God's Dogs Book 2
Chapter 23

There never was a good war or a bad revolution.

Edward Abbey

Master Franco was correct. Over half the fourth-years were tagged by laser fire from the cadre’s training rifles. The personalized curriculum the four retired instructors put together was producing notable results.

It became a trend during the following months. Even when Quinn’s team reinforced the candidates’ resistance, the fourth-years were defeated, then the fifth-years, and finally a group of new graduates waiting for assignment.

Timi and Ronto acclimated to the high-stress environment of combat. Ronto was more natural at it, but Timi dug deep and found levels of courage and character she didn’t know she possessed.

Master Chin visited the team about four months into the program. The cadre and their instructors were back at the forest monastery for intensive training on mind attacks: offense and defense.

The team met Chin around picnic tables in an open-air patio outside the mess hall. The sky was busy with swirling clouds, but on the ground it was a pleasant 75º F with variable breezes.

Thin and spry, the elder Master Chin sat on the edge of a patio chair and told them, “We’ve ratified an interim agreement between the League and the Galactic Congress. We now have official, and more importantly, protected status in Congress space.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Moss queried.

“It makes what we do next,” Chin went on, “politically sanctioned.”

“And that is?” Moss persisted.

“Take the princess back. Provide for her protection. And challenge the forces arrayed against her status.”

“Well, that should be interesting,” Moss concluded.

“I take it we can’t delay any longer,” Quinn said and noted, “They could use more training.”

“We can’t delay any longer,” Chin replied. “The reports are that the four contending worlds are beginning to work out alliances. We must prevent that from happening.”

“That makes sense,” Quinn deferred. “What’s the plan?”

“Take the Satya to the Masul system. Reunite Timi and Ronto with the king and queen. The king will issue a proclamation that the savior – the official term is Camtok – is now trained and prepared to take up her duties.”

Chin observed their reactions and continued, “Yes. That will stir the pot. However, the announcement from the Congress, which will follow immediately on the king’s proclamation, will support her by providing a multi-species security team. That’s you, of course, and the Silvertonae squad. What happens after that is hard to predict.”

Pax said, “The shaman guild will send assassins.”

“And they will denounce her as an apostate or something,” River chimed in.

“That, at least, is predictable,” Chin agreed. “How the four competing worlds handle it is unclear. They definitely don’t want to be at cross-purposes with the Congress.”

“But they would support clandestine operations,” Moss pointed out.

“It is up to you,” Chin replied, “to make that option as unattractive as possible.”

“When do we leave?” Quinn asked.

“At the end of the week,” Chin answered. “The instructors will finish up what they are doing, and they will do what they can to prepare them for the coming ordeal.”

River said, “I’m glad you recruited them -- the instructors. They did a much better job than we could have.”

Chin smiled. “I’ll let them know.” Then he rose and left.

The team sat in the sun for a bit before Pax ventured, “This will be a shit storm.”

“Yep,” Moss agreed.

“Well,” Quinn said, “put some thought into how we structure security.”

“We still don’t know how good the bad shamans are,” Moss retorted.

Quinn smiled. “Assume they are as bad as that guy on Dresden.”

The Satya dropped out of hyper in the Masul system, broadcast her IFF, and was welcomed by a Congress light cruiser. Once the crew secured from FTL flight operations and rigged for conventional flight, they boosted toward the inner system.

Quinn was on the bridge and noticed the guard had changed from one destroyer to two light cruisers, a warship one size up from a destroyer, and a battlecruiser, three sizes up from a light cruiser.

The light cruisers were bigger, longer versions of a destroyer. The observable difference was the bulbous bow was narrowed down to a bullet shape, and it extended further, about a third of the length.

The battlecruiser was a different design altogether. Whereas the destroyers and light cruisers were meant to face an enemy bow-on, the battlecruiser was designed for broadsides, its flanks facing the enemy. Its shape was a long oval, like a cucumber with one end squared off. Ribbed sections along its length, six of them, housed its armament, or opened as flight bays, or missile tubes. Beneath the ribbed sections, behind another thick hull, were the bridge, command and control, living areas, and the engineering spaces. The ship’s length was over five kilometers, and the king and queen, along with Charvo’s platoon were aboard.

“Looks like they upgraded your ride,” Captain John Twin Bears commented.

Quinn replied, “Not to sound ungrateful, captain, but it will be nice to stretch our legs.”

The trip in-system took six hours. Then the Satya landed in one of the flight bays. The group disembarked to a nervous mom and dad, and the stoic presence of Charvo, Ikel, and Platoon Sgt. Massengat.

With the royal family united and Charlie squad returned to the platoon, Quinn’s team met with Charvo, Ikel, and Massi in a less cramped briefing room.

Charvo took charge. “Our covert ops team is on the planet and keeping track of the political maneuvering among the Masul, Berndt, and the agents of their respective sponsors. The other worlds of this local area have adopted a wait-and-see stance, and the sponsors of the sponsors are pressuring them to do the same. With any luck, we’ll be only dealing with two Marsul factions and the Berndt.”

Moss interjected, “Until the king’s proclamation lights them all up.”

Ikel nodded in agreement but asked, “Is she ready?”

“Not as ready as I would like,” Quinn answered. “But listen to what Charlie squad has to say. I have no way of comparing our training to other forms of shaman training you would know about.”

“Fair enough,” Charvo said.

Pax put in, “If you have information about the shaman guild, that would be useful.”

“Know your enemy,” Massi grunted. “It is a priority, but it’s a closed, secret society. We have a briefing packet for you, but it’s light on details and long on speculation.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Quinn observed.

Charvo said, “The proclamation will be broadcast tomorrow morning, and the Congress statement of support will go out an hour later.”

“Then the fun begins,” Moss muttered.

The meeting ended and the team settled into their new home. This time each of them warranted a small cabin. They were forward of the platoon’s area, which was near engineering. The team was also assigned its own common area.

After settling into the cabins, they met up in the common area to go over the briefing packets from Charvo, which included the text of the king’s proclamation.

“From the looks of this,” River began, referencing the proclamation, “Timi will be making a tour of the planets in this local area.”

“Yeah,” Moss sighed. “It looks like ten planets share the myth of the Camtok.”

Pax said, “What I don’t get is what they expect her to do.”

“Restore their former glory,” Moss snickered.

“Yeah. But how?” Pax wanted to know. “She sees it as healing from an existential level trauma. We know there are genetic markers for trauma, so healing would be a good thing. I don’t think the power elites share that vision.”

River chimed in, “I suspect the people do, or they will once they understand what she’s all about.”

Quinn commented, “It’s a busy itinerary. The king must want maximum exposure.”

“He did say he likes to lead with a knock-out punch,” Moss remembered.

“It will be a security nightmare,” Pax said.

“And the briefing on the Nebula Guild for Psychic Research is worthless,” River observed.

“Not entirely,” Moss smiled. “We know the shamans in this guild take themselves seriously. Way too serious for enlightened beings.”

The ‘grand tour,’ as Moss called it, would be aboard one of the light cruisers. The party would include the ‘royal cadre,’ the queen, the Guardians Barry and Ruski, Timi, and Quinn’s team.

Staying at Masul, where the grand tour would come to an end with a celebration, would be Ronto, the king, and the rest of the platoon. They would mostly stay aboard the battlecruiser, but frequent trips to the planet would be necessary. The politics were settling down, and a constitutional monarchy was in the offing. The question to resolve was how much power would reside with the monarchs.

When that was resolved, a peace treaty with Berndt – one that could endure – was possible. With that in place, the Congress agenda of free trade could be pursued more aggressively throughout this local area of space. When that occurred, Charvo’s mission would be complete. It was hoped that all of the above would be accomplished by the end of Timi’s grand tour.

Quinn’s mission, though, had become open-ended. He realized that as they approached the first world Timi would visit. The team’s goal was fuzzy, at best: establish Timi as the legitimate Camtok, and protect her from those that would prevent it.

Quinn was glad the Guardians were along. Their precognitive abilities gave them an edge. The elves, though, were an unknown. The plan was to use them as ceremonial escorts, which should be sufficient for overt problems. Quinn’s team would work the perimeter. Barry would be with the team; Ruski, with the main party. They were as ready as the lack of intelligence about the opposition would allow.

Three shuttles dropped from their ship, heading for a spaceport in the capitol city of the planet Nadira, a mostly agricultural world that exported exotic fruit. The spaceport was a secondary one used for diplomatic arrivals, and it was closer to the government buildings than the main spaceport.

The plan was to ride in cavalcade to the parliament where the queen and Timi would present themselves, offer their credentials as emissaries from Masul, and be welcomed by the peoples’ representatives.

The team disembarked first. Today they were in light armor. Quinn breathed the warm air of this planet and picked up on the earthy scent. Each planet seemed to have a distinctive scent, and this one was pleasant. He approached the waiting delegation of humanoids, some dressed in ceremonials robes, some in trousers and shirts.

Quinn picked out the security chief and approached him. “We’re the advance team. Is everything prepared as we agreed?”

The chief, a six-foot tall burly being that reminded Quinn of a forest gnome, answered with a nodding head, “We have followed your instructions. The evacuation plan, the route security, and the air cover. Do you need a guide for your team?”

“Thank you, no. Give us ten minutes before you start the parade.”

“Will do.”

The rest of the team had already melted into the crowd, activated the camouflage feature of their armor, and exited the spaceport. Quinn followed with Barry.

The route to the parliament building was about five miles. Most of the buildings along the route were one and two storey edifices built of stone and wood. Near the mid-point was a taller, five-storey building, and River would set up there. Moss and Pax edged through the crowd, one on each side of the boulevard, which was now filling with people.

Quinn and Barry walked down the street surveying the crowd. They made themselves conspicuous, which was easy to do because they surely didn’t resemble the natives.

The royal duo, mom and daughter, dressed in pastel blue and purple pantaloons and tunics, but with ceremonial blood red capes, rode in an open-air hover car with Ruski riding shotgun. The elves also sported capes that matched the royal duo, but under that was light armor. They flanked the slow-moving car.

The welcoming party piled into hover cars to follow behind them, once the parade began.

“In position,” River reported.

“Nothing weird yet,” Moss said.

“Mostly curiosity and excitement,” Pax checked in.

“Understood,” Quinn replied.

The cavalcade reached the parliament building without incident. The queen and Timi climbed out, and an escort showed them up the steps into the building. Once inside, they proceeded to the main parliamentary chambers.

On both sides of the center aisle, those in attendance stood and stomped their feet and called out greetings.

At the end of the aisle was a long, ornate wooden table situated upon a raised platform. Standing in front of the table were five dignitaries in their formal earth-toned robes.

Once the queen and Timi reached them, the two women offered bows.

Then the queen announced in a strong voice, “I am Queen Faturonalos of Masul, and this is my daughter, Princess Timianulos, who is also the long-awaited Camtok.”

“In position,” River’s voice came over the tac-net. She was now in the balcony.

Pax and Moss were at opposite sides of the room, flanking the congregation. Quinn and Barry were mixed in with the elves.

Both Barry and Ruski jerked into rigid postures, which Quinn had seen before.

“It’s going down,” he warned the team.

Pax said, “The door on your right, River.”

“Got him,” she said as she zeroed in on the man coming through the door.

He pulled a weapon, and she shot him.

“On the left,” Moss warned.

River pivoted to catch sight of a man coming from around the back of the raised platform. As he brought a weapon up, she shot him.

About then, the audience realized something was going on. Some dropped in place. Some made for the exits. But some surged toward the royal party. The in-house security began evacuating the people, leaving the royal party to fend for itself.

The elves were facing out, and easily subdued the dozen or so attackers from the crowd. They were using stun weapons, including River, as they needed prisoners to question.

Barry came out of his rigid state and said, “All of this is distraction. One of the five on the platform is the threat.”

Quinn moved behind the queen and Timi, who had both fallen back to be surrounded by the elves. He told them, “Trigger your shields.”

“Shield on,” Timi called out, and the elves gave her more space.

Quinn had insisted the queen and Timi wear combat skin-suits under their clothes. The skin-suits were equipped with dimensional shield technology. The problem was that anything the shield came in contact with was immediately sucked to an alternate universe. It took a while for the user to get used to that danger.

Quinn and the Guardians stepped in front of the group and faced the five on the stage.

One of them spoke, “You are an abomination, princess. We will end your miserable existence here.”

Quinn felt the power in his words. This was one of the shamans. Quinn tapped into those same powers: physical, nature, spirit, and the void. Then he spoke with an empowered voice, “Not today. Not ever.”

Quinn’s more empowered words broke what spell the other four on the stage were under, and they cowered off the platform.

Timi spoke to the shaman with empowered words, “I am an emissary of the Light. I bring healing and peace. What do you bring?”

“I bring judgment,” he shot back. “You will burn, fake prophet.”

“Take him,” Ruski said with some urgency.

Quinn shot him.

As the man fell, he burst into flames.

Ruski said, “He was armed with an incendiary weapon.”

Moss strolled up. “Guess we won’t be questioning him.”

“It’s all clear,” River said. “The crowd made it out. I see no more threats.”

“Okay. Shields off, Timi, Fah,” Quinn instructed. “Pax, round up the four politicians. Moss, grab the two River shot. Elves, dump those other stunned bad guys on the benches. We won’t need them.”

The group headed out a back exit to waiting vans that took them to the Masul embassy. Quinn made a note to thank the security chief for his diligence that the evacuation plan wasn’t compromised.

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