God's Dogs Book 2
Chapter 6

Religious wars are not caused by the fact that there is more than one religion, but by the spirit of intolerance... the spread of which can only be regarded as the total eclipse of human reason.

Charles de Secondat

When that assignment concluded, they returned to Master Lu’s office.

“Well, I didn’t get too many complaints from the off-world battalion commanders,” Lu smiled at them. “Did you take it easy on them?”

Moss grinned back. “They were blooded. They took our little tricks in stride, for the most part.”

“Except when you came flying out of a tree looking like a vampire,” Pax commented.

“That was fun,” Moss conceded. “Dracula rules, you know.”

“Okay,” Lu went on, “your next assignment is back to the Galactic Congress.”

Moss groaned, his winged adventures as a vampire forgotten.

Lu explained, “We’re trying to make up diplomatic ground.”

“Not our long suit,” Pax pointed out.

“We’re hoping in this case, the assignment itself will do what’s necessary,” Lu said. “Two planets are at war. There are historical reasons for that, and the Congress would just as soon let them work it out until they realize their grudge war is stupid. However, there is a religious cult that protects a grotto sacred to one of the worlds. Since it’s not a military target, and since the other world has decided to target it to demoralize its enemies, and since the Congress long ago declared that grotto the equivalent of a ‘heritage site,’ your job will be to protect the grotto and those cult members that attend to it.”

“The other world has been warned?” Quinn asked.

“Yes. They said they would take it under advisement.”

“Which means they will attack it, or at least leave it as an objective.”

“The Congress informed us they were sure it would be attacked, and probably sooner rather than later.”

“Our rules of engagement?”

“Protect the site and the people there.”

Quinn looked to his team. River spoke up, “That’s the set-up for us, isn’t it? We have an open mandate, and they will judge us on both our methods and the final result.”

“Yes,” Lu replied.

“Should be fun,” Moss said as he rolled his eyes.

“You leave immediately. Satya will rendezvous with Eladon’s ship and he will take you to the SpecOps base you were attached to before. From there you’ll proceed to the target planet and protect the sacred grotto and its people.”

They rose and headed out. After grabbing their gear, they boarded the cutter, Satya, which was at the landing pad by the Coyote compound, and flew into space.

Lt. Commander Jerry Yamato, the ship’s XO, met them after they boarded and settled into their rooms, and said, “Good to see you, Quinn. Hope you guys had a good vacation. We’re lining up for our pick up and it should be an easy flight. Anything you guys need?”

“No, Jerry,” Quinn answered. “Tell the captain we’re good, and we’re glad to be back.”

They docked within Eladon’s more advanced ship, and the golden holo-vision of Eladon appeared.

“As before, you are restricted to your vessel. We will make this crossing in about four days. Pleasant journey.”

After four days, the Satya backed out of Eladon’s ship to dock at the Congress space station they visited before. It was a massive series of spokes around a central spindle. Each spoke contained the environment for a different species within the Galactic Congress. Also, as before, two Guardians awaited the team as they exited the docking airlock.

River spoke up, “Is that you, Barry and Ruski?”

They both uttered the rasping noise humans interpreted as laughter, and one spoke, “Yes, Coyote River. We are assigned to you again.”

Moss asked, “Do we have the same commander this time, or did they promote him for his incompetence?”

“You’ll see,” Barry answered. He was the one with a baritone voice, while Ruski sported a Russian bass voice, within their plated dark bodies and triangular heads.

They marched off toward the central spire, took an elevator down one level to the offices, and proceeded to a different room this time. It was a conference room and a group of six beings awaited them.

Two were the triceratops-looking bipeds, known as Sentic, like Barry and Ruski, and they sported green pauldrons on their left shoulders; two were five-foot tall humanoids that resembled elves, with long ears and quick motions, but their eyes were large, dark, and penetrating; the final two were lanky humanoids with narrow faces and odd placement of eyes, nose, and mouth.

One of the lanky ones spoke, “Please be seated.”

They all sat except for Quinn, who said, “I’m Quinn, leader of this Coyote team, and I greet you on behalf of Penglai Foreign Service.”

The lanky leader waved the greeting aside and countered, “We know who you are, and your greeting is acknowledged. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be here at all. As a rule, the Congress does not approve of unpredictability in its foreign policy. We have followed well thought out formulas for resolving inter-stellar conflicts for over a thousand years. They work, and when they don’t work exactly, they are refined so that they work better. It is a sure method for approaching conflict resolution.”

One of the elf-beings interjected, “Except when they don’t work at all, Leander. Then we fumble around until we stumble onto something that may work.”

One of the Sentic intervened, “We need not rehash the arguments. The Congress has spoken, and this team is charged with an assignment.”

“I know,” Leander drawled. “I asked to be here so that they know our resistance to their methods.”

Moss couldn’t keep quiet and said, “What do you know of our methods, other than the one assignment we fulfilled?”

Leander leaned in. “That was enough, by itself. You were charged with passive surveillance, and you exceeded that mandate.”

“We ended a war,” Moss countered.

“You exceeded the mandate,” Leander shot back.

Pax intervened, “In accomplishing our mandate, the opportunity arose to end the war. Is it your policy to refuse such opportunities?”

The elf said, “That’s why you are here. It is not our policy to ignore such opportunities, but we need some kind of assurance that you have the discipline and restraint to stay within certain bounds of acceptable behavior.”

Quinn said, “In that case, we understand the assignment this time is to protect a sacred grotto and its inhabitants.”

“Correct,” the Sentic said. “Here are your orders.”

He slid a data cube across the table to Quinn, and then he went on, “Eladon’s ship will take you further in, as this conflict is quite a ways from here. Eladon will present you to the religious leaders and depart. The leaders will provide you with their protocols.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Quinn said. “What’s the catch?”

“If I understand your meaning, the catch is that there is already a ground war on the planet. We suspect there will be attempts to destroy the grotto soon. How you handle that eventuality will give us more data on whether or not we deem you trustworthy.”

“So it’s a test,” Moss threw back on the table.

“Simply said, yes,” the Sentic answered. “A determining factor is that we have also reviewed after action reports on a few hundred Coyote team assignments in the war between the Empire and the League. Because, on the whole, we noted the outcomes of those actions were within acceptable bounds, we have decided to employ you again.”

Moss grinned. “Have you got published data on what you mean by ‘acceptable bounds?’ It would be nice to know what we’re being measured against.”

The elf answered with a return grin, “It’s more like a policy statement – something that’s beneficial to all concerned.”

Moss continued to grin. “Sort of like what we already did when we were here before.”

“Yes,” the elf replied. “I think the means for achieving that outcome was the difficult part for many to support.”

River spoke up, “Don’t you have shamans?”

“We do,” the elf said. “Many other cultures do not. We could follow what you did, even if we didn’t fully grasp how you did it, so we didn’t have a problem.”

Leander butted in, “The spiritual realm is chaotic and most beings become lost in those clashing tides of energy. You could unleash as much mayhem as good by employing such methods.”

“Is it psychosis or spiritual emergency?” Pax posed the question. “We understand that argument. On Penglai, and on our homeworld Earth before it, we began answering that question. At this stage of our understanding, we at least know which is which.”

The elf chuckled. “I think you know much more than that.”

Leander sniffed instead. “That is to be seen. I fervently hope that you do not make things worse.”

Quinn stood. “Will the Guardians be coming with us again?”

“Yes,” the Sentic said.

“Good,” Quinn replied and headed for the door. The team followed.

The Satya exited Eladon’s ship at the target planet, Ditya. The team flew down, aboard one of Satya’s shuttles, to their assigned coordinates, which was just outside the grotto. Once there, the team and the Guardians exited the shuttles, which climbed to rejoin Satya. It would remain in low orbit around the planet, squawking Congress diplomatic codes, so that the ship should be safe where it was.

The beings that met the team resembled giant sloths, minus the claws and slow movement. They were less hairy as well, but long-limbed and a round face with low brows over exaggerated facial features. The ten member group that met them wore ground length capes in colors of different earth tones – brown, green, yellow, amber, and so on. The apparent leader’s face carried more grey fur on it, and he did walk slower than the others. Also, clasping his cape at his throat was an ornate gold-colored chain with a central medallion.

“Welcome to Ditya,” he spoke. “I am Telaxon, the high priest for Rhianu, our Mother Nature.”

Quinn saluted him from a right kick-stance, right fist extended and left open-hand cupping the right wrist. “I am Quinn, team leader. Thank you for your welcome.”

“Come with us,” Telaxon said. “We can talk as we walk.”

A few of the other Dityanese rushed forward to carry their gear, as the team walked with Telaxon and the other cult members.

Quinn looked around at the grotto before him, and it was obvious why this was a ‘heritage site.’ The grotto resembled an oak grove in some ways, but these trees towered to a couple of hundred feet. Their limbs were thick, and the foliage was a dense canopy of shimmering blue leaves – many different hues of blue, from pale to almost purple. The trees, some ten feet wide, didn’t crowd one another, which left ample space between them for numerous streams of slow-moving creeks lined with blooming shrubs of white, red, and yellow flowers. Pathways meandered through the grotto, and Quinn could hear a distant waterfall. The grotto was at least fifty acres in size, and sat in a shallow valley that was backed by a sharp-faced plateau.

The air on this planet carried the scent of its flowers, which while strange was subtle rather than overpowering. The pungency of the earth smells caught in the back of the throat, but it was also not unpleasant. A cooler sun radiated shafts of light through the few breaks in the canopy, and the warmth of the season was stirred by a gentle breeze. It was a stunning place on many levels – visually, aromatically, and spiritually.

Full-bodied birds with bright plumage flittered about on their business above the wood-chipped paths. They took one path to a series of one-storey houses that fit well within the landscape. In front of a group of dwellings was a large fire-pit with benches around it. Telaxon led them there and invited them to sit.

“We were told you have your own training in the nature sciences. Is that true?”

Pax answered, “It is true. We have noticed the entities that are tending to the plants and trees and waterways are pleased with their tasks. They are also curious, and not a little bit fearful about our presence.”

Telaxon smiled, and it showed an abundance of teeth. “They are picking up on our anxiety about both the war between us and the Norumans, as well as our trepidation about having a foreign Special Operations team here to protect the grotto.”

“How was that decision made?” River wanted to know.

“We don’t trust our own government,” Telaxon replied. “If the Norumans destroy the grotto, it would enflame our people to greater warlike fury. Our government might see that as a good thing.”

River pressed on, “Would they try to destroy it themselves and blame it on the Norumans?”

“You never know,” Telaxon said with a sad look on his face. “We are a secular, space-faring race, and much emphasis is on hard science, which means a devaluation of the soft sciences for many. The loss of this grotto is less important to them than it is to the Congress, which is itself a sad commentary on our current state of being.”

Quinn said, “That may complicate our mission, but I don’t see that it changes it any. Our mandate is to protect the grotto. Where do you want us to set up?”

“There is a guest house. We have taken your gear there. I planned for you to use that as a base but I suspect you will spend most of your time on the periphery of the grotto. Am I seeing this right?”

“You are,” Quinn replied. “Are there any restrictions we should know about?”

“We have morning and evening prayers, and midnight ceremonies when each of our two moons becomes full. Otherwise, we have minimized our staff to volunteers, and cut back on other ceremonies and rituals until this crisis is over. There are only a hundred of us now.”

“We shouldn’t be in your way,” Quinn assured him.

“On the contrary,” Telaxon smiled his sad smile again. “We are honored you are here. It seems you do understand the importance of this site.”

A younger looking Dityanese arrived, and Telaxon gestured for the team to follow him. He led them a bit deeper into the grotto to a building that resembled a small barracks.

The younger male said, “This is our visitor center. It is closed until the war is over. You will have it to yourselves. It is equipped with facilities that should work for you.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said and entered the building.

The youth continued, “We hope you are successful in protecting this place of honor for our Mother.”

“So do we,” Pax said and laid a reassuring hand on the youth’s shoulder.

They unpacked their gear and donned their light armor, strapped on drop-down holsters for their handguns, and attached their rifles to the magnetic locks on their backs. Then they exited the barracks and went their separate ways to reconnoiter the ground they would be protecting. The Guardians stayed in the barracks.

Moss headed for the cliff that marked the beginning of the plateau. It was about a mile away. He opened himself to the qi-field fully and began feeling the flow of energy. It was a coherent field that lay like a fog permeating everything, and then it condensed into trees, shrubs, animals, birds, and insects. Each form was unique and vibrant in its own way, and Moss saw it as different colors for different classes of creatures, trees, or shrubs.

For the moment, he just soaked it all in and moved with the flows of energy, trying not to disturb any of them. Different landscapes carried their own signature patterns, and he was discerning the one for the grotto. While he did so, he shared space with his implant A.I., who named himself Ari.

Over the years after Ari achieved sentience, they set up a shared space in Moss’ consciousness for achieving certain tasks. Most of the time, they maintained their separate identities and collaborated in problem-solving. Sometimes, though, when the problem was reluctant, the shared space, which blended them in some ineffable way, provided a synergy that activated Moss’ unconscious resources. In the moment, though, Moss just wanted to share the profound wealth the grotto represented.

Ari tried to appreciate it, but knew he was falling short of the type of appreciation Moss was experiencing. It was a common situation, though, and Ari was content to provide witness to Moss’ appreciation, while Ari mapped and analyzed his surroundings.

With a tactical eye, Moss identified ambush sites, sniper hides, likely routes an attacking force would use to infiltrate the grotto, and other points of interest. Quinn and Pax were conducting similar surveys, while River stayed at the base to talk to the inhabitants. Their A.I.s shared the information so that each of them ended up with a detailed, tactical map of the area.

River approached a group of Dityanese and engaged them around the fire-pit.

“Hi, I’m River, and I wanted to know what your plans are for protecting the grotto.”

A somewhat older male, River figured he was older and male, answered her, “We are not soldiers, but we, as a race, evolved from hunters. Our plan was to hide and try to ambush whatever force invades.”

“Do you have weapons?” River wondered.

“No. They aren’t allowed in the grotto.”

“What about now? The intelligence is that an attack is imminent.”

“Even so, we cannot violate the ban. We will do what we can to help you.”

River grimaced, her even features scrunching into finally a frown. “Can you climb? It might be a good idea for you guys to drop on them from above.”

“We are arboreal. We could do that.”

River heard from Quinn after that remark. Through her implant comm channel he said, “Array them about half way to the forest edge. See if there are enough of them to get a complete circle. If not, pull them closer to the center until you do.”

River glanced back to the older male. “We want you to provide us with an inner circle with no more than fifty yards between one person and the next. Let’s see if we can set that up.”

The older male whistled, and the other residents of the grotto hustled over. As River waited with him, she asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Dijanni,” he said. “It means something like the bending of the sapling tree before the wind.”

“Has that been true for you? Do you have that kind of resilient personality?”

“It is something I strive for but never perfect.”

River chuckled. “Yeah. It’s a process not a destination. I’ve met that truism in my own training.”

As evening came, and the residents returned from their intended posts at the inner periphery, Telaxon called them all to the fire-pit. A small fire was now burning, and Telaxon stood near it. The team took seats on the benches surrounding the fire-pit, but the Guardians remained at the barracks.

Telaxon said, “We will welcome our brothers and sister from the stars and introduce them to our Mother.”

With that, a slow drumming began. It seemed that all the races in the galaxy found the drum, which was known on Earth as the ‘heartbeat of Mother Earth.’ It was a universal constant, perhaps because it mimicked the heartbeat of every planet that supported humanoid life.

With the incessant drumming, the sacred fire burning, and the intent of those gathered, the presence of this planet’s Mother began to emerge. The Coyotes, of course, picked up on her presence immediately, but they waited patiently for Telaxon to go through his ritual of welcoming the planetary deity and then presenting the Coyotes to her.

She appeared as an idealized version of the Dityanese, draped in her own shimmering green cloak. When she brought her attention to the Coyotes, she told them, “Welcome to my world. Your qi is different but not in a bad way, and I have registered it as an ally. The spirit helpers will aid you if necessary, but I hope the destruction you are capable of is not necessary.”

Quinn replied, “As do we, Rhianu. Thank you for your welcome. Your followers have treated us well, and we are grateful for their hospitality.”

A tinkling laugh was the response, and the Mother said, “You know the formulas for dealing with us, I see. Your own Mother would be proud.”

The following day, a delegation from the planetary government showed up. The team was continuing its survey of the local landscape, but Quinn hustled back to the central area accompanied by the Guardians.

An ornate shuttle arrived at the landing area, and guards along with a couple of dignitaries exited the ship. The guards wore their own version of light armor, while the dignitaries wore cloaks that were decorated with embroidery and semi-precious jewels.

They advanced, and Telaxon stepped forward. “Brontius, what brings you here?”

Brontius replied, “We are concerned for your safety and the safety of this sacred grotto.”

“Since when?” Telaxon challenged as he stepped forward.

“Always,” was the smug response. “We needed to figure out how to allocate forces for your defense.”

“The Congress has provided the defense. You can re-allocate your forces to your grudge match with the Norumans.”

“Well, about that," he declared in a dismissive tone. "We can’t allow the Congress to usurp our responsibilities. We will be moving a force in to provide protection.”

One of the Guardians stepped forward and spoke, “According to Galactic Law, a heritage site is under the protection of the Congress. You may bring your forces in, but only to supplement the forces already here, and those forces will be under the command of Coyote Quinn.”

That seemed to fluster Brontius, but he recovered and said, “That is not acceptable. I will protest to the Congress.”

“As is your right,” Barry said. Quinn identified him by his slightly higher pitched voice. “Until then, any forces deployed here are under Quinn’s command.”

Brontius didn’t answer. Instead he turned abruptly and headed back to his shuttle. The guards and the other dignitary followed him.

Telaxon smiled. “He’s not a pleasant person, Quinn. If he deploys troops, they will not accept you as their leader, but I don’t think he will deploy anyone. He probably figures that the Norumans should have little trouble overpowering our small force.”

Quinn returned the smile. “And he’ll probably let the Norumans know how small a force we have.”

Barry made the scratchy sound of laughter, while Telaxon’s smile broadened as he remarked, “Probably.”

The attack came after midnight. Since the rules of engagement within the Congress worlds disallowed orbital bombardment, and the Dityanese ground forces employed layers of anti-aircraft sites, the assault was ground forces jumping onto the plateau. They regrouped after their high altitude jump and planned to boil over the lip of the plateau into the grotto.

The edge of the plateau wasn’t a sheer cliff; rather it was a crumbling wall that reached two hundred feet from valley floor to the top of the plateau. River was perched on an outcropping more than halfway up that jutted out from the wall so that she could see for quite a ways along the face of the wall. She also found easy access through a cut in the wall to the top of the plateau. She watched the troops land and form up. She called in their location and fell back to her sniper’s nest to wait.

Quinn arrayed the Dityanese in their tree perches. Then he, Moss, and Pax found spots between the plateau and the beginning of the forest to wait for the troops. Barry and Ruski sat in plain view about where they figured the middle of the enemy formation would arrive.

River relayed on comms, “Looks like two companies. They’re spreading out to come from two angles. So, maybe about a hundred yards between one formation and the other.”

Quinn asked, “Have they started repelling down yet?”

“Just now. So, yeah, here they come.”

The team’s implant A.I.s were now on their own battle-net and linked in all the known data from each team member so that each could have a panoramic or strategic view of the battle space. Then the A.I.s assisted with target selection and movement. On each team member’s HUD (heads-up-display) the opening gambit of the conflict was mapped.

The Guardians, since they were tied into the combat channel, split up so each could address the company commanders of both companies.

When they were in position, they called out through their suit speakers: “This is a Galactic Congress Guardian speaking to you Noruman soldiers. This grotto is a heritage site that is under the protection of the Congress. You will withdraw from here upon penalty of death.”

Laser fire was the answer, and the Guardians hurried to cover. River took the fire on the Guardians as her signal to begin picking off the company commanders and senior NCOs as Becky, her A.I., identified them. The rest of the team opened up with rail-gun fire and rifle-launched grenades.

After the first barrage, Moss, Pax, and Quinn ghosted into the troops’ lines. They switched to melee weapons and their side-arms. Their camo made it difficult for the troops to identify them, and the speed with which they decimated the troops quickly demoralized them.

Soon, the remaining troops dropped their weapons, knelt on the ground with their arms up, pleading for surrender.