God's Dogs

We don’t rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.

Archilochus

After weeks of travel, during which Linda absorbed quite a bit of Coyote training, they arrived at Amazonia. Half water, half land, Amazonia was 1.2g. Not technically a high gravity world, but it would take some getting used to. Captain John had slowly increased the ship’s gravity over the weeks to make their adjustment easier.

The land masses were three continents. One stretched north to south. One was an irregular oval going east to west. And one draped the north pole with fingers reaching down past the Arctic Circle.

The oval continent was more heavily populated due to climate and landscape. A series of plains and plateaus, steppes and savannas dominated its geography. These were carved up by mighty rivers that sliced Grand Canyon sized ribbons through the continent. Cities lined the rivers, using the water to irrigate vast tracks of farmlands and sprawling ranches.

The north-south continent was mountainous. It looked like the spine of the world. Steep, towering mountain ranges sat atop an impressive massif. Those who lived here lived mostly in coastal cities.

On the northern continent, the hearty population lived by the sea as well, along fjords that sported rich sea life.

There were three small moons circling Amazonia. Like other planets, there were numerous space stations, factories, asteroid mining facilities, and the accustomed space infrastructure required of a star-faring world.

Some ten billion people lived on and around Amazonia, a third in space. The political structure was nation-states to administer local interests, and a congress of representatives from each nation-state, space stations, and the asteroids and other off-world habitats to deliberate their solar system interests. A further assembly of both planetary and space-based colonies administered interstellar interests.

It was a fairly loose political structure that relied upon a consensus-building model of governance. That required a highly educated citizenry that was both emotionally mature and comfortable with abstract reasoning, critical thinking, and saw win-win solutions to conflict as their first option.

The educational system was based on the old Earth model of Waldorf schools, which strove to educate in a holistic way – mind, body, and spirit. In primary school, the teaching methodology was through feelings, dramatic stories, and imagery. During secondary school, the subjects were deciphered through presentation, discussion, reflection, and critical thinking, but the artistic was not forgotten. Indeed, the philosophy that underpinned the curriculum emphasized imagination as key to learning. One of the continuous challenges teachers presented students was how to grow and integrate the intellectual, practical, and artistic talents each student possessed in seed form.

Their spiritual practices emphasized the Nature level – the qi-field, but they did acknowledge the archetypal in a unique way. Celtic belief was that heaven existed on earth, and it was man’s job to claim it. Various monasteries and abbeys dotted the countryside where monks and nuns reminiscent of earlier Christian times built communities. Soul-friends taught various meditation practices, and that, coupled with manual labor, brought the practitioners to a high state of connection with the spirit of the land. Saints were remembered, and living saints were not uncommon. Those dedicated themselves to humanitarian efforts.

The military, like most worlds, was organized as primarily a rite of passage institution. All able-bodied men and women served two years in uniform after completing their primary education. Those who continued with the military specialized in the various elements involved in planetary defense. By default, this meant guerrilla warfare, logistics, strategy, and tactics.

Quinn was curious to see what this combination of factors – the unique primary education, the spiritual practices, and the military training – produced as an end result.

Satya docked initially at the space station reserved for customs, immigration, and diplomatic visits.

Linda took over to gain their clearance to travel to the planet. Their final destination was on the north-south continent, Hildestatt. That was where the military headquarters were located, at the foot of a mountain range.

It was a sprawling complex of administration buildings, training barracks, airfields, and their assorted support structures.

Satya landed at an auxiliary spaceport next to what Linda told them was a barracks for transient officers. A delegation from the leadership met them as they disembarked.

The team wore their dress uniforms, as did the crew in their dress blues. Those that greeted them included a general and his staff, as well as a representative from the League Marshal’s office.

Linda led them down the rear ramp. She, too, was dressed for the occasion. She saluted the general and introduced the Penglai delegation. The crew saluted in a normal manner, and the Coyotes gave their distinctive salute.

The general stepped forward to shake their hands. He was an imposing six-foot tall, heavily muscled man. His close-cropped brown hair was laced with gray at the temples. His smile lit up his blockish face and warm brown eyes.

“General Tommy Swain,” he told them. “I am surprised, pleased, even somewhat intimidated by your mission. Senator Morrison continues to surprise us.”

Quinn instantly liked the man. He allowed a small smile and said, “We’re somewhat intimidated by the mission as well. How do you think we should begin?”

“First, I think you should settle in, get acclimated, have Corporal Morrison show you around. Then we will convene a planning session with our command staff.”

“Sounds good,” Quinn said.

Linda moved toward the Marshal as the group broke up. “Billy McIntyre. What are you doing here?”

The Marshal grinned. He was fair-skinned, ruddy cheeks, a pleasant but hard-chiseled face, and a stout body clothed in the League blue and grey Marshal uniform. “I sort of bullied my way onto the introduction team. I heard you were part of it.”

“I am,” Linda smiled back. “It’s good to see you again. How long has it been?”

“Since our parents were stationed here. Maybe five years ago.”

“And now you’re a Marshal. What prompted that career?”

“I like being a cop.”

Linda introduced him to the team and he walked with them to their lodging.

They settled into the barracks, toured the facility, met more people than they could remember, ate well, and were fully ready to get to work after the two days it took for the command staff to be ready for them.

The team couldn’t help but tease Linda on the strapping young Marshal.

“So,” Moss began as they walked to the cafeteria, “it’s Billy, is it?”

Linda smiled. “I didn’t think of that. He’s probably a proper William now that he’s a Marshal.”

“Cute butt,” Moss went on.

Linda flushed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

The team chuckled disbelieving at that response, which caused Linda’s flush to deepen.

“I think he likes you,” River offered as a save.

“We were friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Moss countered.

“No, really.”

“Uh-huh,” River interrupted. “It’s okay to like the guy, Linda, and I pretty sure he likes you as well.”

“I can vouch for that,” Pax said, which caused them all to chuckle.

The first, formal meeting was held at the main building in a large conference room. The table was a blond wood work of art. The chairs were plush leather. The room was furnished with the latest holographic equipment and communication station. Side tables held drinks and finger food.

Two dozen officers and senior NCOs awaited the team. The Marshal wasn’t in attendance, though. The Marshal’s office wasn’t in the loop when it came to the war. When the team entered, now dressed in simple skin-suits, they were met with a standing ovation.

‘It’s all just experience,’ Quinn reminded himself, and he was able to ease himself into a place of gratitude. Being in gratitude, he knew, short-circuited the grasping ego and cushioned most everything.

They found their places at the table as the applause died down. Quinn stayed standing as the other sat.

He addressed the room, “Thank you for your warm welcome and for the hospitality you’ve shown us. There will be both conscious and unconscious resistance to our goal of inducting Amazonian fighters into our ranks. If we can use that resistance to our advantage, rather than defending egos or falling into turf wars, we may succeed.”

Quinn sat, and General Swain said, “We have a long history of preferring consensus building. I am optimistic.” Then he turned to his right and said, “Colonel?”

A sharp-faced colonel stood. “I’m Colonel Bains. I run our SpecOps program. First, I think it prudent that we know what Coyotes are all about. We’ve heard stories, but the truth…”

Moss chuckled. “The truth, colonel, is more fantastic than any of the stories I’ve heard.”

River put a hand on his arm and interjected, “Let us show you. While Moss would enjoy regaling you with war stories, they are just words. Set up a training scenario. We will defeat it.”

The colonel looked around the room. “Anyone?”

A stout master sergeant offered, “I’ll like to see if they can defeat the Castle exercise.”

“Of course, you would,” another sergeant muttered. “You designed it.”

The colonel looked at the team. “And no one, so far, has beat it. We use it as a no-win exercise to test how our troops handle no-win situations.”

Quinn nodded. “Set it up. Give us the briefing material. We’ll attack it as soon as you’re ready. What I recommend is that we include you in our comm net so you can follow along with how we do things.”

The general chuckled at that and motioned for his staff to begin preparations.

The meeting broke up soon after. Corporal Morrison obtained the briefing packet, set up the comm conversion, and met with the team later that day.

Quinn was in a spirited conversation with the Satya crew. They had busied themselves with getting to know their opposite numbers in the Amazonian ranks. From their report, the entire base was excited about the mission. The Coyote mystique, the idea that Amazonians could be in the same league with them, and the prospect of mounting an offensive against the Empire was energizing morale.

Captain John was saying, “A lot of Amazonian spacers have been killed in the space battles. There’s still a lot of grief about that.”

Linda, who walked up about then, explained, “We’re highly recruited by the League, just like Penglai must be. We’ve lost a disproportionate number of our people than other worlds. We’re ready to take the fight to the enemy.”

The Castle exercise was a simple extraction from a fortified building. The package was in an underground dungeon. There were four layers to the defense: outside the building, inside the building, outside the dungeon, inside the dungeon.

They studied the floor plan, troop distribution, ingress and egress locations, and all the other relevant details.

Pax eventually said, “There’s something they’re not telling us. Some other threat.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed. “Could be combat bots in the walls, or a ready alert air drop squad, or some kind of self-destruct tied to the package.”

“All of the above,” Moss helped out.

“We’ll need to interrogate someone that knows what’s really going on,” Pax said.

“Who would have the need to know?” River questioned.

“The guy in the big office,” Moss replied plopping his finger on an upstairs office.

Quinn nodded. “Okay. We sneak past everybody. Nab the boss. Interrogate him. Then we extract the package while simultaneously ambushing whatever the surprise might be.”

“They could have given us something harder,” Moss complained.

River punched him in the arm.

The op went off per plan. The surprise was indeed a fast response platoon that landed one flyer on the roof and two flyers on opposite sides of the building, thereby blocking any exfiltration attempts.

Moss and River took down those exiting the flyer on the roof and commandeered the flyer, while Quinn and Pax hustled the package up to the roof. Then they flew off with the package, who happened to be Linda. She giggled the whole way to the rendezvous point.

The next day, they met in the same conference room for the debrief.

Colonel Bains stood to face the subdued command group. “It was too easy. You got the secret before the OpFor even knew they were under attack.”

“It’s what we do,” Moss said. “Every battle is won before it is fought.”

“Sun Tzu,” the colonel muttered. Then he turned to Pax. “Does every Coyote team include an empath?”

“Yes. An empath, a medic, a hacker, and a tactician. We cross-train as well. Empathy is merely one use of the qi-field, what you call Awen.”

The general spoke. “We haven’t explored the military use of those states of consciousness.”

“The Native Americans did,” Pax responded. “Many of those tribes emigrated to Penglai during the Expansion.”

“Interesting,” the general said. “And this is part of your training?”

“Yes, but it requires years of meditation prior to the formal Coyote training. Our children begin meditating at a young age.”

Quinn cut in, “It’s why Master Chin thought Amazonians could adapt to our training. You have a meditation emphasis in your educational system. Your minds could take up the challenge.”

“How would you set it up?” the general asked.

Quinn smiled and handed over a folder. “Give us a platoon of your SpecOps people, and we’ll run them through a six-week course. There are pre and post evaluations included in the packet.”

The general sighed. “You are well organized, Quinn. We’ll do this and see what happens.”