God's Dogs Book 2
49

Chapter 49

War is the remedy that our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them all they want.

William Tecumseh Sherman

The drama played out with no surprises. A Cass destroyer arrived in the system to support the coup, but a Congress destroyer, accompanied by a frigate, chased it off. Quinn and Pax met with the militia colonels, as the general was nowhere to be found. The ambassador headed for the second planet to deliver her message to that world.

River and Moss followed a similar operational plan, in that they met with the militia general. Concurrent with that meeting, the Congress operatives talked to the planetary judiciary as well as the press, and delivered the incriminating evidence about the coup to both.

When the ambassador arrived, she and her diplomatic party would meet with the executive committee of the parliament and drop the hammer.

The world of Gaston was a harsher world than others they visited. It was arid with steppes, deserts, and bald mountain ranges over much of the landmasses. Inland seas connected by wide rivers dotted the main continent, and a larger ocean covered about half the planet.

Offshore island chains paralleled the coast, and larger islands ran in chains perpendicular to the coastal ones.

The climate was hot, because the planet was at the inner edge of the Goldilocks zone, and the polar regions grew correspondingly smaller ice caps.

The main city was next to one of the large rivers, which sported greenbelts along each shore, and a population of two million. The majority of the population, some three billion, lived and worked the green belts next to the rivers, around the lakes, or along the ocean coast.

The majority race was the Surani, a hardier version of the Durani. They were also more upbeat than their dour genetic cousins.

The two Coyotes found housing in the transient quarter near the spaceport. That was where the mixed races of traders gave them some anonymity. Even so, they laid low. In the morning, the ambassador would arrive, and the hopefully final piece in this lengthy conflict would play out.

They were eating dinner at a neighborhood pub that was half full of patrons that shared the tired, stiff, and rumpled presence of travelers.

“I think the powers-that-be know what happened on Gobak,” Moss was saying.

“Probably,” River agreed. “Should make tomorrow’s meeting either anticlimactic or the start of a new crisis.”

“My vote is for anticlimactic.”

River smiled and went back to her salad before saying, “Do you think we’ll get a break after this is over?”

“It’s been intense, so I would expect so.”

“We’ve still got another year before block leave.”

“You feeling burned out?”

“Some. Yeah. I could do with some downtime at Coyote central.”

They finished up and headed for their rooms to sleep.

In the morning, they met the ambassador and her party at the spaceport. Of course, they showed up early to scout the place to make sure there wasn’t an ambush. Finding no evidence of one, they met the ambassador’s entourage at the shuttle and escorted them through to where the meeting would be held.

The parliament building was built on a sandstone motif: rounded edges on the one-storey buildings, beige color schemes on rough stucco walls, lots of windows and skylights, artwork in bold colors, and durable faux flagstone floors.

The halls were busy with the sturdier Surani people, who also wore brighter colors than their reserved cousins.

They entered a small audience chamber that required them to descend a series of platforms and steps between rows of empty theater-style seating to reach an oval table where the eight leaders of this world awaited them.

The marines posted one squad outside, while the other lined the wall by the door. Maria, Singh and his two aides, Moss and River made their way down to the table.

“Something’s wrong,” River sent over their tac-net.

One of the Durani at the table stood. “Greetings to you all. I’m Lord Driscom, the leader of the confederation.”

He lifted a hand and froze them all where they stood.

“Telekinesis,” Moss sent back. “Who is this guy?”

“One of those super bad guys,” River returned. “Read his energy.”

“Well, shit,” Moss replied. “Didn’t see this coming.”

Lord Driscom moved away from the table, and River noticed the others there were also frozen in place.

He spoke, “You have been a problem for some time, thwarting my plans, and you have now risen to the level where I must deal with you myself.”

‘Keep talking,’ River wished to herself as she relaxed her belly and took a few deep breaths. When she felt herself downshift enough, she connected with her sacred space in the spirit world. She paused for a moment to gaze out at the placid lake that was there, and then shifted to the plateau for physically manifesting spirits. Her spirit guide and guardian, a warrior woman in black armor, appeared in front of her.

“I need help,” River said.

Then River opened her eyes and took a long, slow releasing breath. She could feel the guide’s comforting presence behind her.

Drawing energy from three realms, nature, spirit, and the void, River flexed her body and broke free of the kinetic hold and stretched out her hand. With her body free, she added the power of the flesh to the energies accumulating in her body and stretched out her hand. With a mighty exhale, she forced-punched the dark shaman with the combined energy.

It struck whatever defensive screen he maintained, but the punch sent him back a step, and he lost control of the telekinetic freeze.

The others in the room began to move, but slowly, like swimming in mud.

River ordered, “Get down. Everyone, get down.”

Moss tracked what River had done and duplicated it. Now a spirit guardian stood behind him as well. No one knew why spirit guardians assigned themselves to those who made their way to the plateau of physically manifesting spirits, but they did. And they helped with spiritual battles in matter-of-fact ways.

“One candle breaks the darkness,” River whispered to remind herself on how to defeat one of these super bad guys.

Moss heard her and nodded. They both channeled the brilliant light of Divine Love through their bodies and out their palms to impact Lord Driscom.

The streams of energy flared against his shield like waves hitting solid rock, and he retaliated with javelins of sharp dark magic.

The guardians reacted by flicking the javelins aside, and the two Coyotes advanced on the dark shaman.

The space between them seethed and flared with clashing energy – waves of light crashing against bulging shadows. The dark folded over the light, engulfing it to spew out malevolent arrows. The guardians batted those into nothingness as the Coyotes closed the distance.

Driscom called forth his own demon allies, and the guardians leapt to battle them. River felt the loss of their protection.

“I’ll shield,” Moss said. “You attack.”

They had been practicing with the pocket dimension Raina came up with. River stored her butterfly swords there. Not knowing why, but trusting her intuition, she reached with her right hand into the pocket dimension and pulled the short swords free.

With one in each hand, she twirled them through full rotations. The energy she was channeling flowed into the swords. The swords began glowing hotter, acting like a magnifying glass focusing sunlight. Acting now on pure focused intent, she leaped through the intervening space and slashed the dark shaman – left backhand slash across his face, which snapped his shield, right forehand slash across his belly, a right kick to his knee. The she reversed the flow – backhand, forehand, kick. And again….

“River,” Moss called out. “He’s dead.”

She stopped, her whole body trembling, blood dripping from the blades of her swords.

“Fuck,” she breathed out.

“Yeah,” Moss said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She wiped the blades clean and returned them to the pocket dimension. Then she closed her eyes to connect with her spirit guardian. “Thank you,” she sent and felt the acknowledgement as the guardian returned to her home in the spirit realm.

Moss was directing traffic by now. The marines hustled the ambassador and Singh’s group to safety, while Moss attended to the ones cowering under the table. He held back two marine medics to help.

Ten minutes later, the local first responders showed up, including the police.

River stood, periodically trembling through her whole body, and watched the scene as it evolved. She felt disconnected from it all – dissociated into just observing her quivering body and the bustle around her. She knew it was the result of facing a super bad guy. It was one thing she never wanted to do again. The first time was a combination of terror and frantically pushing energy into the foul creature that left her drained in both a physical and spiritual way. This was no different. Terrified, she pushed past her limits in a berserker fury. She wondered if she would recover from this fight.

Finally, Moss came back to her. “Time to go, River.”

She nodded and followed him out the door.

Moss took her to their shuttle, a few spaces away from the ambassador’s. The Satya finished picking up Quinn and Pax and was scheduled to arrive shortly. He situated her in the chief’s command chair, which faced the hold just behind the pilot and co-pilot station.

“What do you need, River?”

“Just hold me until I stop shaking.”

“I can do that,” Mass grinned. “Mind if I sort things out while I do so?”

“No. Go ahead.”

He positioned himself on his knees before her and held her close, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Chief, that shaman was using his minions like batteries for his power. Let the locals know to round them up. I’ll need to deal with them.”

“How will they know?”

Moss chuckled. “Confused, shock, wandering aimlessly, amnesia, stuff like that.”

“Okay, Moss, but will they buy it?”

“Yeah. I showed the first responders what it looked like. Four of the ones we met in the audience hall were minions.”

“Okay. I’m on it,” the burly chief petty officer said and exited the shuttle.

“Dave,” Moss spoke to the pilot. “Check in with the ambassador. Let her know what I told the chief. I briefed the marine medics on what to do with the minions, but we need a stronger response. The bad guy wasn’t from this planet. He will have minions on, at least, his home world. Have her alert the Congress to the problem.”

“Okay,” the pilot replied and keyed his comms.

River’s tremors were subsiding enough so that she could inhabit her ego-system enough to say, “Fuck, that was close.”

“Not from where I was standing,” Moss snorted. “Your swords blazed like liquid fire, and you chopped him up like a food processor – a blur of flashing blades. And you didn’t even need the shield I was bring up for us.”

River smiled a sad grin and said, ’I think I’m finally catching up with myself.”

“Good. We’ve got some explaining to do.”

“The cops?”

“Them. Barry and Ruski. Maria is still in shock, probably. Singh and his people are better off – they’ve seen us in battle before. The marines – well, they’re marines. The others in the room hid under the table. We can sweet-talk them.”

“Well, it wasn’t anticlimactic, like we hoped.”

Moss snorted again. “No, but I think it was the grand finale.”