Stella Magenta Book 1 2.1

A/N: Three officers of the NUS Militia have just entered the shop and demanded to search the premises. Mr. Rennedon is giving them a tour of the shop.

"This is the entrance to our workroom where we discuss possible repairs with our clients and record all of our interactions with our clients to prevent misunderstandings. You're welcome to look through all of our papers. Just let me know if you need to find anything specific."

The guards stepped behind their desk without acknowledging her father's hospitality and shuffled through organized stacks of papers and notebooks. The slim oak desk shook every time the guards touched it, and Skylar worried that it might collapse. It wasn't well made, and had been purchased for only 12 silvers almost 10 years ago. It was amazing that it had lasted this long, as flimsy as it was. Skylar had meant to build a new desk, or at least make this desk more structurally sound, for quite some time now.Skylar exchanged a nervous glance with her father. Despite her father's attempt at looking stoic, Skylar knew her father well enough to see that he was uncomfortable with the presence of the NUS Militia.

The slim oak desk shook every time the guards touched it, and Skylar worried that it might collapse. It wasn't well made, and had been bought for only 12 silvers. It was amazing that it had lasted this long. Skylar had been meaning to build a new desk, or at least make this desk more structurally sound, for quite some time now, but had never found an opportunity.

The guards took their time looking through every stack of papers and opening every drawer to see if there was anything blatantly illegal that would allow them to either close down the shop, arrest Mr. Rennedon, or both. Once they had combed every inch of the desk, they reluctantly surrendered their search.

"What's through this door?" one of them asked, pointing to the door that led to the workroom.

"That's our workroom. There's a landing strip if our clients choose to fly their planes into our shop. It also has a door so our clients can wheel their planes into the area too. Our next project is to raise enough money for us to install a collapsable roof," Mr. Rennedon explained.

"We'll have to look through that area as well."

Something about the way the soldier spoke with an arrogant authority set Skylar's teeth on edge, but she kept her mouth closed and bit her tongue.

"Of course." Skylar's father crossed the room and opened the door, stepping inside and motioning for the guards to follow him. "Right this way." He had pasted a polite smile on his face, but Skylar could see the nerves hiding behind the curve of his lips.

Once again ignoring her father's courtesy, the guards brushed past Mr. Rennedon and spread out across the workroom, each searching their section thoroughly. One guard knelt by the stacks of accounting books and started to leaf through them carelessly, setting them aside when he realized how tedious they were.

Another guard started to poke around the ship, climbing up into the cockpit and searching every conceivable nook and cranny. Skylar gritted her teeth. The way they had brushed past her father like he was scum and were now treating them like known criminals who must have illegal contraband hidden somewhere was infuriating. They had no proof that her father had done anything wrong, but that didn't put a damper on the arrogance and haughtiness all of the soldiers displayed.

Skylar's father rested a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's a pain," he whispered to her, "but we haven't done anything wrong. There intrusion is a nuisance, but just let them do their job and they'll be out of our way soon."

"Why are they doing this to us?" Skylar demanded in a hushed tone. "We haven't ever broken the law or done anything to draw attention to ourselves! Why send three officers here for no reason? Don't they have more important assignments?"

"I don't know," Skylar's father admitted. "I'm sure they'll be done soon. If you want to leave, you can. I can handle them."

Skylar shook her head. As much as she hated this inspection, she wasn't going to leave her father alone with three Militia members. Besides, there was a chance, however small, that her father would find something for her to help with and thus relieve her of her dinner duties.

After what felt like hours but was probably less than half an hour, the main guard dusted his hands off on his pants and walked over to Mr. Rennedon. "Are there any other parts of this workshop that we haven't seen yet?"

Mr. Rennedon shook his head. "You've seen it all." He gave the officer the same tight-lipped smile, but the officer didn't reciprocate.

"In that case, by the authority vested in me as an officer of the New Unitary System Militia, I hereby declare that your business is in violation of Article 5, Section 3, subsection d, and has created hazardous conditions that have potential to impair a citizen's health."

"What does that mean?" Mr. Rennedon asked. His grip on Skylar's shoulder tightened. Skylar suddenly felt dizzy, as if the entire room was spinning. Her world had been flipped upside-down.

"It means that you haven't taken the proper precautions to prevent smoke and other hazardous fumes from escaping your building." The officer's voice was unsympathetic and condescending, and if Skylar hadn't been so shocked by his declaration, she might have lashed out. Instead, she remained frozen in place, looking between the officer and her father.

"But if I enclose this space, that would put us in violation of Article 5, Section 3, subsection f, because it would mean trapping hazardous fumes in an enclosed space without a means of escape, thus jeopardizing the health of my employees," Skylar's father protested, quoting the law almost perfectly.

"I don't make the rules." The officer shrugged casually and handed her father a piece of yellowed paper. "In accordance with Article 5, Section 1, subsection b, I declare that your business is closed to the public until you have taken clear and obvious steps to remedy your violation."

Without another word, the officers turned and walked out of the workroom without so much as a backwards glance. The sound of their boots clapping against the tiles faded gradually until Skylar heard the door open and three pairs of feet step outside.

As soon as Mr. Rennedon was confident they were gone, he cursed and kicked the plane with his boot, leaving a dent in the polished metal. "Curse those condescending officers and the government they stand for!" he muttered under his breath, almost shaking with rage. "This business has been in my family for years, and they just walk in here and cite a random article so they can wreak havoc on our lives! This is our only source of income!" When he looked up, his face was flushed an angry shade of red, and Skylar decided it was best to give him some space.

Skylar stepped out of the workroom silently, controlling her raging emotions until she was out of her father's sight. She didn't want her father to witness her meltdown on top of everything else She ducked behind the desk and buried her face in her hands as she processed what had just happened.

As the reality of the closure dawned on her, Skylar felt burning icicles penetrate the numbness that had swelled inside her chest. She would never inherit Rennedon Repairs. She would never be able to work as a mechanic. She would never work side-by-side with her father again, and perhaps even worse, her family was completely without a means of income. She would soon have to surrender herself to a life of mind-numbing labor as she fought to provide for her family.

Her father was getting too old to be useful on jobs that required intense physical labor. His best chance of securing a well-paying and reliable job was to find a job in the administration field and work hard to climb the ladder of ranks so he could earn enough to provide for all their expenses— Danny's schooling, their house, the food, and the heavy taxes the NUS imposed on all citizens of legal age. Her life was spiraling out of control, and worst of all, she was helpless to do anything to stop it.

She pushed herself to her feet, wiping her tears with her sleeve. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself and do something to help get her family out of this situation. Still torn between fuming at the NUS for tearing her life to pieces and grief for the life that now awaited her, she half-ran to the door and stumbled outside into the bitter fall air.