by Chris Hechtl
“I want to see what they do first,” Dom said. “We definitely don't want to get in their way,” he admitted.
He was not impressed with the initial marine landing. One shuttle was shot down, another crashed. The rest had either landed or gotten back to space.
Nor was he happy that they targeting the blimps. They'd been indiscriminant in their fire; several of his own blimps had paid the price.
They hadn't expected the marines to foolishly try to land into a hornet's nest. The SAMS set up to protect the spaceport from the Wolf easily took out the unsuspecting shuttle. What had surprised him were the lasers and other weapons also in the area Arkangel hadn't warned them about them. Nor had Ed seen them in his scouting.
The explosions in the city were overkill. Initially they thought that it had been a kinetic strike until word got back to them from Arkangel that it had been the general destroying apartment complexes loaded with people to piss the Federation off.
Dom swore and directed his people to do what they could to support, but he, like them, was not impressed by this, the Federation's first showing. By targeting the SAMS and playing hide and seek, they managed to keep them busy enough for a small force to get to the ground.
That force set up a firebase, but it wasn't enough to interdict the fire of the SAMS nor to do much for their fellow Protodon citizens. The Horathians’ grip on the planet's population remained firm and unyielding.
>}@^@{<
“So, it seems we're still on our own. The Feds hold the high ground, but they can't find their ass on the ground with a compass and a map it seems,” Dom growled. He'd gotten word that a Lieutenant Ebensher was left in charge of the jarheads. The woman seemed defensive; she'd turtled in the spaceport. His one attempt to get someone in to try to make contact had ended with them getting shot at. All attempts to get them to talk had been ignored or coldly warned off. “Just as well. This is our home; we have to fight if we want to keep it.”
“Dom,” Caitlin said in exasperation.
“What?” Dom demanded. “We can't rely on them. See? You got to give the pirates credit; they didn't go off half cocked! They got down here, didn't they?”
“And what sort of opposition did they have to begin with, Uncle Dom?” Jo demanded. “It wasn't like we put much of a fight up then, did we?”
Dom grunted. “No,” he admitted, looking down.
“That's right. The pirates knew they were coming, knew where they were going, and they were smart enough to hit them when they tried to land. It messed them all up. They got one shuttle down to set up a firebase, and they took the spaceport but little else,” Jo said.
“So, do we help them?”
“With what? We've got enough fuel for one or two missions, remember? We can't get in there and go toe to toe against their Surface to Air Missiles!” Dom said. When Caitlin opened her mouth, he held up a finger to stop her. “And before you say anything about the new defenses we've got,” he said, voice rising to top over her objection, “we don't know how well they'll work against the damn SAMS. No.”
“Damn it,” Caitlin muttered.
“That means we have to take them out on the ground,” Ed said.
“They are heavily guarded, Ed,” Jo said, shaking her head. “We might get away with drawing their guard force off to pop some of them but not enough.”
“It will weaken their coverage,” Corgi said. “Every little bit helps, right? We weaken enough of it the Feds will have an easier time reinforcing, right?”
Dom frowned but then slowly nodded. “I don't like it. I don't. But … what choice do we have?”
“I'm wondering where the Baroness is. I'd love to get my hands on her,” Jo growled.
“Maybe we should ask the man in white to find out,” Corgi suggested.
“And let her know we're coming?” Dom demanded, snorting.
“Exactly. If she thinks we're going after her when we're not …,” Corgi suggested slyly.
Dom frowned thoughtfully then cocked his head. “We can look into that,” he said slowly.
8
White Wolf and her crew arrived in a more professional landing. Dom had been out in his bird, and he'd seen the apparition in the air and the SAMs meant for him and his bird launch. He'd also seen something, what had to be a guy in some sort of blacked-out suit take them out.
That landing impressed the Lone Wolf militia group more than the previous one. Dom and Jo heard about it from some of the ground crew and families who kept an ear on the grapevine.
“According to Arkangel they aren't the full marines either, but they are better than what we had before. They have to be to be better than that cluster-group that came down initially,” Dom said indignantly.
“Uncle Dom,” Jo said in exasperation.
“What? Just sayin,” Dom said, clearly not ready to give up the gripe.
“They are trying. I for one am glad of the help,” Caitlin reminded him. He nodded. “Speaking of the man in white, I heard he got called in to the marine's base. He wasn't too crazy about it either.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Who's in charge? Some snot nosed know-it-all, I suppose?” Dom demanded, working on a part. He carefully screwed the lid on, even checking the torque to make sure he didn't over tighten anything.
“Not quite. She's older than you, Dom,” Caitlin said. He snorted. “No, seriously. She is a sleeper. Major Moira White Wolf. She fought in the Xeno war.”
“Great, so we've got some old foggy?” Dom shook his head. “That's hardly what I'd call an improvement!” he said.
“You really are a piece of work, Dom,” Caitlin sighed. “She's the president of Kathy's World.”
“Kathy's World …,” Jo echoed, frowning.
“Yeah,” Caitlin said nodding. “From what I've heard, she led a rebellion against the Horathians there, a successful one. She's a white Neowolf—pretty bad ass.”
“So? What's she doing here instead of minding her own planet?” Dom demanded. “Can you answer me that?”
“Because,” Caitlin said, finally losing her trademark red-headed temper. “She's here to help. She's good, knows the job, is ready to do it, and has a good track record. She's a bridge between the marines and us. So stop looking a gift horse in the mouth before I sock you in the mouth and kick your fat ass, Dom!” she growled, storming out.
Dom stopped what he was doing to look at Jo in confusion. “What'd I say?” he asked. Jo just shook her head.
>}@^@{<
The Lone Wolf group stayed clear of the marines. Wherever the marines went, they made certain to keep a low profile if they were going to cross paths or go out of their way to avoid them if possible. Twice Dom considered picking up and moving to a new location to keep clear of them.
He had to admit; they had impressed him with how they'd secured the spaceport and city and then started clearing the area out in a spiral.
“It's almost like we're not needed. Law and order are being restored,” Caitlin said.
“Say's the flying ranger. I think of it as sanity myself,” Jo said. “It's like we're about to wake from a long terrible nightmare.”
“But it's not over yet so don't go getting any ideas about slacking off,” Dom growled. He nodded to one of the Neocoyote pups as he sniffed about. Dom pulled out a bag of jerky and tossed the pup a piece. The pup caught it and then held it with his hand paws as he tried to rip and tear at the strip.
“You know that's going to ruin his appetite, Uncle Dom,” Jo sighed, shaking her head.
“Pushaw, these kids? They burn fuel like The Lady,” Dom said.
“Don't complain. At least it's going into the kid's gut and not someone else's,” Caitlin said.
“True,” Jo smirked as Dom grunted and made a mock irritating growl at them. That earned a snicker from Jo. “Don't worry, Uncle Dom, you're just keeping the figure for when you play Santa,” she said mock soothingly, patting his belly.
“Pish,” he said, swiping her hand
s away. “Says you!” he said, jutting his chin out. They could tell they were getting to him; his ears and cheeks were starting to redden. “I'll have you know I was sit-up champion in high school!”
“Yeah? What century was that?” Caitlin asked.
“Oh you!” Dom growled, storming off as the two women snickered.
The snickers continued when Caitlin caught him grunting and heaving later that evening. She went to check and found him struggling to do sit-ups. She covered her mouth and snuck away shaking her head.
>}@^@{<
By noon all but Major White Wolf and a handful of her HQ troops were down on the ground. She called a halt to the landings when the flight engineers started to complain about the clock time on their craft. She ordered the officers on the ground to get busy liasoning with the local militia as they secured the capital city's entrances. Once they had the city perimeter and spaceport secure, squads of mechs, militia, and marines would move in and go door-to-door to sweep the city.
Jethro wasn't looking forward to that, though he was glad step one had been accomplished without any losses on their side. According to the hot debrief Arkangel and Lieutenant Locke had performed with his telemetry feed, they conservatively estimated he'd taken out at least two squads of enemy troops. How many of them were Horathians and how many were natives was in dispute. He didn't care about the numbers; he just wanted to keep the enemy on the run.
Second Lieutenant Jason Locke seemed like a nice enough human, but the first lieutenant was a character. He had cybernetics, a replacement for his left eye, arm, and leg. Apparently something had gotten into his cybernetic eye that had forced him to shut it down and wear a black, glass eye patch. He disdained a uniform and wore a white business suit. He carried a fancy white cane and briefcase and seemed to blend in very well into the native population.
>}@^@{<
Sinjin and String Hawk arrived on the planet from the last Antigua convoy, a short time after Major White Wolf's landing. The duo had to wait days before they could get a shuttle to the ground with the rest of the grunts and gear.
When they did so, they were fortunate to land on a calm clear day. They landed without much of a bump, and then stood carrying their duffels as they walked off the back of the shuttle. “Damn, it's good to be home. I just wish it was under different circumstances,” Sinjin said, shaking his head as they looked around.
They had landed on the marine side of the spaceport of course, which meant hopping a transport to the marine base a short distance away.
“No place like home. But some say you can't truly go home again; it only exists in your memories,” String said by way of agreement. Once they went through the reception at the gate, they stood patiently in line at the receiving office, but they didn't have an assignment for the pilots. “Great,” String growled. “Wanna bet they'll sick us on some recruiter’s office? Or hand us a rifle?”
“We go where we're told. It's our duty I suppose,” his brother replied. “Just count your blessings we're here at all,” he said, nodding his chin to Ensign Mike Rivers. “Mike, anything?”
“Nothing. We're supposed to get a shipment of 222s or so the scuttlebutt says. Heaven knows when though. It could be tomorrow or next year or next decade. The navy is hogging all the shipping,” he said in disgust, pointing upward.
“Ah, the life of a marine. We get the short end of the stick every time,” String said. “Gotta love it.”
“Smile when you say that,” his brother mock growled. They put their gear in their assigned quarters in the officer's barracks then went to the chow hall.
There was another line, but the trio of pilots took the time to catch up a little while listening to the scuttlebutt.
“What ticks me off is, I heard there is a gunship here already,” Mike said.
“Oh?” String asked, looking around.
“Yeah. It's a militia group. Wolf,” Mike replied, “which is funny since it's obviously not named after the major.”
String frowned thoughtfully. When his brother got to the head of the line, he picked up a tray. He handed one to each of the other pilots, then they shuffled along to take what was given to them from the mess hands.
“It's a ghost ship. Bad ass. The old hand has confirmed it, and some spook is running liaison with the outfit. They are pretty tetchy about working with us though, which sucks,” Mike grimaced.
String frowned as old memories resurfaced. His eyes widened slightly, then he turned to his brother. “Do you think …?”
“It's possible,” Sinjin replied. “Should we …”
“We'd be AWOL,” String warned.
“Um, am I missing something? And should you be talking about that here? You know we just landed, right?” Mike asked, clearly alarmed by the sudden change in topic.
“True,” Sinjin said, ignoring the Ensign's protest as he took a cup of coffee. “But we've got to know. And we've got the inside track. If we tell anyone, they'll send it through channels. Then someone will send a force to check it out. Dom will either bolt or fire on them. Neither of us wants that.”
“No.” String sighed. “No, we don't.” He frowned. “Do me a favor, let me handle it.”
“String …”
Mike stared at one brother and then the other.
“I'll go. I know you are older, but if one of us is covering, we might be able to get away with checking. At the least we can say we were checking on family or following a lead.”
“Gotcha,” Sinjin said. He still sounded troubled but he nodded.
“Okay, for the uninitiated, what did I just miss?” Mike asked in exasperation.
“We think we know who is doing this, the Wolf group,” Sinjin said as they found a seat at a table near a window. “We're from this world.”
“Oh,” Mike said carefully as they took their seats. “Maybe you should talk to someone about that? Clear it?”
“That's a problem. We've got a bit of a divided loyalty thing going on, since the Wolf group is …”
“May be,” String interrupted.
“Might be our family,” Sinjin explained. “And yes, they are pretty touchy about anyone coming knocking. You have to know where to knock first of course.”
“Which I heard we do. I mean the navy does. They've been tracking the aircraft's flight patterns back to its base,” Mike said.
“That sounds ominous,” String said quietly. “Like someone's going to do something we're all going to regret.”
“Yeah well, maybe Major White Wolf will change that,” Mike said. “Let's have a little faith before we go busting regs and getting our asses in the brig, shall we?” he asked.
“What'd I miss?” a male voice asked, turning to them from another table.
“Nothing, just joking around,” Sinjin said.
“No, I caught the part about the Wolf group. I had my mouth full though. My name is Jason, Lieutenant Jason Locke, Military Intelligence,” Jason said.
“Isn't that some sort of oxymoron? And a marine in intelligence … isn't that more so?” Mike quipped.
The lieutenant glowered at him until he squirmed and ducked his head. “I'll, um, just sit here …,” Mike said, picking at his meal.
“Yeah,” String sighed. He looked around to the rest of the marines in the crowded mess. “Damn it.”
“You're among friends. Now we need to convince the Wolf group of that. If you have an in with them, I am all ears,” Jason said. “I know them personally.”
“You know Dom and Jo? Are they okay?” String asked, eying the lieutenant.
“I see you do know them,” Jason said with a brief smile. “Yes. I've chewed the same dirt as them, and we've worked a few missions together. Dom is a crack shot in or out of the cockpit.”
“That he is. He's done a fair bit of hunting every year for the table,” Sinjin said. “So it's second nature.”
“Good to know. Now about them. How do we get Dom to agree to come in out of the cold? We've been working on him, but I'm afraid he's beyo
nd paranoid. And stubborn?” He shook his head as both Hawk brothers chuckled.
“What? What'd I say?”
>}@^@{<
Dom and the girls were nervous about being in the marine base. It had taken hours of persuasion and an offer of safe conduct from the major to get Dom to come around to the meeting at all. He'd finally given in just to “get you to stop nagging me about it.”
Over the girls and Arkangel's objections, Dom had deliberately left The Lady behind and had flown into the base on one of his Santini Air civilian helicopters with Arkangel and his assistant in the back to provide the proper clearances.
“I still don't like it,” Dom muttered, shaking his head as he eyed the armed marines around them. Some were looking at them with as much suspicion as he was shooting them as he glared balefully about.
“You said you'd behave,” Caitlin sighed. “I guess that was too much to ask for?” she asked in exasperation.
“He'll behave,” Jo said warningly. “You hear me?”
“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled, shutting the bird down and taking his headset off as the rotors spooled down.
“Now, Uncle Dom, you better be on your best behavior,” Jo scolded, shaking a finger at him. “It's not their fault they shot the dirigibles down. They didn't know; they thought they were in pirate hands. Let it go.”
He reached out and squeezed the finger, then tweaked her nose as he popped his door open.
“Oh you,” she said in exasperation as he smiled roguishly at her. She couldn't help but dimple as Caitlin smiled.
“As long as they behave, I will, once we set the ground rules and who plays where.”
“It's a big sand box. Just remember, we're all on the same side,” Caitlin said, opening the door for Arkangel and his assistant, then closing and dogging it behind them. Arkangel tipped his hat to her and then nodded to his assistant. The young woman in white smiled politely as she held his attaché case. A marine met them and escorted them to the HQ structure.
“I have to admit; I am interested in meeting this Major White Wolf. She's some piece of work,” the old man said, looking about him like a tourist as he set his ballcap on his head.