landed in shallow snow. A pistol had landed a few feet away, which she stuffed into the least damaged holster she had. The bag made from the kejourou hair was also there. Tascha used the tip of her throwing knife to lift the bag up. It shuddered. Tascha grimaced and flicked it away into the snow.

“That’ll have to do…” Tascha sighed.

Fortunately, it looked like Azmodia was going to be doing the heavy lifting from here on out. The ushi laughed gleefully as she perforated anything that she thought soldiers might be hiding behind. An Order heavy-infantry man charged at her with a shotgun and shield. The wall of metal he touted was more than enough to stop the stream of realm silver Azzy was slinging. Deciding he was too close for a grenade, Azmodia used both hands to grab the shield and wrench him closer, knocking the man out with a savage headbutt.

“Tascha, if you can open the main gate, you can use some of the vehicles in the depot to escape,” said the commander.

“Yeah, got it. Is the gate control in the security tower?” asked Tascha.

“Yes. We might lose you on the lower floors,” said the commander.

“It’s fine. I think that they’ve got a bigger problem,” said Tascha.

“Me?” chimed Ishta.

“Yeah! You’re kicking ass!” said Azzy.

“Just get to the tower, Tascha,” sighed the commander.

“Copy,” grunted Tascha. Slinging Aragon over her shoulder, she began to limp towards the tower.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tascha pounded on the metal door. An Order soldier opened it up.

“Get inside, before that thing- Oh-“

Tascha yanked the door open and loomed over the man.

“Please, no, I just operate the tower,” said the man.

“How do I open that gate?” growled Tascha.

“I- I can’t tell you that…” he said.

Tascha grabbed him by the collar. “The only way that thing is leaving this compound is through those doors. The faster they open, the sooner the shooting stops.”
“And a hundred more of them will enter!” said the man.

Tascha rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She tossed the man out into the snow and began to ascend the stairs.

The guards inside were mostly unarmed. Those that did offer resistance had aim befitting a desk-jockey. A few quick shots with her pistol was all it took to get to the top of the stairs. The control room was a large, octagonal glass bubble that overlooked the compound and the surrounding terrain. A few of the great, glass panes were pockmarked with bullet holes from Azzy’s less-than-judicious shooting. Tascha set Aragon down, ignoring the last few technicians who fled down the stairs.

“Command, I’m in the tower. Any idea how to-“

A throaty laugh emanated from above her. Tascha looked up. A man in a skin-tight combat suit was in the ceiling, pressing himself between two ridges in the concrete. He dropped down, landing in a low crouch.

“So, the demon finally shows itself,” he said.

“Finally? The alarm has been going for half an hour, buddy. Do you not see what’s happening down there?” asked Tascha, pointing to the rampaging ushi.

The man stood up, adapting a martial arts stance. “I’ve been waiting for you. You may have fought your way through the other peons, but I’m cut from a different cloth!”

“Are you even listening?” Tascha asked irritably.

“My name is Dark Shade, master assassin of the Order!” he said in a deep voice.

“I didn’t ask,” said Tascha.

“I knew you would come here to make you escape, and so, I chose to lie in wait, ambushing you when you least expected,” said the man, covering his face with his hand and peeping through his splayed fingers.

“You call this an ambush?” Tascha said.

Dark Shade unsheathed the katana strapped to his back and flourished it through the air. “Surrender now, and I’ll make your death quick.”

Tascha pointed her pistol at him. He laughed.

“Your bullets will have no effect on me, demon! For you see, I am actually half man, half demon! That’s right! I’m the byproduct of an unholy union between man and monster. Cursed with a terrible power, spurned by friends and foes alike!”

“No, you aren’t. I can’t sense a drop of demonic energy in you. And they aren’t your friends if they spurn you!” said Tascha.

Dark Shade waved his hands in front of him, making a few shrieks as he did. “The dark powers imbued into my soul are mine to command! Trifle with me, and I will tear your very soul asunder with my abyssal magics!”

“You’re just some Zipangaboo with a sword you got at the mall! Aren’t you a little old to be-“

Dark Shade hurled a shuriken at her, knocking the pistol out of Tascha’s hand.

“Oh. Huh, so you’re one of those kinds of guys,” said Tascha.

Dark Shade twirled his sword and chuckled. “Now you see the awesome powers you ridicule. Too late, demon! Your fate was sealed the moment you crossed my path.”
Dark Shade began whipping the blade around erratically. He howled and whooped, slowly advancing towards Tascha. She adjusted her stance, getting ready to fight the lunatic. A blur of pink came into view behind Dark Shade in the window. He stopped swinging his sword, staring straight ahead into the distance. Sinking into a squat, he leapt into the air and did a flip over Ishta as she burst through a window into the control room. Ishta skidded to a halt, flourishing her own sword.

“Tascha, get the payload out of here. I’ll handle this guy,” Ishta said sternly.

“Oh ho! A challenge!” Dark Shade performed a few more exaggerated swings with his blade, leveling it at Ishta’s face. “Come then, ye winged spawn of hell! Try not to die too soon~”

Ishta took a deep breath and shut her eyes. “Forgive me, Eros. I have to use that just this once…”

The two shot towards each other so quickly that their collision blew out the window panes around them. Tascha ignored the fight behind her and turned her attention to the control panel. She snapped her cracked goggles over her eyes.

“Boss, can you see this?” asked Tascha.

“Barely. Flip those switches on the bottom, and hit the red button,” said the commander.

Tascha did as she was told. A siren above the main door blared to life. The titanic metal sheet that formed the entrance to the compound began to slide open at a glacial pace.

“Thanks, Ishta. Good luck with your fight,” said Tascha, giving a small wave to the cupid.

Ishta ignored her, continuing to clutch her sword and yell as pink energy began to envelope her body. Dark Shade was in a similar position, radiating a weird looking purple aura. Tascha slung Aragon over her shoulder and headed for the vehicle depot.

~~~~~~~

By now, Azmodia had taken out almost half of the base. Anyone who had hidden behind anything even semi-permeable had been served a hefty dose of demon silver. Smoldering craters from her grenade launcher adorned every building. It would seem that Azzy’s overeagerness had gotten the better of her, as she had ditched her depleted armaments and resorted to fist fighting the remaining soldiers. Tascha had to step over half a dozen unconscious Order men on her way to the snowmobiles. A screaming man flew over her head, hitting the metal siding of the depot with a loud crash before sliding into the snowbank below.

Stepping into the vehicle depot, Tascha quickly found the key box and helped herself to one of the snowmobile keys. Sticking it into the ignition, she turned the key and let the engine roar to life.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Colonel Scarshale stepped into the doorway of the depot, aiming his pistol at Tascha.

“I didn’t believe you when you said that Aragon was in that bag, but it would seem that you’re telling the truth. An interesting ability; I’ll be sure to add it to the file we have on your species once your body has been left for the ravens.”

“I’ve never met a man who loves the sound of his own voice as much as you do,” said Tascha.

“Apologies, I imagine civility and respect are not things your kind engages in,” said Scarshale.

“Some of them do. The one out there doesn’t. Azzy, over here!” said Tascha.

A man flew screaming through the air, flying at Scarshale. The colonel ducked out of the way as the man tumbled through the snow where he had been.

“Sorry! I’m a little busy here!” grunted Azmodia over the radio.

“Must the fates themselves meddle with this execution?!” seethed Scarshale.

The control tower exploded in a flash of purple and pink light. Scarshale was shaken off his feet.

“It would seem so!” said Tascha.

She gunned the snowmobile, driving it towards Scarshale. He dove out of the way to avoid being flattened by her as she made her escape. The colonel made a few unsteady shots at her as she slipped out of the gate.

“Outstanding, Tascha! The evacuation zone is a few miles south, get there fast, Order jets have been scrambled!” said the commander.

Coordinates appeared in Tascha’s cracked goggles. She squinted at the fractured map to find her bearing.

“Got it,” said Tascha. “See you then.” She revved the snowmobile, urging it to go faster as she sped through the snow.

The sun was up by now. Light glistened off the snow, creating innumerable shimmers in Tascha’s eyes as she sped towards the trees. The sound of pitched combat grew fainter.

“What about the others?” Tascha asked.

“They’ll be fine. Ishta can fly and Azmodia has spent most of her life in the mountains. She’d probably gain weight if we left her there,” said the commander.

A bullet whistled past Tascha’s head. She ducked, leaning over the handlebars. Turning back, she saw the colonel speeding after her on his own snowmobile. Tascha swore. She flew into the trees, unwilling to drop her speed lest she be shot by her pursuer.

Scarshale may have been a self-aggrandizing coward, but he sure knew how to drive a snowmobile. His skill was compounded by his natural advantage of not having to cut through the powder snow like Tascha did. No matter how hard she tried to elude him, he always seemed to be gaining on her. The bark of the tree next to her exploded as another bullet slammed into it. Aragon began to kick and squirm again. Tascha patted the bag and hushed him.

“Shh! Just stay down! Your dear leader is going to hit you if you keep thrashing like that!” said Tascha.

She pulled out her own pistol. Looking back, she fired a few shots at the colonel. He swerved behind the cover of a few trees. The gun in Tascha’s hand clicked loudly, the slide jamming open. Tascha swore, looking contemptuously into the empty weapon. Scarshale dipped back into her track and pointed his gun at her.

A searing pain erupted in Tascha’s arm after the next gunshot. She cried out, jerking the snowmobile to the side as the bullet struck her arm. The snowmobile dipped into a tree well, flying up the other side and into the air. Tascha and Aragon were ejected into the snow, with the machine landing on its side a few feet away. The colonel rode over to them and stopped, taking his time to disembark from his machine. Tascha fumbled for her last throwing knife. She weakly grasped it in her non-dominant hand and tossed it at Scarshale. He sidestepped the lazy attempt to subdue him and wandered over to Aragon’s bag.

“This defeat of yours is the start of a new, very long-lasting precedent,” said Scarshale, opening the bag.

Aragon tumbled out, looking quite confused. He looked up at Scarshale, then down at Tascha.

“You!” he said, looking at Tascha. “And you!” he said, pointing to Scarshale.

“Yes, once again I’m here to compensate for your shortcomings,” sighed Scarshale.

Aragon glared at him. “What’s going on?!”

“You got sloppy. The demon put you in that sack. I saved you. It’s so simple that even someone like you can understand,” growled the colonel.

“That’s not what I mean. I heard everything,” said Aragon.

Scarshale narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“On the roof. I heard what you said! You told me my parents were dead! Are you saying that you kidnapped me?!” said Aragon.

“That’s what you’re worried about?! Not the demon who abducted you?!” said Scarshale.

“So far, she’s been more truthful with me than you have!” said Aragon.

“Now is not the time for one of your self-righteous tantrums! That thing is trying to kill you, and you need to dispatch of it before it turns the tables on us!”

“Turns the tables-?” Aragon looked down at Tascha. She looked away in shame, clutching her bleeding arm.

“She’s no threat to us anymore! And if she were really trying to kill me, why wouldn’t she have done so already? She had me dead to rights in the armory. And she could have tossed me off the roof when I was in that bag or shot me at any time! But she-“

“You’re a hero, she wanted to savor the taste of your flesh! She let you live and made the mistake you won’t!” Scarshale took a knife from his belt and thrust it into Aragon’s hands. “Kill her. Now!”

Aragon looked at the knife. He looked at Tascha.

“You don’t have to do this, kid. You’ve got all the clues, just put it all together,” pleaded Tascha.

“Don’t listen to her!” insisted Scarshale.

Aragon clenched the knife. “Then how about I listen to you?”

“Yes! Good, Aragon! Finally, some initiative!” Scarshale said gleefully.

“Initiative, huh? How about I take some initiative and think for myself for once?” Aragon said, stepping towards the colonel.

“What?” Scarshale said, taking a step back.

“You’ve told me my whole life that monsters were blood-thirsty, man-eating savages. But when you were arguing with her on the roof, you implied that that was just Council propaganda. She told me monsters lived in harmony with the men they abduct. So far, she’s fought for her life to get me out of that prison-“

“Prison?! Really?” blustered Scarshale.

“Yes, prison! That’s what it was. Four concrete walls that I wasn’t allowed to leave!” said Aragon. “She fought for her life to get me out, taking extra caution to keep me safe while she did! You’ve been shooting at her while I’ve been on the back of that snowmobile with no regard for my life!”

“I was saving your life! And I’m an excellent shot!” said Scarshale.

“You’re a liar! You stole me from my family, and you don’t give a damn about my life! You called me a tool!” roared Aragon.

“You’re a tool of the Chief God!” shouted Scarshale.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s tool! I want to be happy and live my own life!”

Aragon was panting now from all the shouting. His red, youthful face stared up at his mentor. Scarshale’s emotions slowly drained out of his face, until he bore the muted, appraising expression that only officers could conjure.

“Is this really the path you want to walk down, Aragon? Do you know how many people you’re disappointing right now? How many people you’re betraying by not slaughtering that abomination?”

“I’m not sure I know much of anything after today,” said Aragon.

“I’ll give you one last chance. Kill the demon, return to the fortress, and this can all be forgiven,” Scarshale said gently.

Aragon looked at Tascha.

“Aragon… Please,” Tascha begged.

Aragon’s eyes softened. He stiffened his lip and turned back to Scarshale. Extending his arm, he let the knife fall out of his hand into the snow.

“Kill her yourself. I trained to protect the vulnerable, not to be an executioner,” Aragon said coldly.

Scarshale’s lip quivered in anger. A vein in his head throbbed. The leather of his clove creaked as he tightened his grip on the revolver.

“You… You insolent brat! Do you have any idea how much time I’ve invested into you?! All the money that was spent to raise you into what you are?! All the shame and humiliation you stand to bring me with this insurrection?!”

Scarshale pointed the gun at Tascha again. Aragon stepped between them, arms splayed out to protect her.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” said Aragon, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

Scarshale laughed maniacally. “Oh, I was planning to, boy! Do you really think that you’re the only hero in the Order lands?! I could sweep the countryside for a dozen whelps like you and be back in that fortress for supper! You’re not as special as you think yourself to be, boy! Mark my words: you’ll be replaced by a newer, more obedient pawn soon enough!”

Scarshale swept the barrel up to Aragon’s face. The young man gulped and stepped backwards. Movement on the back of Scarshale’s snowmobile caught Tascha’s attention. Something fell off the back and into the snow behind the colonel. It flopped towards the trio, rooting through the snow as it went.

“You know, I’ve trained a lot of heroes in my time, Aragon, but you really were the most-“

Scarshale’s monologue was cut short. The thing in the snow shot up onto the colonel’s head. Now that it was out of the snow, Tascha recognized it as the bag made out of the kejourou’s hair. Scarshale screamed as the thing engulfed his face. The bag inflated and deflated with his breath, the walls of the bag sinking into his screaming mouth as he breathed. He clawed at the sack, firing wildly into the air two times before dropping the revolver in a desperate bid to get the bag off his head. The sack opened enough for his hands to slip inside when he made another swipe at the drawstring. From there, the sack worked him inside, undulating around the panicking officer until his boots disappeared into the fabric. The bag bulged and heaved as Scarshale struggled in vain to extricate himself from the confines of the bag. The sack inflated and sighed, letting a small burp out of the top.

Tascha and Aragon stared at the sack with their mouths agape. Aragon whipped around to Tascha, his anger dissipating when he realized that she was just as confused as he was.

“What the hell is that?!” asked Aragon.

“I didn’t know it would do that either!” said Tascha. She grimaced at the bag. “And I really wish I didn’t see it do that…”

“And you swear that everything you told me was the truth? Mamono really do coexist with humans?” asked Aragon, inching towards the gun.

“I swear, I swear! Look, Aragon, please, just… just give me a chance to- fuck!” Tascha clenched her arm. With the adrenaline wearing off, the blood loss was starting to make her woozy.

“You’re hurt, let me take a look at it,” said Aragon.

“No, no, no, wait-!” Tascha scooted away from him.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” said Aragon. He gently grabbed Tascha’s arm.

She yelped. “That’s not what I-“

Aragon let some of his magic flow into her. Her skin began to burn.

Tascha yelped. “No holy magic!”

“Oh!” Aragon let go of her arm. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Tascha inhaled through her teeth, struggling to keep pressure on the wound. “I know you didn’t, kid.”

She laid back in the snow. Aragon sat beside her, taking over her arm so that Tascha could rest. She shut her eyes and clenched her teeth.

“I uh, I never got your name,” said Aragon.

“Tascha,” said the krampus.

“That’s… not very demonic,” said Aragon.

Tascha snorted. “Get used to it. Everything you know about us is wrong.”

Aragon chewed his lip. “Is it really everything?”

“Yeah, it is. Demons are all about love these days. Been that way for a long time, actually. The times when we ate people are a few millennia behind us,” said Tascha.
“Love? Really? How did demons become obsessed with love?” asked Aragon.

“It’s a long story. The short answer is that we got a change in leadership, and started seeing things a different way. Your Chief God still needs you to fear us though, because she wouldn’t have any followers if humans knew the truth,” said Tascha.

“Must have been a great leader,” said Aragon, looking at the bag with his former master in it.

“The Demon Lord? She is. That’s why I follow her,” said Tascha. The krampus smirked. “And because she pays so damn well.”

“She’s still alive?” asked Aragon.

“Yep. The Demon Lord is still kicking after all these years. Stronger than ever. Nice lady,” said Tascha.

“Wow…” Aragon said.

Tascha flexed her hand. The lack of blood was making her fingers tingle. She sighed.

“Speaking of a change in leadership, are you sure you’re okay with how things turned out?” Tascha asked.

Aragon adjusted himself to sit more comfortably beside her. “I think I am.”

“You think?”

“I don’t really know much else. There’s not much to compare to. Most of my life was inside that compound,” shrugged Aragon.

“Fair enough,” grunted Tascha.

“I doubt it could be worse than this,” chuckled Aragon.

Tascha pursed her lips. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. Or, it might be. For all I know you’re buttering me up so that you can peel my skin off,” said Aragon.

Tascha shuddered. “Don’t talk like that.”

“You’re kind of squeamish for someone who shoots people,” smirked Aragon. “Anyways, I can’t pretend I loved it in there. Scarshale kept me on a strict regimen, so I didn’t get to interact with many people. He never let me read much of anything besides the scriptures and a few volumes on war.”

“Did they let you do anything fun in there?” asked Tascha.

Aragon shook his head and smiled. “Some of the guys liked the sparring sessions, but I never cared for combat that much. For me, it’s always been about helping people. It just feels right, you know? Maybe that’s why the Chief God gave me all this power. If I have to fight to help someone, so be it, I guess, but I won’t enjoy it.”

Tascha snickered and shook her head. “You’re going to be quite popular in the demon realms.”

Aragon blushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Monsters just eat that kind of sentiment up,” said Tascha.

Aragon nodded. He sighed, looking up at the sky.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tascha.

“I learned that everything I thought was true was a lie, and everything I thought was a lie was actually true, all in one day,” said Aragon.

Tascha looked up at the sky with him. She sighed. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Go to the demon realms, I guess,” said Aragon. He looked down at her. “What are they like?”

“The demon realms? Like the non-demon realms, but with more demons,” said Tascha.

“Oh…” said Aragon.

“You don’t have to go,” said Tascha.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d sure appreciate it if you did come with me, but let’s be real: I’m in no position to force you to do anything. And even if I was, I’d say you risking your life to protect me warrants a favor or two,” said Tascha.

Aragon shook his head. “No. I spent too long in that base.” He closed his eyes, letting the morning sun warm his face. He looked up into the gradient of colors above him. “You know, I get to go outside plenty, but this is the first time I’ve looked at the sky and felt like I wasn’t trapped.”

Tascha smirked. “Can’t put a price on freedom.”

The two of them sat there in silence for a while. Aragon removed his hand. Tascha’s bleeding had stopped. She held her arm as still as she could, limping towards Scarshale’s snowmobile.

“Come on. If you’re serious about getting out of here, we need to be gone by the time your Order flyboys get here. Our ride out is a few kilometers south of here,” said Tascha.

“I can drive,” said Aragon. He looked down at the sentient sack. “What do you want to do about… this?”

“I’d love to leave that here and pretend that it didn’t happen, but mamono can’t just let people die. We’ll take him with and get him back to his wife.”

“Scarshale wasn’t married,” said Aragon, furrowing his brow.

“He is now,” snorted Tascha.

“To a bag?”

“No, who the bag was made from. I’ll explain on the way,” said Tascha, taking the rear seat.

Aragon got on the snowmobile and started the engine. Tascha wrapped her good arm around his waist. His breath hitched.

“Feeling a little nervous?~” teased Tascha.

“I’m fine,” said Aragon.

Tascha could see redness creep into his face. Her lips curled into a smile.

“You know, I saw you ogling my breasts while you were pressing on my arm…” said Tascha.

Aragon flinched. “I- I didn’t mean to! They were just… there!”

Tascha laughed. “Hey, relax kid. That’s what the cleavage window is for. I know they look good. Don’t worry, you’ll get more than a peek soon enough.”

Aragon gulped. “A-are there more women like you in the demon realms?”

“Kid, you have no idea. Let me just say this: anything you’ve dreamt of, we’ve got it. And you’re going to get it,” said Tascha.

Aragon sat frozen in the seat for a second. Tascha had to squeeze him to get him to snap back to reality.

“R-right. Well, I’ll uh… look forward to… meeting women,” stammered Aragon.

“Oh, right, you probably haven’t talked to many women,” said Tascha.

“No…” Aragon said shamefully.

“Hey, that’s no problem. They’ll think you’re cute,” said Tascha, ruffling his hair.

Aragon smiled. He urged the snowmobile over to the bag with Scarshale in it. Tascha picked it up, laying him across the back of the snowmobile. He had worn himself out by now, making only soft whimpers that were drowned out by the sound of the engine. Aragon started towards the landing zone.

“Hey, do you remember what he said about my parents?” asked Aragon.

“Yeah,” said Tascha.

“Do you think that they’re still alive?”

“Probably. I don’t think the Order would have any reason to kill them,” said Tascha.

“Do you think… do you think that they think about me?” Aragon asked.

“Every day,” Tascha said firmly.

“… Do you think that I might be able to meet them some day?” Aragon asked so softly that Tascha could scarcely hear him.

“Kid, if we can break open that fortress with a handful of monsters, I think we can track your family down,” said Tascha.

Aragon smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“And you might just have a family of your own by then…” muttered Tascha.

“What?”

“Nothing. Take us to that field off in the distance,” said Tascha.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tascha!”

Tascha looked at the demon hurrying towards her.

“Major Hellstrom, to what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Tascha.

“I was just coming to see you in the infirmary. I heard that you got roughed up pretty well on that last mission.”

“Bah. Nothing the unicorns couldn’t fix,” said Tascha, rolling up her sleeve to show off the scar from Scarshale’s bullet.

“You’re not going to get that healed?” asked Hellstrom.

“Nah, I like collecting these,” said Tascha, rolling her sleeve back down. “Did the commander send you?”

The demon smirked. “No, she’s still “debriefing” that hero you brought back. From what I’ve heard when I pass by her quarters, he’s been more than willing to “divulge” everything he knows~”

“I hope she can still operate missions while pregnant,” said Tascha.

“I’m sure she’ll be in that command room until her water breaks. Anyways, she did want you to have this,” Hellstrom handed Tascha a check.

Tascha looked over the numbers and whistled.

“She said something about a bonus, but she had Aragon at that point and the drool coming out of her mouth was making it hard to understand her,” said Hellstrom.
“I understand this just fine~” said Tascha, tucking the check into her pocket. “Say, did the other two make it back yet?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact they did. Azmodia got picked up by helicopter a few days after she was deployed, and Ishta flew back with her new husband shortly after your plane landed.”

“New husband? Is it that weirdo?” asked Tascha.

“What’s important is that they love each other,” the demon said, rubbing her arm and looking at the floor.

“Their kid is going to be bullied so hard,” snorted Tascha.

Hellstrom smirked. “If everyone hasn’t said so already, we really are grateful for your work. Not many people could have held it together down there.”

“Happy to serve,” said Tascha, snapping into a lopsided salute.

“You know, the offer is always on the table if you’d like some more permanent employment…” said Hellstrom.

“No offence, ma’am, but I’ve been hearing that offer since I first stepped into this place. Maybe someday I’ll take one of these cots, but not right now.”

The demon nodded. “I understand. By the way, did you uh… see anyone who looked appealing in that base?”

Tascha’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just that we did download the personnel files from that base. If you did happen to see someone who you thought was handsome, or brave, or cute, we could always track them down for you…” said Hellstrom, inspecting the ceiling tiles.

“Pass. Although, I do owe it to Eros to download that dating app…” groaned Tascha.

“That’s wonderful! I’m sure your wedding would be one for the history books!” said Hellstrom.

“Yeah, well, it’s not going to be anytime soon,” blushed Tascha.

Hellstrom chuckled. “Of course. I’ll let you be on your way, then. I’m sure your car has missed you.”

“I sure missed her,” said Tascha.

The major saluted. “Good luck out there soldier.”

“Likewise. Give my regards to the commander,” said Tascha.

“Your guess is as good as mine as to when we might see her next,” said Hellstrom.

“Nine months or so, I’d imagine,” smirked Tascha.

They shared a laugh. Tascha waved goodbye and headed out into the parking lot. Stretching her arms over her head, she skipped towards her car, thinking of all the things she was going to purchase with her hard-earned cash. Tascha gasped.

“MY BABY!”

Tascha fell to her knees beside her car. A small dent had been made in the driver’s side door. Tascha desperately licked her finger, trying to rub out the dent. The succubus attendant laughed. Tascha glared at her.

“You did this…” seethed Tascha.

“Actually, it was a visiting officer. There was a convention here, and the only space available was next to your car. Her passenger nicked your door when she got out because it was so tight,” said the succubus, casually inspecting her fingernails.

Tascha moaned plaintively and hugged her car. “I’ll never leave you again…”

“If you hurry, you can get it into a body shop before closing,” said the succubus.

Tascha threw open the door. She slipped inside and started the engine. Giving the middle finger to the succubus, she sped out of the parking lot to go get her car repaired. Tascha glanced back at the base and smiled in spite of herself. One really couldn’t ask for better coworkers.