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The sun was barely breaking over the mountains as Hyena Brigade Company III of the Kiyanti Home Guardsmen assembled on the parade ground for morning muster. As their commanding officer, Lieutenant Kruger, arrived, a suppressed giggle rippled through the ranks, for they had all heard the delicious rumor that the perpetually-virginal-by-contract Lieutenant had been caught in flagrante delicto with a woman in his quarters the night before. And not just any woman either. An American sheyena said to be the great-granddaughter of the Duchess of Rackenroon Herself. Not a bad bit of business for an undersized, bespectacled Brigade officer! It had been only hours, but already his exploits were the stuff of legends.

Lieutenant Kruger knew that something like this would happen. He had been dreading this muster ever since the MPs had escorted the now-termed "exotic foreign dame" from his quarters. There were no charges filed as it had been quickly determined that she was there on wholly innocent grounds, regardless of how things had appeared at the time. She was, after all, Lt. Kruger's betrothed. They weren't even trying to jump the gun on that. The Lieutenant had fallen victim to a prank where someone had taped some pornographic materials to the ceiling of his quarters. The two of them were caught in the act of clambering all over the bed to try and tear down the offending smut. Naturally minds and mouths raced with the scandalous possibilities of them being discovered in such a position.

Pulling himself up to his full, if unimpressive, five-foot-two-inch height, the Lieutenant said in his usual clipped English accent, "Good morning, lads!"

The response came in a schoolyard sing-song, "Goooooood MORN-ing Lieu-ten-nant Kruuuuuugerrrrrr!" as numerous winks and nudges were exchanged.

The Lieutenant drew a sharp, deep breath. "Ah, so you've heard," he muttered.

His grinning platoon cackled back at him. Hyenas. It looked as though he'd have to face this matter more directly than he had planned to.

"Yes, yes very well then. I'm glad you're all getting_so_ much mileage out of my alleged dalliances last night," the Lieutenant scoffed. "Firstly, I would confirm to you that nothing untoward happened, in fact nothing even toward happened. Nothing happened. At. All."

"Of course it didn't, sir," a savvy platoon sergeant offered. "We wouldn't dream of saying otherwise. At least not while anyone important is listening. We'll be certain to properly disseminate the... official version of events."

The no-longer-repressed sniggering among the ranks was only a further irritant to the beleaguered commanding officer.

"Truly, can none of you let this go? Is there really no other subject of interest or sordid scuttlebutt for you lot to salivate over?"

"Not since you stopped letting us go for a quick romp at Madam Jade's on the weekends!" came a wisely-distant voice concealed in the ranks. Still more laughter followed from the crowd, straining the gathering's credibility as a military muster.

Lieutenant Kruger sighed heavily. "Perhaps it truly is that bad."

He paced back and forth, at least giving the appearance of inspecting the troops while he pondered the conundrum he faced. This fabricated story of his tryst really seemed to be only game in town as far as racy intrigue was concerned, and it had far too much momentum to simply suppress it outright. If he were too heavy-handed in his efforts to silence all this gossip that would only draw further attention to it. Even if he couldn't patch this disastrous rumor run amok, he had to address it in some way. Doing nothing would only make him look weak in the face of a challenge to his honor. Since his soldiers were so willing to share about how they had nothing else going on, he figured he ought to turn that back on them.

"Alright, let me get the lay of the land then. By a show of hands, who among you has actually had sex?"

In another crowd, this would've been a provocative and unbecoming question, but these were hyenas. So naturally scores of eager hands shot up. As their unflagging CO added still more modifiers to his question, hands quickly began to fall back to the sides of some still-fairly-unashamed brigadiers.

"With a real, live person. A spotted hyena, even. Who was fully conscious. And a woman." There were extra jeers for those who put down their hands at that fourth one. "And whom you did not have to pay."

With so many thoroughly unreasonable descriptors added to his quick poll, all the hands in sight had gone back down.

"So, the numbers back you up. You really aren't exaggerating. I'm sorry for the terrible weight that has befallen you lads, but spreading this kind of disinformation about your superiors isn't the way to go about dealing with it. I know that you all want to live vicariously through me and as flattering as that is I simply must insist- hm?"

The Lieutenant noticed that several heads had turned as he was speaking, curiosity forced him to see what they were on about. The source of their interest was the group of three soldiers that stood separated from the rest of the ranks by a few paces. Misfit troopers Koz, Lucius, and Uri stood in a lonely line on the pitch. They were set apart from the rest of the company because they were still on restriction and extra duty following their arrest during a bar fight the previous night. Quite strikingly, one of their number still had a hand raised dutifully into the air, a quiet and simple act that had drawn the attention of the rest of the ranks.

The grizzled and ever-undisciplined Koz looked at the scrawny newbie whose hand was still raised. Forgetting that they were standing in ranks, and that their CO was approaching, he couldn't help but exclaim "You WHAT, mate?"

Ever the cynic, the outburst had made Lucius forget himself as well. "All those long, boring patrols where we had nothing to do for days on end but shoot the breeze and this never came up?"

This definitely seemed like quite the upset, though one would never guess from the Lieutenant's ever-somber tone as he came to a stop in front of the young hyena recruit that all eyes had come to land on.

"Private Walker."

Uri's raised hand turned smartly into a passable salute. "Lieutenant Kruger."

"At ease," the officer replied, finding himself almost surprised by even this token display of formality. "So you mean to tell me that you're the only one in the entire platoon that has actually gone through with a night of passion with an actual woman who was _actually_involved on a voluntary basis?"

"You asked, sir."

If brusque impatience could be audible, it would have sounded like the moment following that statement.

"I mean, yes! Yes sir. That is what I am saying in response to your question. Sir."

"Better."

The Lieutenant's eyes were distant behind the obscuring glare of his ever-present spectacles. He was still and silent as he considered his predicament. The last thing he wanted to do was to get Uri started on one of his yarns, but he was badly in need of a way to deflect attention from the PR disaster that was crashing all around him at the moment. The company didn't need his gossip necessarily, any old gossip would do. In addition, he had to admit to a bit of interest. If there was only one soldier in his company that had successfully enticed a woman without being served an invoice afterwards, he certainly wouldn't have guessed it would be this one. Resolved, he continued.

"I know that I may come to regret this very shortly, however," he left a moment to rethink his course, but still forged ahead with it. "Uri, would you tell us about your experience?"

Koz gave voice to the keen anticipation that had overtaken all in attendance. "Dude, you'd better say yes."

Private Uri, still bearing scrapes and a blackened eye from a rough night, didn't seem particularly thrilled about any part of this process, but he still dutifully made his way to the front of the ranks to share his story, as he was bidden. He knew there was no going back now. When he had reached a good vantage in front of the troops, he made a grand gesture with his arms outstretched.

"It was a dark and stormy night."

The once raptly-attentive crowd immediately turned on him, hurling jeers and clods of upturned earth at him. Realizing that he may have misread the room, Uri relented.

"Alright fine. It was more like, partly cloudy in the afternoon. A couple years ago. I was at a bar."

***

I was still on transfer hold waiting for assignment after my boot camp graduation. I thought it was weird to be out there drinking in uniform, but this is the Hyena Brigade. As I had recently come to learn, "We've got a reputation to uphold" means the opposite of what it does for most other militaries. It was my first real freedom in months, so I was taking advantage of it in... well, a sort of subdued way really. You know me.

"Amaretto on the rocks." I said when the scraggly wild dog barman pointed to me, a snap decision that I felt like I may or may not come to regret. It was kind of an esoteric thing to ask for in a little hole-in-the-wall like this.

He gave me an odd look, but seemed to decide against whatever he was considering and turned to the shelf to start preparing the spirits without comment. It was then that serendipity took pity on me, it seemed. For almost the instant that I started to think this trip would be a waste of time, I saw her. Just a few paces away, lounging in the bar's sadly nicest booth with some people she seemed to be only barely tolerating. I leaned slightly and tucked my tail under my leg to keep it from thumping against the stool, quickly turning back towards the bar to regain my composure. It was silly, but I was overcome with excitement at the prospect of seeing something actually interesting going on. Normally one doesn't get the treat of seeing someone so exotic in a below-average gin joint. Most of the interest in such places comes out of a bottle.

"She's nearly black," I whispered under my breath.

She was a deep, rich brown all the way down her body from the supple tips of her velvety ears to her shining, sickle-like toeclaws. She seemed proud of her pelt too, as the plunging neckline in the back of her immaculate green dress attested. I'd never seen a hyena with such color in her fur, her spots nearly blended in with it. Trick of the light maybe? Or she could've dyed it perhaps. I certainly couldn't fault her for it though. She wore it well, and clearly took good care of it. The fine coat of dark fur was impossibly glossy, its sheen taking on the colors of the admittedly dank light of the bar in the hazy air around her. Her coat added much to the sleek outlines of her tough, toned muscles. I couldn't think of anything that would bring someone of such obvious wealth and means to this dive, but I wasn't about to miss a chance to properly meditate on such a thing.

I turned back around upon hearing the clink of a glass in front of me, briefly not remembering I had ordered it. Come to think of it, I didn't remember deciding to steal another glance at the comely sheyena behind me either, but that had certainly happened a couple times in the interim.

"Seventeen-fifty, pal," the bartender said in a businesslike way, taking notice of how distracted I was.

"Ugh. Start me a tab," I said, already dreading how hard of a punch to the wallet this was going to be.

"You're good for it, right?" he said, using the brief, perfunctory intimidation as an excuse to lean in close and whisper in my ear. "The seat swivels, you know."

I nodded, fur ruffling on my cheeks in a blush. Point taken. I was being just a bit too obvious about inspecting someone who looked influential enough to have me killed for such a thing. I took a quick drink, hoping I hadn't already betrayed my interest too much. I swished the sweet liquor down, crunching one of the smaller ice cubes out of habit. I really shouldn't have been so frivolous with them. This being an impoverished desert and all, that ice was half the cost of the drink.

The strong syrupy flavor quickly coated my tongue, soon forcing me to swallow. It certainly wasn't the manliest drink in the world, but_excuse_ me for wanting to enjoy the flavor of what I'm drinking whilst I have a little leisure time. For once I wasn't just throwing back whatever was handy to get totally sozzled in the most expeditious way possible, as is Hyena Brigade tradition.

When I felt I had re-established my anonymity I chanced another glance. She was right where she was before, surveying the crowd with an air of casual disinterest. Now that I thought about it, she looked to be in charge of those two guys she was with. By the way they looked at her it was obvious. She had to really be somebody to command that kind of fear and respect, and to afford such spiffy clothes. She really stood out amongst the usual crowd.

"Okay," I thought, turning back to the bar, "practically counting the pleats in her skirt. Not exactly the way to be discreet."

I took another long sip, estimating that I'd gotten through about eight or nine Krugerrands of it by now. She was out of my league anyways. May as well just sit and drink. She was gone when next I looked. Figured as much. No longer thinking of the cost I tipped my glass back and-

"Ever heard that it's rude to stare?" came a quiet, but sternly commanding voice from behind me.

In a perfect world I would've come back with some quip about it being a form of flattery or taking time to appreciate a work of art or something, but what I actually did was jump in surprise and gag as I felt an ice cube sliding down my throat. I turned back to slam my glass down to lean on the bar while I coughed and gasped, shivering as the frozen mass finally slid past the point where it blocked my throat. I wheezed heavily as-

A quick sneer came from Lucius. "That would've been an embarrassing way to die."

"Yeah, you sure know how to make a first impression!" Koz offered.

The crowd had turned back in Uri's favor by that point. His focus was wandering a bit, as was typical for him once he got going on a story, but the immediate entry of 'the woman' into the picture gave the impression that he was acting in service of actually getting to the point. A behavior his commanding officer was keen to enforce.

"Quiet now, all of you! If you interrupt him this is going to take twice as long!"

"Uh, yeah. So, as I was saying..."

***

That whole time while I was... composing myself, she was watching me closely. She was looking for something, it felt like. I mean, it also felt like her eyes could cut me in half, but more the first thing. I thought I might say something, but my mouth didn't work. I knew anything I could think of would probably come out stupid, so I just waited. She gave a quick nod after an uncomfortably long moment of considering me silently.

"I'm going out," she stated plainly. "You will accompany me."

The barstool clattered to the floor as my legs snapped up underneath me to stand next to her. Not graceful, but prompt. That seemed to be what she was looking for. She smiled. Something that I actually did have to say leapt to mind, and leapt, quite inelegantly, from my mouth.

"I ate here. And I- the bar too, um. I haven't paid for-"

"That will be attended to." She gave a casual flick of her wrist to one of her flunkies from the booth she had so stealthily vacated, who immediately approached the bartender with a pocketbook in hand. Having already decided on a course of action, the lady whisked past me without so much as another glance. "Now. We're going."

And indeed we were.

Whether she was doing it on purpose or not, she had that "command voice" that the sergeants work so hard on. She didn't even speak that loudly, but she hit exactly the tone that I had been trained to listen for. The way she talked, I didn't think I could get my legs to do anything else but follow along. We were halfway down the block before I thought to question what the hell I was doing, and having no answer to that still didn't stop my paws from tapping along obsequiously behind her. Usually there's not an agreement in my mind on this, but right then the adventurous part of me wanted to see where this was going and the cautious part of me figured that I'd probably have a really bad time if I tried to turn her down, so I went with it. We stopped at the corner for a moment. She gave the street ahead a thousand-yard-stare that my drill sergeant would've been proud of.

I couldn't go for very long without asking at least_one_ of the dozens of questions in my mind at the time. I went with a simpler one so as not to rock the boat too much.

"So are we going to catch a cab or-"

"I believe we'll use that carriage, actually. Seeing as it's coming here to pick us up. And I own it."

As if summoned into existence by her words, an imposing and ornate black carriage was indeed trundling towards us. Odd for a vehicle of that era, its surface looked to have several plates of ballistic armor interlocking over the body of the carriage. It was being pulled by two zebras bearing saddle blankets that could've been war banners for the size of the family crest on them. Odd that such a sigil would so prominently feature some kind of small tree or shrub. That's not the most intimidating symbol to march under.

I couldn't place whose family the tree-crest represented. Definitely nobody from our neck of the savanna. Our only tree was killed when some drunk idiot crashed a truck into it in 1973. Only obstacle for 100 miles in any direction and he plowed straight into it. That's hyenas for you. I couldn't really spare any more thought for it though. It was a lot to take in all at once, so I-

The Lieutenant interrupted, breaking his own dictum. "That crest, was it a brown tree with gold leaves on a blue background?"

"Yeah! Exactly that," Uri confirmed.

"She was a long way from home. That livery belongs to the Czhokúla family. They're a fairly prestigious lot. They boast a lucrative and far-reaching business, with vast agricultural holdings. Their manor overlooks the Tiger River delta if I recall correctly. They're some of the oldest of the old money in that area. Money amassed from their sizable cocoa bean plantations."

"That must be what the shrub is!" came a voice from the crowd.

"Wait a minute!" Koz suddenly shouted. "The Czhokúla girl? You mean, Hot Chocolate?! You got to tap HOT CHOCOLATE? What a slam-dunk!"

"Well, thanks for spoiling the ending," Uri complained, "but... yeah. She was the heir to a chocolate fortune-"

"More than just an heir," the Lieutenant clarified. "She is in full command of a majority of her estate's considerable resources. The Czhokúla family dominates the confectionary industry in the way my mother owns, well most everything around here."

"What? Did you get bought?" came some more anonymous speculation.

"Can we skip ahead?"

"How is he the one who's worth money?"

"I can't believe she's still interested given what a twit he was being."

"Guys!" Uri shouted over the din. "I will tell you all about it but you have to let me talk."

***

"Well?" Came an impatient voice from inside the carriage.

A tough moment there. I could sense that stepping into this imposing transport vehicle was the point of no return. I really ought to have given more thought to it, but in that moment all I could think was that I was holding up whoever-this-was from... whatever-we-were-doing, so I hopped into the carriage.

"I do have to ask," I said, unable to hold back my curiosity. "Why a carriage? Someone like you could obviously afford something with a motor."

"Optics, mostly," came her detached reply. "What projects more authority, having someone build a motor, or having someone_be_ a motor?"

I'm not sure what I was going to say, but I only managed to make a surprised squeak before she continued.

"And in a more practical sense, people are a lot less likely to mess with someone that they know can drag around an armored personnel carrier all day without breaking a sweat. Not many motors can pull double-duty as security."

The fact that intimidation seemed to factor into every decision she made explained why being in her presence made me feel like I was being slowly liquefied from the inside out. I desperately tried to diffuse the situation as I settled into my seat opposite my host and our conveyance lurched forward down the street.

"So um, this is pretty nice," I ventured.

"Yes, I brought you here just to show you my carriage. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Okay. Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but what did you bring me here for?"

"Hm. What would you have us do?" she asked, still maintaining a poised and unassuming tone. "Were I to vest you with that power?"

"That. Is. Uhm. Kind of a tough call, really," I stammered, desperately sorting through all of the nothing that I knew of this situation. "That's something of a context-sensitive question. It depends a bit on what our ultimate ambitions are in this. And... who you are? You know, the little details."

"Very well, I'd be happy to contribute to your decision-making process." She had the superior, but patient air of an instructor, like she was testing me on something. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I am Kalua, Countess of the Czhokúla Estate."

She grasped my hand when I extended it. "It's an honor to meet you, Kalua Czhokúla," I said.

"COUNTESS." Came her stage-whisper that stood in for shouting. "Lest you, forget."

"Aaaahg!" I squeaked, shocked by the speed and force with which her claws had sunk into my hand. "I-ah! I promise that if it ever slips mymindthepuncturewoundsonmyhandwillremind meee... YAHG!"

"They. Had. Better." She tossed my hand down like it was a piece of trash.

"I... assure you, Countess," I stammered, trying to save face a little. "You are quite unforgettable."

That was the only time she ever raised her voice to me, even a little bit. The pain from her claws piercing my hand wasn't all that bad really. Surprising, to be certain, but I've been through much worse. What worried me was the implicit but readily apparent promise that there would be_far_ worse should I ever give her occasion to raise her voice a second time. I didn't dare lick my wounds right then. Not with her watching me, everything about her still as granite. I just kind of rolled the beading blood off on my tunic. The cloth was just the right shade of red for that sort of thing, likely for this exact reason.

A simmering rage still colored the way she held herself. It seemed as though she might be reconsidering her decision to abduct me. When her gaze turned to the window, I worried that she was picking out the right alley to dump my broken body in, should I continue to disappoint her. Part of me expected another attack to come, what with how quickly a cordial greeting turned into feeling the sting of her wrath. Honestly a sudden haymaker to the jaw probably would've been a fair bit less of a shock than what she said next.

"You squirm well, Private First-Class Beauregard 'Uri' Walker from the town of Cinkol, serial number 0479881. It's like you've been under the thumb of the Brigade for far longer than just the quick trip through boot camp that ended on Friday. How's the automatic promotion for key technical skill treating you?"

Yeah. I stopped breathing for a bit when I heard that too. There's laying your cards on the table and then there's flipping the table over and pinning the other player to the floor with it. I didn't have anything to say to that. Yeah, I know, a rarity.

"You come from good stock," she stated, still basically crushing me beneath her words. "Not from money, but some respectable blood. Both parents largely self-made and college educated. I believe your father's record in the 400 meter at Buffalo State College still stands."

"Enough." I was glaring at her. She found this amusing.

"Oh?" The Countess' commanding presence made that single word contain the whole sentence 'I am intrigued but also thoroughly prepared to end you if you choose these next words poorly.'

"So introducing myself isn't necessary, fine. I'm not that interesting anyway. But you have yet to explain yourself in any meaningful fashion. I don't even care if what you say is some duplicitous manipulation or cover story, at least do me the courtesy of a proper lie. If nothing else I-"

"I call bullshit," Lucius opined. "There's no way you said that and lived."

"Yeah, it... wasn't smart," Uri sheepishly admitted.

"Not smart? And the Cliffs of Bandiagara are 'a bit of a dip'."

"Let him be, Lucius," the Lieutenant admonished. "You know he's going to explain himself."

***

I know, I know. I was surprised and terrified by my behavior as well. That's certainly not normally how I would've responded. The smell of blood, the pain and confusion, her intimidating the very soul out of anyone within line-of-sight, it kinda sent me into combat mode. I like to think I'm one of those evolved types that don't even have a combat mode, but we all do. Even if it takes extraordinary measures to find it.

At some level I knew that she was just showing how she had all the cards, to stay with the poker metaphor. Showing me how I'm nothing, and the usual dick-swinging hyena woman stuff. I couldn't have this whole interaction just be that. I couldn't just sit there and take it. For one tiny instant, in one tiny way, I had to show her that I wasn't nothing. She sat on my remark for a bit before passing judgment. I could even pinpoint the moment where she made her decision, but she stayed silent for a few more excruciating seconds just to watch me strain under the pressure.

"Gaining my respect and losing your head have a fine line between them." She left a long pause to watch me squirm. I didn't move a muscle, even though the sweat starting to drip through my fur was maddening. "You walk it well."

Fortunately, my guts falling out and scattering along the road behind us is merely a metaphor for how I felt, rather than what actually happened.

"Yes, well," I said with all the sunken emptiness that I felt. "Brigade training is mostly pushups and a course on how to properly be intimidated by your superiors."

"Hm. You'd think so. But that right there is an instinct. Not everyone would sass a person in such an obviously superior position, no matter how hard they were pushed. That kind of impulse can be honed and shaped, but not instilled outright into someone born without it. It's in your blood, and it's exactly the kind of thing that I look for.

"I demand subservience, naturally, but I don't like anyone who will literally never push back. Where's the challenge or triumph in bending the will of someone with the constitution of a bowl of oatmeal? No, you've got the right setting. Put up with a large, but demonstrably finite amount of abuse before you snap back. If it's too easy to rattle you, then basically _any_one could bully you into helping them, or betraying me. That threshold needs to be high, so that only true titans can pull your strings."

This dynamic was starting to feel like a job interview. She imperiled me to gage my stress response, then gave her assessment of my performance. I seemed to have something she was looking for, though for what purpose I couldn't fathom. She had more to say, and for the most part I was happy to listen. Particularly given how dangerous speaking was for me. I felt weight lift off me, the fury that she had been on the edge of crushing me with had eased. Now that I knew what that inner fire looked like though, I could sense that it hadn't disappeared. It was always there, quietly seething just beneath the surface. She was always ready to strike. Her well-acculturated mannerisms and congenial tone no longer concealed that from me.

"I was merely illustrating that I am prepared and you are not," she stated. "And there is a word for people who rush into situations unprepared."

"Dead. I've heard that one."

"Indeed. I find it's helpful for both parties to know which one of them is nearest to death during a given interaction."

"Sounds like it would save time."

"That it does. So with that matter settled, I believe you've earned a proper answer to your questions about my identity. As to my purpose here? Well if you haven't figured that one out yet then that's something I'm going to keep close to my chest." I expected as much. Certainly wouldn't have been sporting if she just told me everything. "Apart from doing me the immeasurable disservice of giving me a name that rhymes, my parents vested in me a portion of their influence. Comical and dubious honor though it was, I seized it. The way any trapped animal seizes the means to make good their escape."

"Comical?" I certainly didn't find anything funny about her.

"Chocolate. It's the boon and blight that runs all throughout my bloodline. Quite the paradox, being both a luxury and yet also approachable to common folk. Lucrative and always in demand the world over, chocolate can buy a lot. What it can't get you out of is the reputation that producing it saddles you with. No one fears an empire built on a decadent_confection_. It is our curse, but then that very underestimation is what enabled us to rise to the position we hold today. Much like the way you Brigadiers love do act like drunken clods so that your enemies won't take you seriously as a threat."

"By the time they think to fear us, it's too late." I helpfully vomited up that piece of the propaganda I'd been forced to memorize in boot camp.

"Quite." She looked wistful for a moment before continuing. "Our homeland was once like this place. Hyenas ruled the roost, being much too disorganized to negotiate with and too savage and underhanded to face in combat. Their rule was quite the opposite of a united front though. Many squabbling clans all biting at each others' heels, throwing all their resources at combat and never making any meaningful headway. It's always thought that anyone who isn't a fighter by trade just gets rolled right over in such an environment, but there's something to be said for simply not being of interest to such people. Hyenas only exert the effort of fighting for something when there are gains to be made. Even if the only gain to be had is bragging rights, but what's to brag about killing some defenseless farmer?

"Pillaging from fields can yield some monetary gain, but a certain particular crop seems resistant to that. Cocoa trees take a long time to mature, and are a bitch to harvest, making stealing from them a difficult prospect. Stealing from the trees is pretty much indistinguishable from actually working the plantation. If I saw a brigand that was particularly effective at plucking all the pods down quickly, I'd sooner offer him a job than chase him off.

"Without the labor force to harvest them and skilled farmers to keep them growing, the trees and land are worth nothing. So it was much less work and much greater returns for the top gang of the week to simply shake us down for protection money, rather than disrupt our operations outright. Nobody thought a thing of the humble farm that just produced hard, bitter beans and some caustic brown powder. There just wasn't anything worth stealing at our pedestrian little plantation. Those brutish thugs had no idea of the export value of our crop, and my ancestors kept it that way as long as possible. But my great grandmother knew that someday the illusion would fail us.

"This tiny sliver of mercy allowed my ancestors the foothold that they needed to start moving against those that oppressed them. My family met the demands of the harassing savages, but nudged their accounting in such a way as to keep many assets from the prying eyes and greedy claws of those that sought to drain us dry. Not hard to do with your average street toughs. My family lived like beggars. The best disguise of all, really. Those brutish twits couldn't conceive of anyone having anything of value and not immediately trading it in for as much food, drugs or concubines as it can buy.

"My family's assets grew steadily and quietly over the years, often maintained as an account balance with trade merchants. Having our money in the hands of so many made our fortune safe in obscurity. It was quite literally a moving target. That's an advantage of sitting out of the warfare game. The ability to be overlooked is an benefit that people tend to overlook. Your family can stay healthy and grow consistently when your children aren't out in the streets getting beaten up and killed all the time. Our family became stronger just by virtue of our lot not getting violently truncated every couple years.

"Profits were fairly steady even in such a violent area. By the time of my grandmother Virma our hoard had grown to such an extent that she got to thinking she ought to put it to use. She couldn't help but notice that business was so dependable because the merchant caravans that she sold to always were flanked by guards and mercenaries, paid out of the take from a given trading expedition. She used the secret wealth her predecessors had accrued to secure the aid of a downtrodden group of Pigmy folk to aid her with the construction of a barrier around her modest land holdings. Any of the gangsters that were perceptive enough to inquire were assured that it was 'to keep out pests'.

"That explanation didn't hold too well by the time the turrets and guard towers went up, but by then it was too late. The next caravan had brought in all the troops and arms that our cocoa had purchased. When one of our 'creditors' next came to collect their due, we declined. Thereby of course, inviting whatever unfortunate accidents tend to befall those who fail to pay the local gangs. But, as it turns out, stabbing unarmed shopkeepers and squabbling with your neighbors over who owns the most war-torn ghettoes doesn't prepare you very well for laying siege to a fortified compound staffed with heavily armed mercenaries. Their great and fearsome warriors seemed to respond much the same as anybody else did to being repeatedly shot by garrisoned militia that they couldn't even reach."

"I bet they came down on your family pretty hard after that," I said.

"They may have wanted to, but that's the thing about being a ruthless, backstabbing street gang with enemies on all sides. Not only do you not have anyone to turn to for help when a quarter of your fighting force gets killed in an ill-advised attack on a heavily entrenched encampment, you have several greedy and powerful foes who will sense your weakness, and view it as a chance to strike. If your whole base of power is built on never showing weakness, the first time you do will be your last. My home is littered with lonely graves that say 'we were invincible'."

"Funny how that word so often tends to be used in the past tense."

"Yes. So many were undefeated, until they decided to throw themselves at our walls, and break like waves on a shore. As you might imagine, being the only farm that wasn't under constant threat of violent raids and extortion is quite good for business. Fortifications and hired guns actually cost less than the blood tax our one-time extortionists demanded. It got out that we were rich, sure, but that just meant that we had to double-down. To do anything else risked our annihilation.

"Wages for our workers were slashed again and again in favor of toughening security, but people still begged to come work for us. They'd toil all day long in exchange for nothing more than meager rations and the safety that our employ brought with it. We offered life itself in exchange for working our land. The operation grew steadily as nearby farms buckled under the dual pressure of violence from the gangs, and financial intimidation from our growing empire. Before long my family was a major player in the region.

"Agriculture may be considered such a shameful_way of life for a hyena, but it is an art of creation rather than destruction. Our warlike neighbors suffered constant losses fighting to keep what they had. Once we were profitable enough to outsource the fighting, we were under no such pressure. Spears break and footsoldiers fall, but greed is a renewable resource." She shrugged, inspected one of her immaculately-polished claws, and added "Things only got better from there. Once we were rich and unassailable, the 'stigma' of our line of work didn't matter. We were the hyena gang that brutalized all the other hyena gangs out of existence. Would_you talk any shit about us?"

"It would be the last thing I'd ever say," I admitted.

"And here I thought you hadn't heard of us." Her rolling purr made her happiness seem almost as intimidating as her fury. "We may not behave like people expect hyenas to behave, but among the local hyena gangs we quickly became 'the ones you don't fuck with'. You'd think that the warriors would be the ones who would come out on top in a nation that lives in a state of war, but fighters-by-trade always end up fighting the battles of rich folk for them. Though a new Brigade recruit would know all about that, wouldn't he?"

I looked quickly down at the floor. "He would."

She was correct. Excruciatingly so, and of course she knew it. I didn't look back up, but I could feel her self-satisfied grin.

"That's what I was born into. A rich, expansive and well-defended cocoa plantation, but a mere cocoa plantation nonetheless. Nobody respected us or took us seriously beyond the loathsome urchins that had seen the flash or felt the sting of our security forces. To anyone truly influential we were just more out-of-touch rich folk. I knew there was potential there though.

"I knew what Grandmother Virma knew. I knew that money which came from chocolate was just as valuable and just as powerful as that which came stained with blood. I knew I could use that money to make the other baronesses regret underestimating the 'house that candy built'. They may have been content sitting comfortably atop their lavish hoards, but I detested the cushy life of a privileged socialite. I longed to be one of the true elites. The deal-makers, the ground-breakers, the people who leveraged their wealth to shape the world to their choosing instead of quietly sipping on their inheritance as they languished in luxurious obscurity."

"And how did you manage that?" I was quite genuinely interested by that point.

"The usual way one consolidates wealth and power. I made investments and acquired assets. As an enterprise grows, it becomes more attractive to new assets that have the potential to be acquired. My parents, and even more so their parents, believed that anyone they hadn't outright bought out or scared off with their defenses was at best useless, and at worst an enemy. I knew better though. I knew that there were other ways for people to be valuable. Farmers, shopkeepers, laborers, not many working folk are able to stack up money like my ancestors could, but they still generate value. They still turn a profit. They're still assets. That's hell of a lot more valuable of a thing to have than the husk of an operation that's been driven to ruin by decades of beating back the destruction and bloodshed at their gates.

"So I didn't let any outmoded preconceptions dictate the way I advanced my business interests. I did what my parents thought to be unthinkable. I became what they had fought so hard to keep out. I sold protection. The only difference was that I took a literal interpretation of the term, defending anyone who furnished the cash.

"Mother was furious when she learned of what I had been doing. Thought I had become one of them. She always told me that you couldn't buy loyalty. Hah! I knew that as rich as we were, we could afford to rent it indefinitely. What else would you call the mercenaries manning our walls, willing to fight and die defending a stand of trees? To my mother, deploying our forces beyond the perimeter of the plantation always seemed like such a difficult gray area morally, but it was much simpler to my customers. If they wanted safety, they could either pay off the gangs threatening to kill them, or pay the people they had seen successfully smearing the dirt with the viscera those gangs for years. It was a decision that was made quickly by many of my prospects.

"Just as I was about to be disowned outright for my impudence, the rewards came rushing in. The money was good, but what really stayed my mother's hand was the gratitude. That's something you don't see with a criminal operation. The people that we extended our defenses to, they had us to thank for their prosperity. Every time there was a windfall, they credited us, and shared it accordingly. Every time a new player came on the scene, our existing customer base recommended us to them. Those who didn't outright solicit our aid avoided competing with us directly. My mother had to admit that my operations were causing more good than ill, and most certainly more dividends than cost.

"From there, taking over the whole region was practically automatic. Acre by acre, farm by farm, manor by manor, people sold out to us. Not even really from threats, ours or others. At that point it was simple economic pressure. We had the muscle and resources to make gold flow from the land under our control. Nobody could compete. If you wanted to eat, you signed on with us. What I set in motion could not be stopped. And today we own the whole damn place. The gangs that weren't outright exterminated know enough not to show their face anywhere that our forces patrol these days.

"Perhaps being born as a child of cocoa was prophetic, because today I have all the qualities I enjoy in a fine chocolate. I'm dark, smooth and incredibly rich. I took on a sliver of borrowed glory from my mother and forced it to return it a hundred fold. Any tool I was given I used to forge a masterwork that was the object of awe and terror in my contemporaries. My sisters never even knew what hit them. I'm not sure they ever realized that they were in a fight until I had already won it.

"That shall be my legacy. The fact that it suddenly doesn't much matter what industry paid for the sword when you're facing the pointy end of it. I didn't fight to take what I have. I paid a bunch of thugs to do the fighting for me, and in my victory I had people begging me to let them become a part of my empire. The pen may be mightier than the sword, but I bested them both with a coin."

There was an expectant pause, wherein presumably she was waiting for a heaping of awestruck praise. I didn't quite go in that direction.

"I think it's nice."

"What."

"Your name," I replied with a well-practiced poker face. "You said you didn't like it, but I think it's nice."

"You-" I dared a tiny smile in that glorious instant that she paused to search for words. "You choose very unusual things to direct your focus towards."

"That a problem?" I gave just a tiny push, noting her irritation at being caught off guard. "Or were you just, not...prepared for that?"

She was-

Lucius cut in with an incredulous shout. "You should've died like six times already, how is this_possible_?"

"I wish I could tell you," Uri said, seeming to express similar disbelief even though he'd lived it. His mouth did have a way of getting him into trouble, and he never did quite find the knack of turning it off.

"No, that's valid," the Lieutenant observed. "Bold and stupid, but valid. The Countess demonstrated that she enjoys and respects being challenged. At least in tiny, ultimately meaningless ways. It is fairly exceptional as a personality trait, but I've seen that in other influential sheyenas. Stayed the hell away from it, but I've seen it."

"It was a gamble, but I was riding high on a wave of not-having-already-died."

***

"You. Are. Infuriating."

A lot came at me all at once there. She was leaning slowly forward, planting her paws squarely on the floor, a clenched fist shaking with how tightly she had drawn her fingers. But her smile though. That wide, manic and fiery-eyed smile that showed off a dizzying mass of immaculate, blisteringly sharp teeth. I think that was the scariest thing she ever did. There was a... hunger there, that I really couldn't place. Like she wanted something. Something she knew she could get.

"So," she said, pausing on every word as that sudden rush of whatever-that-was disappeared back behind her veil. "You. Like. My. Name."

"Well, yeah." Against all odds, coherent words came out of me. "You can't truly hate it so. I'm sure that your middle name isn't embarrassing at all!"

"Koko?"

"..." Internally, I screamed so loud that I think my brain went deaf.

"You didn't laugh. Hmmm."

"Oh, not at all! I think it's kind of... sweet." Aaaand they'll carve those words into my headstone.

"Rrrgh." A tiny flash of irritation, that was it. I would live to see the next thirty seconds or so. "It's _fortunate_for you, that I need your body to be in working order. For the night at least."

"No really, it's nice!" Why couldn't I stop TALKING? "I can hardly say 'Kalua Czhokúla' without smiling."

"You just did."

"Yeah but that's because right now I feel like if I smile you'll hurt me." The list of things I figured she would hurt me for doing was very long by that point.

"You have good instincts," she purred. "I can see how you made it this far."

A long pause followed. I was desperate for a change of topic, and in looking out the window over her shoulder, my shaken and threadbare brain seized on something.

"It seems like they're just taking us in elaborate circles," I mentioned.

"They are. We aren't here to travel, we're here to talk," she explained, with just a tinge of impatience. "It's easier to clear a carriage of bugs than a whole building, and though one can pursue someone, or listen to them, it is very difficult to do both at the same time without blowing your cover. There's virtually no chance of anyone reconstructing any significant portion of this conversation without us knowing about it."

"Yeah, I guess that would do it. So if this is meant to be secret, what about all the-"

"My servitors are well-compensated and have been vetted extensively," she said with a hint of pride. "Even the ones pulling the carriage. They would risk their lives to protect the secret of my fudge macaroon recipe if I commanded it."

"You cook?"

There was a long silence. Clearly the Countess was still unused to being struck speechless. "I... sincerely hope that's not the only thing you took away from that."

"Oh I took away plenty. I'm just trying not to think of some of the other things your guards might do at a moment's notice if you commanded it," I admitted.

She gave a short, satisfied laugh. It came out as a very subdued and proper "Hm-hmm" She seemed to really like that response. "Yes. A good thing to keep in mind, if you hope not to find out what sort of things I have special signals to my guards for."

"I'm sure," I said, suddenly choosing my words even more carefully, "that such a learning experience could be avoided."

"That is well," she confirmed. "So long as you are equally certain that it can be arranged."

She gave me a solid, close look at those piercing, greedy eyes of hers as she interrogated me with her gaze once more. I saw that expression better this time. I could read it like it was written in her iris:Oh yes, I like it when you're afraid.

Koz couldn't help drooling. "That is so hot."

"Shut up, Koz!" Lucius snapped, irritated at the interruption of such a pivotal moment. "But yeah, I get where you're coming from on that."

"_If_I may?" Uri spat, impatiently.

***

"You bring up a valid point though. Choosing a destination isn't a course that would be terribly amiss." There was another 'choose wisely' leer from her. "You have a suggestion?"

"I... defer to you?" Yeah, I know, if I was going to fold I should've done it_long_ before that, but it is what it is.

"Very well." Ah, she liked being deferred to. Fancy that. "There's not much to do in this part of town, other than perhaps get some food at a nice restaurant."

"We could do that."

"Didn't you say you just ate?" she asked with a hint of bemused suspicion.

"I did just eat. But I don't see how that's relevant."

"You've... basically been kidnapped and threatened, for reasons you still don't know, and you're thinking about food."

"On some level I'm always thinking about food." Truer words I've never spoken.

She thought on it for only the barest of instants before shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Understandable," she stated before sliding open the heavy window with ease and swinging bodily out of it to say something to the driver. She gave me something of a provocative view in so doing. After she'd relayed her instructions she dropped right back into her seat, slid the window shut and struck back up like nothing had happened.

"So you're an engineer, you say? Hm, would've preferred a commander or a warrior."

"Well, for one I didn't tell you that. You read it out of the dossier you have on me. And secondly, everyone in the Brigade is also a warrior, no matter what their other specialty is. I can hold my own if need be."

"All too true. Hm, that work requires sharp eyes and good hands." With a movement that I didn't even see, she had grasped and lifted up my uninjured hand. She turned it over once or twice, flexing my joints a little. "You're quite tense, as well you should be, but it seems as though you've got a steady hand."

"Uhm, yeah! My work. It's a lot of like, fine details and little um, fiddly things." I think that my brain had run out of panic by then, but there was still a very clear flash of 'Oh holy shit she's holding my hand!'

"Hm, it shows. Very dexterous, but I can feel some toughness there as well."

"Yeah, I really like to- ahg, ggluh?" I was interrupted by the Countess pushing up my jowls and getting a close look at my teeth. Apparently she felt that her copy of my dental records was insufficient to sate her demand for information.

"Hm, you do take good care of these."

Lucius interjected this time, forgetting how much Koz doing so had irritated him. "Wow, she really started getting up close and personal with you, just like that?"

Naturally Koz was quick to chime in. "That sounds pretty intimate to me. Nobody gets up in your business like that right away unless they want to be all the way up in your business."

"Well, it wasn't so much intimate, really." Uri searched for the correct words. "It was more like-"

"She was inspecting you," the Lieutenant supplied. "Gauging your health and physical condition."

"Yeah, pretty much. Sounds like you've been inspected a few times yourself, sir."

"Quite. Someone with a dowry like mine is bound to attract attention, and thus a few appraisals. Though the scrutinizing of my person has never gone off with such favorable results as yours."

"T-thaaanks?" Uri ventured, tentatively.

"So what did you say to her?" Lucius asked.

"I said 'Thanshh. Therr the only theeth ah gahh.' quite eloquently, before she let go of my face. 'Well, except for this one. It's mostly amalgam at this point. Therein lies a story.' So of course I had to tell her about-"

"No, no, no!" That was an outburst uncharacteristic of the Lieutenant. "You stick to one thread, soldier. We are NOT doing the story-within-a-story thing again! It's confusing and time-consuming on levels I once thought impossible. I'll have none of that. Some of us have other things to do today."

"Aw, but we were gonna get the drinking game set up!" Lucius complained.

"Drinking game?"

Lucius sidled over to his boss, uncomfortably close, to be honest. "Well, we don't tell him the rules, but," he whispered, "take a drink whenever he starts a story that's on a fork from the main story. Finish your mug if he gets to the end of a fork and forgets where he started."

"Charming, Lucius," the Lieutenant replied. "No, Uri. As your commander, I forbid it. Skip to the end of that story."

"Alright fine. I talked for a long time and she put up with me."

"I know how she feels!" came a shout from the back.

"Shouldn't you be off peeling potatoes, Corporal Duncan?" the Lieutenant accused. "Ugh, Uri please. Do get on with it."

***

"I hope I'm not rambling on too much," I said, having finished filling the Countess in.

"No it's fine. It fills the time, and white noise is just as effective of an anti-surveillance technique as any other. Anybody who was going through all the effort of listening in would've long ago lost interest."

I figured she was hinting that maybe she could use a little quiet, so I gave it a rest. To my surprise, she spoke next, in relatively short order.

"You're a puzzling one. I thought I'd already learned everything there was to know about the usual male hyena pattern of constantly chasing tail and then suddenly being terrified once they're within arm's reach of an actual woman."

"I assure you that I am nothing if not terrified." I just broke my record for truest words.

"And yet, here you are."

I saw another flash of that... something again. In the context of what she was saying, that phrase fit. I was afraid but still came along, but when she said it with that smirk and a little bit of a growl, 'here you are' felt more like 'now I've got you'. It was kind of like-

Lucius' capacity to avoid interrupting had flagged noticeably during the course of the story. "Okay for real is anybody else noticing the theme here?"

Answers flittered in from all around him.

"Yes."

"Duh!"

"Yes."

"Obviously."

"What?" It seemed that Koz, surprisingly, was the only one that wasn't quite on the same frequency as everyone else yet.

"She's very clearly expressing a particular desire," the Lieutenant supplied.

"Ooooh!"

"Yeah," Uri sheepishly admitted. "I hadn't figured it out right then, but she was-"

"More horned-up than a rugby match between antelopes and unicorns?" Koz suggested.

"I was gonna go with 'in heat' but sure."

"And you really hadn't noticed that yet?" Lucius asked, dumbfounded by his squadmate's obliviousness.

"Not by a long shot. Like, I know that she had pretty good command over her emotions, but you'd think that it would be a bit easier to notice if a sheyena were... in that state."

A notable break in Lieutenant Kruger's implacable facade, he could be seen fidgeting uncomfortably as he mumbled "Yeah, you'd... _think_that." It seemed he'd learned this lesson for himself. Perhaps there was more to the rumors about him than he'd let on.

"Alright, whatever," came Lucius' exasperated sigh. "Go on, I already regret saying anything."

***

"I... don't recall being offered the option to decline on the matter of coming with you," I said, thinking back on the unique way she phrased such things.

"It wasn't offered, but you still could've taken it. I would hardly have suffered the indignity of having to send agents after you as you fled down the street."

"That is true. 'Blindly flee for your life' appears at the bottom of the list for many multiple choice questions. I just hadn't considered it. At least not before I got in the carriage."

"And now it's too late."

She said that quite playfully, but after a fashion my hand still reflexively reached back to the door behind me. I had previously noticed my window being blacked out and that all the glass was bulletproof, but in that moment I also found that my window didn't even open, and there was no door handle on my side.

The groaning disbelief came from Koz this time. "We should've taken a pool on whether or not you survived this. I probably could've gotten 4:1 odds."

"We can still whip something up," Lucius suggested. "What's the spread on physical injuries?"

"Well, 'draw blood' was pennies on the dollar. But there's still a good over-under for 'requires body cast or not'."

"Guys, I didn't die," a confused Uri sputtered. "I'm telling the story right now!"

"That proves nothing!"

A terribly disheartened Lieutenant Kruger surveyed the scene with palpable dismay, his gut sinking at the realization that these were the people upon whom judgments about the effectiveness of his leadership would be made. He prayed that Uri would get back on track soon.

***

We soon neared our destination, though I had only the Countess' quick briefing to clue me in on that.

"This location is a bit easier to spy on, but I'm making time for it because I could use a bite myself, and a bit because I respect a healthy appetite. We will take care with what we say in here, and speak as though we are just good friends catching up for a bit."

"Of course, Countess. It's good to see you again, I'll be quite interested to hear what you've been up to." I started playing along immediately, because really, what else was I to do? Like many things she said, her plans for the future were statements of fact that had the option to refuse removed from their phrasing.

Our retinue conducted us from the carriage. The number of hyenas tending the Countess had grown from just the two assistants I saw earlier to include two stout bodyguards and a grizzly paramilitary-looking mercenary in an ill-fitting tuxedo. Her tie did not match her eyepatch. I noticed that the smaller assistants had notably dark pelts as well, likely they were from the same area the Countess was. While the burly fighters had much lighter fur, probably locals hired for just this expedition. Likely this entourage had been flanking us the whole time. I started checking rooftops for where she had placed her sniper.

"You won't see her," she whispered to me as we walked inside. "Not until it's too late."

I had no way of telling if she was serious. From what I'd seen, there's a good chance she was. We stepped inside a downright palatial restaurant, the kind of establishment that would've been too expensive for me to make eye contact with if I were by myself. Chandeliers, velvet rope, a preponderance of champagne flutes, the whole yarn. The shifting gears of the stuffy leopard maitre'd as we approached was palpable. An audible mid-sentence_thunk_ wouldn't have been out of place.

"Greetings, and welcome to- Oh my, you're early, I-"

"I trust that isn't a problem." That was just like her. Where others would've asked a question, she coldly stated a fact.

"Oh no, no certainly not it's perfectly alright Countess and a joy to have you with us of course. I shall conduct you and your distinguished guest to your table presently."

"Yes, you certainly will."

There it was again. The mere thought, the barest hint of the_possibility_ that something might oppose what the Countess wanted, the very moment that such a thing dared to show itself it was crushed instantly and without compromise. I got the feeling that was how she handled a lot of things.

"How did you do that?" I asked after the maitre'd had seated us and hustled off to summon a server. "Usually snooty places treat their reservation times like they're carved in granite by one of the gods."

"It's called respect. Even here, so far from my home, I command it. When I carve a correction into stone, even the gods accede to it."

"Yes, of course." Yeah, she'd gone almost 30 seconds without reminding me that I was an insect in the presence of a force of nature. That was a new record. I'd had less intimidating dinner conversations with people who were considering making me the main course. "It's a nice place though. This is a Class II uniform and I still feel underdressed."

"Yes well, if that thready rag were anything _but_a Brigade uniform you likely would've been asked to leave."

"I tend to feel like that had more to do with whose guest I was."

Her eyes narrowed just a little, but from the bottom up, not in an aggressive way. It was becoming more obvious to me when she thought I had said the right thing. I also got the impression that she was keeping a tally.

"Yes, it's all about who you know," she confirmed. "Or in this case just who you appear to know."

"Definitely. The appearance of power can be just as good as the real thing in some cases."

She gave an approving nod to a sommelier that had dutifully appeared next to her, and watched distantly as he poured her glass. "Sometimes, the appearance of power is all you have."

I'm sure she meant for that to be philosophical or something, but by this point my mouth was checking in with my brain even less than it usually does. "Well, if you've been bluffing this whole time then I really should've moved our date to a casino instead of a restaurant."

She laughed. Actually! Maybe. It might've been a part of her cover, but it sounded pretty genuine.

Uri was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"Uri. Bro. Dude. My man. She's been tossing fat stacks of cash around, she took you out to a fancy dinner, she endured being trapped in a big steel bin with you while you blathered on interminably for hours and she pretended to laugh at one of your stupid jokes and you still didn't realize that she was into you?"

Notably flustered by yet another of Lucius' interruptions, Uri stammered a bit. "Well I mean, I still had no idea what her intent was, and technically I was the one who brought up dinner. Since I had just joined a mercenary army I just thought that maybe she was trying to offer me a job or something."

"But you did notice that she seemed to really 'want something'?"

"How am I supposed to be able to tell what's an unusual amount of desire for someone that basically IS desire?" Uri asked, exasperated. "It would be like looking for a snowball in a snowbank! Her memoir is probably going to be titled 'I wanted something really bad so I took it'!"

"In point of fact," the Lieutenant cut in, "her memoir is required reading at the Academy. Many key lessons about the consolidation of power are to be found within its pages. It's actually titled 'Wanting Something isn't Enough'."

"Okay point, but you got pretty close to her," Lucius continued. "Couldn't you smell it on her?

"Well she just smelled like... chocolate, of course. I guess she wasn't exaggerating when she talked about making fudge and cookies and stuff. That smell was all over her, even deep in her fur. I could just see that thick, luscious liquid chocolate in my mind when I smelled her, almost like I could feel the velvety touch of smooth, syrupy fudge glaze on my fingers. Her scent was so warm and invitingly bitter. It made my mouth water and my fur stand up. There was this thrilling spicy note to it that- oh. Oh yeah. Maybe that did mean a little something now that I think about it."

"Hah!Top of his class at the academy, you know!"

"Thaaaat's Hot Chocolate for you!" Koz cut in. "The Sweet Treat That Makes You Warm All Over!"

"Hey, ease up, guys!" Uri, for the first time since his oration began, was looking genuinely upset. "I'm up here baring my soul to you and you've been walking all over me this whole time. And now the stupid jokes!"

"Okay, fine fine," Koz whined. "Get back to dinner then. I wanna hear what this swanky fine-dining joint of hers was serving."

***

"You did take quite a chance by coming with me," she chided, gently swirling her drink.

"Would I have fared any better had I refused?"

"Hmmm." She took a long sip as she considered my question. "I might've respected that resolve. But then again I've respected many of my fallen adversaries. Right before I caused them to fall."

Fortunately I hadn't drank anything yet, so I didn't have anything to choke on from hearing that.

"Don't be so flustered, little soldier." She was salivating over my panic as much as the fine food she was perusing on the menu. "Many successful people have taken great risks to get where they are."

"Many rotting corpses have taken great risks to get to where they are."

I thought that her laugh shook the chandelier above us in that moment. Rather unlike her, such an outburst. "Yes, yes! Hah! Yes. They did."

The sudden plunge into icy seriousness at the end of that sentence made me glad that I had sweated out most of the water in my body by then. Otherwise in that moment said fluids might've found another way out of my body. It was chilling, the way she spoke with raucous glee about the people she'd slashed to ribbons to get to where she was. I sheepishly buried my face in the list of tonight's entrees.

I was a little disturbed when I actually did see "hyena" on the menu, but then I realized that it was a portion size option. False advertising, really. I could've eaten twice that and still gotten dessert. Good food though. They have this 200-day dry-aged T-bone steak that's just like sun-parched antelope except every bite is the best part. Firm and matte old meat, just waiting to soak up your saliva, it was a dream all the way through. Made a good appetizer. To their credit, a "hyena portion" was one whole buffalo tenderloin. I was impressed that they could cook it whole like that. I was about to ask if I ought to use silverware like a respectable gentleman, but that was when I noticed her picking up her filet mignon. Only two fingers though. You know, respectable-like.

We talked and ate, both in great quantity. The wine changed at one point, I think because the bottle they'd uncorked for us ran out. They only had the one left of that choice vintage, and I'm pretty sure they were desperately chasing all over town for another one just in case the substitution didn't meet with the approval of the Countess. The place was crowded, but still rather quiet. We seemed to be having a fair bit more fun than the other patrons. No matter if our voices carried, as we were both maintaining our cover story, trading knowing little quips that made the meal seem ordinary, and wouldn't reveal anything if overheard. If anyone disapproved of our imprudence, they didn't dare to show it.

All that pressure and anxiety that had been tearing me to pieces all day uncoiled from me. I'm glad that it happened gradually, because all of that tension cutting loose at once probably would've put a dent in the world bigger than Ngorongoro Crater. Really though, the fact that I wasn't in the spotlight anymore meant that I could zoom out a bit and really take things in. I didn't have to so much live in fear of the next few seconds and I could try to really think about what was actually going on. And yeah, one of those thoughts was "Hey, is... is this a date?"

I knew that we were putting on something of a show right then. Keeping up appearances so that we could enjoy a night out without compromising the Countess' key secrets. Really though, I felt like I got to see more of the real Kalua during that meal than at any other time. The person that exists behind the commanding image she has to keep up while presiding over her vast empire. It certainly helped that the character she was playing was still herself, just a version of herself that was good friends with me. It felt more real than that though. Having seen her drop her guard a few times, I knew how to look for the signs of it. I came to believe that she really laughed and really gave me the occasional knowing wink. I don't think she's _that_good of an actor. Why bother polishing that skill when you're such an implacable titan that flatly stating the reality of a situation will get you what you want every time?

Freed of the weight of her interrogation, I actually got the chance to really look at her. Even after all I'd been through that day, she was deeply, stunningly beautiful to me. The soft candlelight made rich, dazzling patterns in her fur, and for once I could take in the deep ocean of her eyes without nervously checking for the blazing wrath that often boiled within them. I had noticed before that she was quite fit, with a frame like a coiled spring, but I'd focused too much on her arms, as they'd been the thing that was threatening me at the time. She didn't gain those muscles fighting. They were the smooth, even sort that come from a diligent exercise routine, but nor did she have a sculpted 'Miss Universe' show-offy sort of frame. Her strength was in her shoulders and her core. She wore the mass gleaned from a lavish but purposefully controlled diet. Her body had the trunk of an oak tree. It was the trim of someone who warms up by dragging around a boxcar.

What was so consistently stunning was that she was_immaculate_, her deep brown fur a shining tapestry as yet undisturbed by blade or claw. Normally not having even a single battlescar would mean that she'd never done anything of note. I knew better now, though. Her appearance was a way to get her opponents to underestimate her, and attested to a life where she'd won the game in a way most had never even thought to play it. To skip past the personal shows of physical force and just get right to the part where the very mention of your name strikes fear in all who hear it. Her body was a medal for her undefeated record, because she only fought in battles when she could end them before a blade was drawn.

The other battles? She had people on her payroll for those. Clearly she was someone who knew there were things that strength couldn't protect you from, but it sure didn't hurt to have it. The chance to be in her presence, to simply experience her in her silent glory in the moments between fictitious quips, to share a decadent meal with one such as she, it was the stuff of legends.

The food and drink, and charming reverie, had put a comforting haze over us as we proceeded back to the carriage. She gently relaxed into her seat opposite me, like a completely different woman than the one that had absconded with me earlier that day.

"You haven't lost a bit of your charm, old friend," she said. A mocking part of our fiction, sure, but she said it with heart.

"Nor you, Countess. You remain the picture of grace that you always were." I said it with heart as well.

I dozed a bit, the feeling of the tension having finally broken, and a blissfully heavy meal having sapped me for a moment. I like to think that the Countess did as well, but I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she never sleeps. I was brought out of it by the feeling of her squeezing and rubbing my ear. That was like nothing I'd ever felt. It's like when you don't realize you've gotten cold and something warms you back up in just the right way. You just kind of melt. I thought that was really nice of her. Of course it wasn't quite affectionate really, now that I look back on it. I think she might've been trying to like, make sure my, you know, make sure my motor was running and stuff.

By now Uri was no longer surprised by a boorish interruption. "She didn't want ya_sleepin' on the job_, you mean."

"Koz I swear if you trip him up right when he's gettin' to the good part-"

"He prolly put her to sleep talkin'," came a shout from the back.

"So Uri, was your motor running? Did it seize up from all those years of neglect?" came another jeer.

"My_motor_ works fine," Uri affirmed. "It's people with rusty clunkers that feel the need to brag about them all the time."

"Ooooo!" an excited hoot came from a few members in the ranks. None of those assembled had ever heard Uri clap back like that to the entire platoon. A momentous occasion indeed. Uri seemed in better spirits when the noise calmed.

"I mean, it certainly worked if that was her intent," Uri continued. "Her claws felt like they were shooting fire into my brain. In a good way."

"What did you say when you woke up?" Koz asked.

"A-ahg... ughuhaaah."

"Yeah, she was doin' it right."

***

Before long I was being pulled out of the carriage by that ear, which was too enamored with the Countess' touch to register any sort of pain from that.

"Come along, dear," she playfully mocked. "Our accommodations await."

It was a beautiful hotel. A searing beacon of white marble on a lonely hilltop. But I had been spoiled for such finery. I looked only to the hand that by then held mine as we strode through the lobby. We whirled through the check-in process, speeding it along with the Countess' inimitable charisma. And soon we were there. Our own room, just the two of us. Her, and me, and one big bed.

It was so sudden. The words I was about to say died on my tongue. Like it was nothing, she just hung her dress up by the door, swinging it off like she'd been preparing to do that all night. She walked over to the opposite side of the bed, saying "Well, we've had the night's entertainment. Now it's time to get down to business."

Uncharacteristically, it was the Lieutenant's disbelief that cut Uri off this time. "What."

"Shhhhh!" came the outburst of someone who clearly did not realize that he had just_shushed_ his commanding officer. Uri continued.

"Somewhere along the trip from the door to the bed, my heart started beating again. It appeared to be making up for the hiatus by pounding straight through my ribcage. Not even that fast of a pulse, really. Just heavy, and loud. I could feel the desperate throbbing in my chest, and the blood was rushing hot in my ears. I was right, she very much did want something. And the thing she wanted, was ME!"

"Yeah, I bet she wanted to be all over that scrawny nerd body of yours," came a shout, the first of a cacophony of them.

"How does he get all the luck?"

"Didja stumble gettin' your drawers off too?"

"He'd still find a way to mess this up, I know it!"

Chatter rose again, at the most inopportune time. The crowd simply couldn't contain their excitement, or jealous scorn, both seemed to exist in equal parts. The word that brought it all to a sudden, deafeningly silent halt came a surprise to all those assembled.

"ENOUGH." Uri cut through the crowd's murmurs like an axe splitting open a tree. "If_you_ lot are so damn unimpressed then I'll just get on with it. Now then, AFTERWARDS-"

"Wait, what about the good part?" Koz pleaded. "We've been out here _all morning_listening to you just waiting for-"

"You make fun of my story, I skip to the end."

"WHAT? Uri come on! You can't do this to us!" Lucius' shout rose over the collective pained whimpers and shocked gasps of the crowd.

"Too late. It's done."

"Cold and uncompromising," came the detached and dutiful opinion of the Lieutenant. "I'm sure the Countess would approve."

"Yeah, I guess there's a little bit of her in me too."

Uri turned back to the dismayed crowd, all semblance of military bearing had been rendered to shambles by their collective anguish. He paid their plaintive whines no heed as he continued.

"Well. When we were done..."

***

She said I was... proficient. Which may very well be the nicest thing she's ever said to a gentleman caller. Hardly glowing feedback, but I still got the impression that not all of these teeth marks on my shoulder were punitive. With that kind assurance, a similar haze to the one from earlier settled on me a bit. I was jolted out of it by the sound of her cleaning up in the bathroom and making herself presentable again. Even in that bliss-addled delusion, the sad, cynical part of me had long before figured out that she was leaving. Even so, I hoped against hope for just one single more moment.

"So could I... call you or-"

"Oh certainly not. We're done here." Her statement emanating from out of sight in the bathroom sounded like a business transaction. "And you'd best hope that you really got the job done."

"If I may, what did we just do here?"

She gave a short sigh of resignation. "I am engaged. And I intend to get absolutely everything that I can out of the forthcoming_joyous union_. He's done well for himself, and the connection to his family will expand my resources precipitously. He and his ilk will expect at least one child I'm sure, but he's a slimy little weed. I couldn't bear the thought of having a baby that turned out anything like him. So I resolved to find a key reagent I needed to cause this transaction to break most in my favor.

"I just needed someone that wouldn't jam the works by being too influential himself, or by being connected to the parties involved. I may be marrying for money and power, but for blood, I needed a nobody. That way, for the cost of a single whirlwind night I'll get a far less objectionable heir to carry on my line, and I'll have a card up my sleeve that I could play against my dear betrothed at any time. I'd take a hit with that reveal, but he stands to lose far more than I by that dishonor. No doubt he'll class-up a fair bit from this marriage. So even if he knew the kid wasn't his he'd keep his trap shut if he wants the gravy train to keep rolling.

"So with my target in mind, I just had to start digging in the right place. Conveniently, the Hyena Brigade is based far from my home, and has a well-established system in place for collecting together young, virile, impoverished nobodies and weeding out the ones of inferior genetic stock."

"So that's it then. Meeting me, grilling me like that, the background check, the date, it was all just to appraise the...suitability of my contribution." It felt like I was saying something I'd felt long before, but wouldn't let myself admit. "And the cloak-and-dagger measures were just to keep anybody from figuring out what you were doing here."

"If it makes you feel any better, you did well for yourself" she explained, never once pausing in her preparations. "You beat out a host of other potential suitors, in fact. If you had truly disappointed me, you would've known about it immediately, by way of you having to walk back home from wherever I decided to drop you. It's not a failing on your part. It's simply that this was all I needed from you."

Having prepped to her satisfaction in the bathroom, she walked out into the room to retrieve her dress.

"The bill for the suite is on my account so that needn't trouble you. They'd likely even grant you a late checkout if you asked nicely. I've arranged for a coach tomorrow, to convey you back to that fetid cave I found you in."

I... for once I dared to hope. I usually don't make that mistake so it was all the more painful when reality came crashing in on me right in that moment. I spoke aloud the latent conclusion that really should've been obvious to me the whole time.

"I'm never going to see you again, am I?"

"Now you're catching on." She cinched her dress behind her and walked for the door.

She'd cleaned up perfectly. There wasn't a hair out of place on her, all in service of erasing any trace of what we'd just done. Like it was such a shameful thing that she couldn't wait to be done with. She... didn't even say goodbye. I mean, she hardly struck me as the sentimental type. That shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Just a little bit. But as is my way, I gave her a little challenge. At least in a tiny, ultimately meaningless way.

"Goodbye. Countess."

That actually got her to pause outside with the door still open a crack. "It's not easy to be cursed with ambition," she said, her voice soft and distant, sounding again like the real Kalua. "To never be satisfied, to always aspire to something greater. Every triumph just a fleeting moment and every undertaking consuming a lifetime. You feel like you'd stop at nothing and it still won't be enough."

She seemed to expect me to say something, but I had nothing left to say to her. She took that in stride, responding to my unspoken anguish.

"That's something you'll learn about power, should you ever choose to seek it. You use people to get ahead. And then you throw them away."

The door clicked shut. I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. "Goodbye... Kalua."

She trusted me to keep her secret. Not because she had faith in my discretion or anything, but because, in her words "I know how you guyenas love to boast and exaggerate about your conquests. So even if you tell everyone that you know about this, no one will ever believe you."

Naturally the silence didn't last long. Koz took the duty of thoroughly killing the moment, as he often did. "Wait, so that's it? Jeeze, how did this story never come up before?"

"Well it's not something I'm proud of," Uri admitted. "And I didn't think you guys would be interested."

"You do nothing but talk and THIS is the one story you never tell us," Lucius lamented.

"Well why should he have?" the Lieutenant interrupted. "This rich noblewoman just dropped out of the sky, abducted him, exploited him as breeding stock and then never spoke to him again. That's-"

"Freakin'awesome!" Koz shouted, grabbing Uri and joining in on the excited cheers of the squad. "You're a hero! You know that? You lost your big 'V' card by getting a smokin' hot lady to bed you AND treat you to a meal!"

"Yeah, because that's what really matters. Getting a date and a couple meals."

"A_couple_? Oh don't brag too much!"

"No it's true. She bought my meal at the bar also, and well, the previous night while she was setting things up at the hotel I may have quietly ordered room service for lobster bisque and Burgundy truffle parmesan soufflé to be brought up in the morning. Two of each, actually."

"TWO? Wow, way to get somebody else's money's worth!"

"Yeah because, they were both for me. Yeah." Uri's enthusiasm notably did not match that of his contemporaries.

"Alright, that's enough of that," the Lieutenant asserted. "Obviously I'm not going to get any work out of you with everyone in this disgraceful state. Dismissed, all of you!"

Lieutenant Kruger watched as the company broke up, Uri enduring the adoration of all his new admirers as they walked away together, already commiserating over their shared unforgettable experience of hearing about little Private Uri's first time. The Lieutenant they'd left behind almost regretted deflecting all this unwanted attention onto the hapless young recruit like this. He didn't have much choice though. There were far more important goings-on that were going on, and he couldn't let something like a bunch of "restless" brigadiers make a mess of things. He would have to make it up to everyone's new favorite Private sometime. Perhaps he'd buy him a nice box of chocolate.