When Strom mentioned bringing in the Commandant herself to hear my case, I never once believed he could actually pull it off. Lotha Bluetusk was widely regarded as the deadliest fighter alive—tasked with leading the Imperial Federation's Champions in defending against the relentless threats facing us. She should have been on the front lines, not swooping in to deal with what amounted to a wildly overzealous and corrupt TSA supervisor.

Not that I wasn't relieved the situation had spiraled wildly out of control. I'd been bracing to handle a few tipsy noblewomen who might get handsy, not end up bound and assaulted before I even had a chance to don Krenk's colorful outfit. It wasn't as though I couldn't have escaped, but using my unique abilities would've opened a different and far darker Pandora's box. Better to take my chances with a horny kitsune trying to raise a mast she had no chance of than face the fallout of revealing that secret. Not like it was the first time I've been assaulted, far from it.

Lotha's face was lit with unrestrained triumph, as though she'd just secured her ninth consecutive victory at the world dueling championships. She practically radiated smug satisfaction as she loomed over her prey, her booming voice dripping with mockery.

"Well, well, Miss 'I've been an officer longer than you've been alive, I'm better than some up jumped warband leader,'" she taunted, each word accentuated by the ripple of her powerful muscles. "Nothing to say for yourself now, eh? Couldn't keep your grubby paws to yourself like a decent officer, could you?"

A pained groan escaped the Kitsune Bannerlady, muffled against the dented table.

"What was that?" Lotha jeered, pressing the Kitsune's face deeper into the cold metal surface. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my fist pounding your head."

With a twisted sense of glee, the orc Commandant drove the Kitsune's head forward again, the table's metal screeching under the force. Each impact echoed through the cramped interrogation room, a brutal punctuation to Lotha's triumphant assault.

My hands trembled as I tried to straighten myself up, every muscle taut with leftover adrenaline. Deep down, I realized I was far more shaken than I'd let myself believe. It was hard not to be unsettled, standing so close to this living embodiment of warfare. I'd once watched a vid of Lotha pummeling a chimera to death with its own severed head, an abomination of High Elven creation the size of a bus. She was a legend come to life, which made her presence here all the more surreal.

"Thank you," I managed, voice cracking from the strain of all that had just happened.

The orc warrior blinked, halting her brutal onslaught as though waking from a blood-hazed dream. Mid-slam, she suddenly realized she wasn't alone in the room. She fixed me with a look that held both curiosity and bewilderment.

"Thank you," I repeated. "You saved me from her. Truly…from the breath of my lungs to the essence of my core, thank you." It was the formal threefold thanks, a phrase any Kindred man would only use with utmost sincerity, but I meant every word of it.

Lotha froze, looking as startled as a child caught red-handed in the cookie jar. A hot flush of bluish color raced across her green cheeks, creeping down her neck in a full-body blush. Seeing the towering, red-haired Amazon squirm with embarrassment was bizarrely disarming.

"N-No problem, citizen. Just doing my job," she replied stiffly. Then, as if just realizing she was still gripping the kitsune by the head, she held the unconscious woman aloft and turned to me in awkward confusion. "Would…would you like a turn?" she asked hesitantly.

I grimaced, shaking my head. "I'll pass, but…thanks for the offer," I said, equally unsure. Too many times had I been on the receiving end of violence to ever feel comfortable dishing it out.

Lotha looked away, her mind clearly scrambling for the right words. "Are…are you going to cry?" she finally asked, sounding more anxious about the tears than I was.

"No," I said gently. "Would you feel better if I did?" I forced a small smile, unsure whether that was what she wanted.

She paled, visibly horrified by the very idea. "Please don't," she blurted. "It's just…you're not reacting how a man usually does after being…uh…" Her words trailed off as she glanced at the dented table and the kitsune she still had in her grip.

I sighed. "Unfortunately, this isn't my first rodeo with this kind of thing. If I broke down every time it happened, I'd never get anything done. I refuse to let the ugliness of this world keep me from living my life on my own terms."

Relief flickered across her features. "Good, good. Always get back up, that's what I say. Never let them see you sweat," Then, as if remembering something important, she cleared her throat. "Do you need medical attention? I can get the healers here faster than you'd believe."

Before I could answer, a small, panting mousekin girl burst into the room, eyes wide with worry. "Commandant, please," she gasped between breaths, "don't run ahead like that. None of us can keep up when you dash off!"

"Shit, he's cute," I heard the newcomer mutter under her breath as she performed the Dragoons' formal salute—a firm bump to the chest where the heart lay. She was a slight mousekin girl, and everything about her screamed nervous energy. Her large, round glasses magnified her eyes so they seemed to fill half her face, and her oversized mouse ears shot straight up the moment she stepped fully into the room, taking in the scene before her.

The sight must have been jarring: a dented metal table, a groaning Kitsune Bannerlady sprawled on the ground, and the towering Orc Commandant standing over her prisoner like a conqueror. The mousekin's ears twitched, and her whiskers quivered with agitation as she turned to Lotha.

"Commandant," she exclaimed, voice pitched in exasperation, "please don't tell me you ran in here, attacked a fellow officer with no witnesses, and then kept attacking her after she was subdued!"

Lotha, still gripping the unconscious Kitsune's collar, tried for nonchalance. "No," she lied outright, punctuating her denial by tossing the groaning woman to the floor with a heavy thump.

The mousekin pressed a hand to her forehead, as though she could ward off the headache already forming. "You can't do things like this, Commandant. What about the Advocates? Everyone knows you two hate each other. No one is going to believe the word of an emancipated man from Aspects-knows-where." She paused, realizing her slight. "No offense," she added, turning to me with a small, apologetic shrug.

Lotha snorted, waving off the concern. "Come on, Mabbs. Once we get Tomae in front of the Tribunal, Vengeance will smite her on the spot. She's a nasty piece of work, and everyone knows it." As if to emphasize the point, she gave the insensate Kitsune a swift kick in the ribs.

Mabbs grimaced. "It's not going to reach the Tribunal, Ma'am. The Nipponese Cultural Association and the Beastkin Clans will rally to her defense. Then, the brass will get involved because she was the first Kitsune to join the armed forces. You know how those fossils from the Great Undying Wars get about soldiers who served in their era."

Lotha pointed an accusatory finger at the camera bolted high on the wall. "We've got footage from the Link, though."

Mabbs glanced up at the black, unlit lens and let out a long sigh. "It's turned off. You would've known that if you hadn't barged in here like a pissed-off cyclops."

A fresh wave of anger surged through me. It was all too easy to imagine how this would unfold behind closed doors: the higher-ups would protect their own, powerful nobles would pressure the system, and deals would be cut in back rooms. That kind of hush-up was an old story in my previous life, where powerful men evaded repercussions daily and here, noble women held even more sway in society than men had in my old world.

"Is she really going to get away with what she's done?" I asked, my voice betraying the anger still coiled in my gut.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Mabbs cast me a worried glance. "Somewhat," she said, hesitating. "We can probably force a transfer and another demotion, but that's about it."

"She was already demoted," Lotha growled. "Put somewhere she couldn't do any harm, and yet here we are."

A short, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "That's obviously going real well," I said under my breath, unable to mask the scorn in my tone.

A gentle rap on the splintered doorframe announced the cautious return of the Valkyrie Shieldbearer from earlier. She stepped inside, armor glinting under the harsh overhead light, and straightened to give a formal salute, fist thudding against her chest.

"Ma'am, I know I and several of my fellow Dragoons would be willing to testify. We've suspected the Bannerlady for some time, but never had enough evidence to act," she said in a low, steady voice.

"See, Mabbs?" Lotha exclaimed, her tusked grin fierce. "The good old rank and file won't let us down."

Mabb, arms folded and tail twitching with nerves, merely shook her head. "It helps, but it's still circumstantial at best," she muttered.

I took the moment to point at the spilled Kava pooling on the floor. "Test the Kava. I'm pretty sure she spiked it with something."

Perking up, Mabb pushed her glasses higher on her small nose. "I might be able to work with that," she said, a note of hope coloring her tone.

"Everything will work out in the end," Lotha declared, almost giddy. "Taimi will be pleased, and the bitch will get what she deserves."

But the Valkyrie, confused, frowned at the sticky mess. "I brewed that Kava myself. I didn't put anything in it."

"Then she must have done it when you weren't looking," I explained, jerking my chin at the unconscious Bannerlady, "or else she dominated you to make you think you hadn't."

Lotha rounded on me. "What did you say?" she demanded, her emerald skin darkening with a sudden flush.

Mabb steadied her quivering whiskers, focusing on me with grim intent. "Would you mind repeating that last part?"

I swallowed, feeling the weight of every eye in the room. "It was subtle at first, but she was trying to dominate my will, push me to beg for the privilege of pleasing her. I've...had more experiences with mind control than anyone should, so I was able to brush it off. That's when she got really nasty." My voice wavered despite my efforts, and I found myself staring at the floor, heat creeping up my neck in shame at the admission.

No one likes telling strangers they had experience being dominated and raped.

"Shieldbearer! Grab spikes, now, before she comes to!" Lotha roared, her voice echoing in the cramped room.

"Yes, ma'am!" the Valkyrie answered, snapping off another salute and disappearing down the corridor at a brisk jog.

"Mabbs," Lotha barked, turning her attention to the mousekin.

"Already on it," Mabbs replied, her tiny hands flying across a Link with astonishing speed, tapping commands faster than I'd ever seen.

Meanwhile, the towering orc yanked the unconscious Kitsune into a chokehold, pinning her arms at an angle that left her helpless to speak or move. The sheer power emanating from Lotha was a reminder of her status as one of the most formidable warriors alive.

"Consorting with High Elves... I never thought even you would sink so low," Lotha hissed, her golden eyes blazing. "You're a disgrace to the uniform, a disgrace to every Kindred in this Federation. You're not escaping this, no matter what you try. I'll make sure your head ends up mounted on the palace gates."

I was ushered out of the interrogation room with careful politeness, a gesture meant to shield my supposedly delicate eyes from what came next. I didn't protest. I had no desire to witness the gruesome ritual of spiking a mage—one of the few ways to neutralize a spellcaster's power. The procedure was far too reminiscent of the "milking" I'd once been subjected to, an ordeal I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Outside, chaos reigned as more Dragoons swarmed in. A nervous healer insisted on examining me while I gave a statement to the guards, and all the while, I forced myself to ignore the agonized shrieks coming from the Kitsune. Even after she was subdued, they needed more Dragoons than I'd seen at the entire checkpoint to finally lead her away. I couldn't bring myself to look.

"This has certainly been an experience," I said to the guard as the healer left, my voice raw with lingering tension, "but can I leave now? I've wasted enough time on this mess."

The mousekin girl who'd come running after Lotha dismissed the remaining guards and approached me, her whiskers twitching with concern. "Are you really going on to the gala after all this?" she asked softly. "No one would blame you if you just went home to rest."

I shook my head, mind already set. "I'm not attending the gala as a guest, I'm working a stand. My bosses need me, and I promised I'd meet them once everything was sorted out. I keep my word."

She tilted her head, surprise evident in her round eyes. "You're not a guest? I assumed you were going with Quickwit, the way she barged in and demanded your release."

"Who?" I started to ask, but a familiar voice answered.

"She means me, Wick," said a smaller figure stepping out from behind Lotha's towering form. Tufts of green hair peeked around the orc's massive knees. A halfling, someone I knew only by her online handle.

"Scruffy?" I repeated, piecing the puzzle together at last. "Or should I say…Taimi Quickwit?" Her real name tumbled out like an accusation, Mechanist Designate of the Gnomish Circle, Master Tinker, and reputedly the most powerful Technopath alive.

"Surprise," she offered nervously, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she ventured a shy smile.

----------------------------------------

Codex

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