by Chris Hechtl
Belle enjoyed the work, though she worried about her daughter's love of flying. She tried to teach her daughter the books and Jo absorbed such lessons, but her eyes were always on the sky. Much to her mother's dismay she would lose her daughter to her uncle's machine shop. The girl would come back grease stained but grinning about some minor triumph of repair she'd contributed to keep the fleet flying.
Taking Jo under his wing helped Dom deal with his sense of betrayal at the Hawk brother's sudden departure. The work was varied, so his crews were constantly busy.
Occasionally Dom would be called on to help Caitlin “Kate” Oshanassey and other Airborne Rangers. The rangers had the hardest job it seemed, bringing law and order as well as rescue services to the far flung communities and the bush in-between.
Dom would airlift people for medivac purposes or move rangers about to help with a hostage or other rescue situation. He tended to do such work for free since he knew how vital it was.
But when Dom found out he had been tricked to drop a lucrative priority shipment in order to move people by Ranger Bob Darion, who turned out to be rich friends of the ranger who had wanted a free ride to a ski resort, Dom balked at doing free work again. It drove a cooling wedge between him and Kate as well as between Jo and Kate.
No job was too small for Santini Air, though if they were overbooked Dom wasn't above spreading the wealth and subcontracting a job to a competitor. He was a fair employer to all, hiring any species for the job; the only requirements were training and the willingness to put in the hours to get the job done right.
When the economy hit a down tick due to some stock shenanigans, Dom took on extra projects despite his desire to step back a bit, even giving up his vacation time in order to make sure a cargo got moved on time. He, like Belle and the rest of the family, knew that they needed the money and couldn't afford to leave anything on the table. Besides, each completed job was a tick on their resume and a point in their favor with the public.
Dom still loved to tinker on the side though, and like his sister he did a small side business scavenging. Over time they inventoried the contents of the three cargo containers. With Jo's help, he managed to get the middle bird put back together and into the air.
She was tricky to fly; he'd insisted on going up the first time himself on his own. But he'd learned that they needed a second person in the craft to monitor its fussy engineering systems.
When their test flights garnered too much attention and people started to talk about a UFO in the area, he decided to relocate. Jo and the Hawk boys had discovered a secret volcano plateau, one that Dom himself had played in back in his youth.
The plateau was hollowed out and had near vertical shafts. There was a small ground entrance, but it was partially flooded by rain water. Bringing the craft in to land was tricky; the wash from the engines on the sponsons tended to kick up a lot of debris and dust, washing out the landing site. The pilot had to have a steady nerve and absolute trust in his or her instruments to land the bird safely; it was a complete brownout in the last ten meters of the decent.
Once The Lady was secured in her new lair, he tried to find the time to work on the lair and the craft in his spare time. He'd initially planned to fly her for parades; seeing such a craft in the air would certainly knock the socks off anyone who saw it. It could inspire a lot of people to join the Federation, which he wasn't certain he wanted.
The problem was the rangers. They'd want to horn in, to take the craft for themselves. They'd have the law on their side as well. He didn't need that sort of crap so he left her in the hangar for the time being.
Once they had the aircraft in flying condition, Jo seemed more interested in selling the craft or using it for parts. He considered that tantamount to sacrilege, at least until he'd realized from her grin that she'd been pulling his leg.
A trickle of news came their way every four to six months. String and Sinjin finally sent word back that they'd gotten into the Federation Marines, and after a bit of hemming and hawing and some prodding from Jo, he'd finally given up his grudge and forgiven them. He was also surprised to see a trickle of tech as well, including a group that came in with industrial machinery and had set up shop. They'd built modern batteries, solar cells, wind turbines, and other things and had offered their services to convert vehicles of all sorts to battery power. Their point man Mister Briggs had been a shady character, but he'd made quite the niche for himself right away,
That all came to an end when Protodon was invaded by Horathian pirates. Dom had been initially unsure of what to do. He like other old timers had thought the pirates were going to pass through the star system and then move on. When it became clear from the panicked calls over the radio network that the pirate ships were coming in to the planet again, Belle began evacuating Santini Air and hiding their valuables like just about everyone else on the planet.
Dom had been halfway around the other side of the planet on his way back to base when the first landings had taken place three days later. It was an agonizing thing, to feel so helpless. That was when he, like the other natives of his planet, found out that the landings were going to go differently than the old timers had assumed. These were planned to be a permanent occupational force, much to his and everyone else's dismay.
Dom and his crew caught the radio address from Brigadier General Busche who had arrogantly seized the planet for the Horathian Empire. “People of Protodon. For centuries you have wallowed in self-pity and darkness. You have been foolishly misled, drawn down a false path of so-called civilization. Well, no more. Rejoice! The Horathian Empire is expanding, and you have been selected to join the empire by our glorious emperor.”
There was too much of a grin in that voice, one that made Dom grimace. It wasn't like they had much of a say in their joining obviously.
His eyes narrowed, and his own hackles rose as he heard the so-called Baroness go on to announce a campaign of ethnic cleansing. “Whatever that meant, it can't be good,” Corgi muttered. Dom nodded.
“My people will be securing the planet shortly. We will take your security into account. Those who resist will be severely and permanently dealt with. We shall enact a dawn-to-dusk curfew, and when we have time, our people will go door-to-door to induct you into the empire.”
Dom's grimace deepened. That didn't sound good, not good at all. That she had the troops to secure the planet … he shook his head as Corgi's ears went back and he whined.
The Baroness went on, talking about how things would be better once they got through the initial unpleasantness. She also coldly made it clear that anyone who stood in her people's way would be made an example of—they and their families. “Any human who sheltered an alien or Neo will be dealt with harshly as traitors to their race.”
“We are so screwed,” Corgi murmured.
“Screwed, blued, and tattooed it seems,” Diamond, the Neolynx female copilot, agreed. “Well, that's it for this planet; it just went downhill fast. Anyone else want to hit the bush? We can't get off this miserable mudball with them in orbit,” she snarled, ears flat.
“Are they really going to do this, Dom?” Gypsum asked ears back.
“Seems that way,” Dom growled. “And there isn't a whole hell of a lot we can do to stop them. For now, we lay low,” he said.
The others reluctantly nodded.
He didn't like the implications, nor how people reacted hours after that announcement as they moved across the continent and ocean back to the spaceport. He could see it on their faces wherever they stopped. He restricted his Neo and aliens to the dirigibles. “I'm not a bigot, so don't give me any of that flack. You know me. I'm not up for that horse shit. The best place for you to be is out of sight, out of mind. Keep a low profile and hope it all blows over,” he growled.
Corgi nodded. Corgi was an electronics tech and a damn good one. The small Neodog knew his boss; he'd known Dom since he'd been a pup. So he waved to the others to take cover. “Listen to the boss man, people; he's never
steered us wrong,” he said. Dom nodded in thanks.
What also bothered them all were the quislings, the humans who seemed to come out of the woodwork. They claimed to be the disenfranchised, the people who had been exploited by the aliens and Neos, and were taking their rightful stage on the planet. Dom knew better; many were garbage. Scum, thieves, which explained why they thought of the pirates as kindred spirits. The bootlickers and bastards started to riot and whip up a frenzy of support for the pirates. Whenever the outmatched rangers tried to intervene, they were overwhelmed and either gunned down or forced to retreat. The human traitors formed lynch mobs to round up and publicly execute Neos and aliens as well as anyone trying to protect them.
To Dom's dismay, too many people looked the other way or tried to help the pirates. Some said it was out of fear; others were just trying to survive—to protect and provide for their families. He shook his head but then realized he shouldn't be casting stones himself. It wasn't like he too wasn't ducking and covering whenever the bastards were out and about.
Both Neos and aliens grabbed what they could and then hit the bush as quickly as they could. It turned into a mass exodus in some areas, and of course it was eventually reported by the media. That sparked kinetic strikes from the orbiting pirates. They ruthlessly took advantage of the radio broadcasts, even thanking them for telling them where the exodus was taking place afterward.
It sickened Dom and those who worked for him.
He spoke with his people, and they came to the consensus to hit the hills themselves. He dropped them off near the family holdings with a map of where to go.
His little sister Belle, brother in law, and Jo were working at the spaceport to get as much out of the area as possible before the pirates landed. But when they stopped answering the daily radio checks, Dom took one of his small skiffs in to investigate and extract them.
>}@^@{<
When Dom landed the skiff on one of his small pads, he was met by a no-nonsense pair of armed Horathians and Caitlin. The unarmed, red-headed Caitlin had a bruise on her cheek, but she vouched for him. “This is Dominic Santini,” she said, pointing to the man and then to the faded red, white, and blue banner on the side of one of his hangars. “He runs Santini Air.”
“Very well,” the officer said, making a note. A sergeant's urgent call cut the interview and inspection short. Caitlin shot him a dubious glance over her shoulder before she followed the Horathians as they left at a trot. Dom knew he'd gotten off lucky.
Belle saw him but didn't move from the shadows of the hangar door. He scratched his head as he walked to the hangar. His wandering eyes caught sight of the roving patrols, the burn marks, and the broken antennas. That explained why he hadn't gotten through to them.
Dom didn't know what to make of it all. He tipped his captain's hat back to scratch his thinning hair as he wrapped his sister and niece in a hug and then let them pull him inside. “We've got to get out of here,” he said quietly. “It's worse than you said. Why'd you stay?”
“Too late. Dom, you shouldn't have come. They are letting ships land but not take off. No one leaves,” Belle said, clearly fearful. Her eyes darted out to the armed barbarians outside the thin walls.
“We'll figure something out,” Dom said, now doubtful about the future. Somehow, someway they had to get out.
>}@^@{<
Later that evening the pirates came a-calling. Some of the group was drunk; their leaders had restricted them to the spaceport. So, they'd had to find their entertainment on the base. There was a curfew, dusk to dawn, no unauthorized personnel were allowed to be outside on pain of execution. Dom had been tempted to try to skirt the base, to cut through the back fence and get his family to safety, but the others had cautioned him to be patient and wait.
He would regret that. He'd regret it, as would Jo, but others didn't get a chance to live to regret the indecision and mistake they'd made.
Dom was in the back, trying to figure out how to get his people past the roving patrols and through the fence. He did a nose count and was dismayed by the number of people hiding inside. All of them were terrorized, and most weren't human. He knew most of the faces; they either worked for him or for one of his competitors. They even had some of their family. They told him horrible stories of the executions. Some of it was the stuff of nightmares.
He managed to get a small group together and tracked the patrols. Once he was certain of the timing, he led them through the holes in the fence the Hawk brothers had cut to the back flood canal and to the dubious safety of the sewers and crumbling concrete shelters near there.
While he was gone, the pirates broke into the main office building and caught Gijo with a group of Neos who had been hiding nearby.
They executed several of the Neo employees that the family had been sheltering, including the elderly Gijo. The bonobo had been harmless, but they hadn't seen it that way. The pirates had laughed and pointed to their elderly neighbor who'd turned them in to curry favor with the new administration.
“It's a new day. You're going to be an example to others.”
They then turned their unwanted attentions elsewhere. They stripped and raped Dom's little sister. Her screams alerted her husband and Jo who came running to investigate. Her husband Dirk was executed when he tried to save her and attacked a soldier with a wrench. Jo whimpered when they caught her; rigging tape was used to tie her up for “seconds.”
When the last group was near climax, they finished Belle off by strangling her. Then they went to rape the 16-year-old Jo. Dom arrived in time to see the scene. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
“None of your business, old man, unless you want to make it yours,” the corporal said, guzzling some cheap rotgut he'd found. He threw the half empty bottle at Dom. The old man ducked and heard the bottle smash against the metal wall behind him.
“This business is confiscated for harboring enemies of the state,” the corporal hiccupped as two tried to hold Jo down while a third pulled her pants down. “Now, unless you want a wrench stuck up your ass, you'd best leave this to your betters,” the man slurred. “Unless you want a go? Yeah, you do. Sick old man, but fine. We'll give you what's left,” he cackled.
“You …,” Dom didn't get much further before the corporal punched him in the gut. He doubled over and then felt an elbow hammer his back. He went down to one knee coughing. The guy kicked him but mostly missed. Dom pulled a pen laser cutter out of his boot top and palmed it.
Dom pulled himself up the table leg as Jo whimpered. One of the men holding Jo down came over to him and grabbed his arms. Dom felt the iron grip but didn't struggle. He felt each punch land on his face and chest. They didn't hurt as bad as the sight of his dead baby sister and brother-in-law, nor the hell and horror in the depth of his niece's eyes.
He struggled, more to get the right angle then to try to break free. When he was sure he had it, he thumbed the laser welder to its longest reach and then hit the trigger.
There was supposed to be a safety on it to prevent the device from cutting into flesh but he'd disabled it when he'd been young. The longer the reach the shorter the battery life. The device was ancient, passed down and rebuilt in his family for generations.
He gasped as the cutter bit into his arm, through his sleeve. But the goon holding him grunted as it cut into his flesh as well. Dom shifted his grip, and the cutter tore through the man's chest, instantly cauterizing but cutting through blood vessels, skin, bones, and digging right into his heart.
When the man slumped and his grip slackened, Dom broke it and then got his free hand on a wrench. A single swing knocked the pistol the corporal was trying to pull out of his holster out of his hands. An upswing tore into the man's jaw and knocked him against the table and one of his surviving fellows.
Dom stepped away from the slumping body at his back and drove the laser cutter into the corporal's back and across the man's spine. The man howled and then slumped.
Meanwhile the goon holding Jo'
s legs had been pulled off balance by the girl. She tucked her legs up and then lashed out in a kick into his groin as he tried to rise. He doubled over, groaning long and low, hands clutching his unprotected privates as she kicked up, slamming her feet under his chin.
When he fell, Jo broke free of the last goon and knelt on the guy's shoulders with a knee on either side of his head. A simple squeeze and snap broke his neck.
Dom kept the fourth goon off Jo, but it wasn't easy despite the dead weight of the corporal. He was desperate to keep them from firing a shot. He got hit by the desperate man a few times before the guy tucked his head down and rammed it into Dom's aching chest.
That was a mistake though; Dom managed to get a hand on each of the guy's shoulders. He tucked the guy's head under his left armpit as he wrenched the man's right arm up and back hard. The man let out a scream of pain as the shoulder dislocated and bones snapped.
Rage and adrenalin fueled Dom as he backed up fast and hard into the metal wall, slamming the guy face first into it. The loud bang and whimper made him do it again.
“No more, please,” the goon said weakly. Dom smiled coldly as he let the guy out of his armpit, turned him around, and punched him hard in the exposed throat as he stared at the old man.
He wiped blood out of his eyes and off his mouth as the guy fell, good hand clutching at his throat. Dom punched him again as he went down and then when he was down stomped on his exposed neck for good measure.
“Come on,” he said, pulling a rag out of his pocket to wipe at the blood all over his face. He gasped, trying to think of what to do.
Jo had it under control it seemed. She got her legs tucked under her and managed to hop over to the corporal to pull the laser pen out of his back. She thumbed the pen's length down and then used it to cut through her bindings.
Dom winced, glancing at the cauterized wound on his arm. The shirt was still smoldering. He batted at it then sat on the edge of the table to catch his breath. “This is a fine mess,” he muttered. His eyes cut to Belle and then closed in pain. “Damn it!”
