Any Port In A War: An Alien Galactic Military Science Fiction Adventure (Enemy of my Enemy Book 1)

by Tim Marquitz

  “Conquering hero, my tail,” Lina muttered, following suit and punching him in the arm. “You scared us half to death.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” he replied, inching away from his furious crew members, “but I wouldn’t take it back for anything.” A grin slithered to his lips once more, and he stepped aside, allowing the crew to see the other shadow that come into the tunnel with him.

  Taj stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “J-Jadie?” Torbon’s aunt smiled, wrinkles setting her whiskers to trembling. “You got her out?” Taj shouted, diving once more to hug Jadie, only pulling back at the last instant to keep from driving the woman into the wall.

  “Bloody Rowl, it’s great to see you. I was so worried they were gonna…” Taj let the sentence drift away, deciding it best not to spoil the moment with too much honesty. She squeezed Torbon’s aunt tighter. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too,” she answered, grinning, seeming as unwilling to release Taj as Taj did her. They clung to each other, Lina joining the embrace a moment later. They simply stood there, hugging as if they might never let go.

  It wasn’t until Taj cleared her head and remembered how many other hostages there were in the barn that she eased away, guilt pecking at her like a murder of angry crows. “What about the others?” she asked Torbon.

  His smile faltered at that. “I snuck out about ten others, but the soldiers must have realized it was all a distraction and circled back around to us. We barely made it into the desert before they sealed the barn off again. I-I…” he sucked in a deep breath, looking as if he wanted to break down and cry. “I couldn’t get any more.”

  Taj leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You did great, apart from all the tail-poofing.” She offered him a soft smile. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.” Taj looked over at Jadie. “Both of you. I truly am.”

  Jadie grabbed Torbon and pulled him close. “Me, too, nephew.” Torbon grinned, nearly ear to ear.

  “Yeah,” Cabe said, his features somber, whiskers flat against his cheeks, “that’s the best news we’ve had for a while. Likely to be the best we’ll have for a while moving forward, too.”

  Lina sighed. “And the moment is ruined. Thanks, Cabe.”

  He shrugged. “Sorry, just being honest. We’re not out of it yet.”

  Much as Taj wanted to argue, she couldn’t. Cabe was right, and she hated it. His statement dragged her down into the mire once more, flooding her with all the emotions she’d fought so hard to shoulder aside.

  “Anyone have any ideas?” Taj asked.

  Jadie shuffled her feet. “Maybe I should go back and check on the others,” she said, “leave you to your…meeting.”

  Taj smiled at her. Jadie had watched the crew grow up together and knew how close they were. It was almost impossible for her not to feel like an outsider among them, despite her closeness to the group. A number of years older, she’d always watched over them like children, but she’d left them to do what they did. That she felt the need to run off now didn’t surprise Taj one bit.

  “You’re always welcome, of course,” Taj replied, “but if you need to…”

  Jadie nodded. “Yeah, I better. Need to update the Grans and let the others know what’s going on up there.” She smiled, shining its light over the crew in turn. “If you need anything, come get me.”

  Jadie gave them each a hug, letting Torbon linger in her arms for a bit before she finally let go and made her way down the tunnel. The crew watched her until she vanished.

  After she was gone, Cabe flopped to the ground, crossing his legs. “So, is that the last bit of good news we’re gonna have for a while?”

  “I sure hope not,” Torbon answered, plopping down beside him. “That would suck.”

  “Fortunately,” Lina said, taking her own seat, nuzzled up alongside Torbon, “I think maybe this will provide us with some options…once I wrap my head around it.”

  “What is that?” Cabe asked.

  Lina went through the same information she’d done with Taj, leaving the two men scratching their heads, wondering how they could take advantage of the device.

  “I mean, that’s slick and all, but even if you make it work, what can we do with it?” Torbon scratched at his scorched spot, leaning against the wall.

  Lina shrugged. “Not sure yet, but there has to be some use. I’m not sure what all this stupid thing can do,” she told them. “In theory, it controls the majority of the ship functions. In reality, what does that mean when the ship is a wreck and half its systems are shot?”

  “Maybe we can seal the ship and shut off life support,” Torbon offered, bolting upright, eyebrows raised.

  “If there was anyone on the ship beside captives, and if all the aliens weren’t wearing portable breathing devices, that might work,” Taj answered.

  Torbon sighed and dropped back against the wall. “That’s all I have for now. I think my brain got a little cooked when the shuttle’s engines clipped me.”

  “As if it wasn’t a little cooked before that,” Cabe joked, grinning wide and clapping Torbon on the shoulder.

  Torbon chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. Wish I had some nip to even it out, though.”

  “Me, too,” Cabe agreed. “Gave the last I had to Mama.” His face soured at the mention of the old Gran. Everyone’s followed suit, and Taj sank into herself.

  She felt like a failure, like she’d let Mama and Beaux down. “What would they do?” she muttered to herself.

  “What would who do?” Lina asked.

  Taj shook her head, only then realizing she’d asked the question aloud. “What would Mama and Gran Beaux do were they in this position?”

  “Something bold and daring, off the wall and totally unexpected,” Cabe answered.

  “No pressure there, huh?”

  “You asked,” he replied, and Taj nodded.

  “I did indeed.”

  “Maybe you should stop worrying about what the Grans would do and think about what you’d do,” Lina told her. “Seems Beaux and Mama put you in charge. Gotta figure there was a reason for that. If they wanted clones of themselves, old blood, old ideas, they would have put one of the other Grans in place, one of the elders. Sounds to me like they wanted something, someone, different.”

  “So, just be me?” Taj asked.

  “Exactly.”

  Taj chucked and thumped her back against the wall. “Sounds like a self-help slogan rather than a plan.” She raised her hands in the air and shouted, “Be yourself and conquer the enemy!”

  “Okay, maybe it does sound a bit like litter,” Lina admitted.

  Taj sighed and clambered to her feet. She tapped the side of her skull. “It all sounds like litter right now.” A yawn slipped loose as she glanced down the corridor. “I think I’m gonna take a walk, clear my brain a little. Maybe I can figure out what possessed Beaux and Mama to put me in charge.” She gave the crew a slim grin and waved, heading off before they could do much more than mutter goodbyes.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be around them, especially since Torbon was alive and well, but she needed some time alone. Her world had been spinning ever since the aliens crash-landed on the planet, and she hadn’t had any time to really think, to process anything.

  Her existence had been one huge reactionary blur, something thrown in her path every time she stopped to catch her breath. She needed a moment to herself, and as selfish as that felt given the circumstances, there was no way she’d be able to think straight if she didn’t take it.

  The end of the world would have to wait a moment.

  She chuckled at her thought, listening to her feet scrape across the stone as she walked. Arms extended, she ran her fingertips along the rough-hewn walls, the cold seeping in the longer she traveled. She breathed in the musty dankness of the tunnels, letting the stale air fill her lungs. Unconsciously, she steered clear of the others in the tunnels and found herself trailing along the corridor that led toward the alien prisoner she’d b
linded.

  A pang of guilt struck her as she neared his alcove, and she slowed as she came upon it. Grady was there, keeping watch. He grunted and nodded to her as she came to a halt outside the alcove.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked.

  Grady shrugged. “Not bad for an alien prisoner of war. Seems to be pretty comfortable.”

  Taj sighed at the old man’s attitude. “How about you take a break. I’ll watch him.”

  The old Tom conceded with a grunt and walked off without a word. Taj waited until he was gone, then dropped to the floor outside the alcove.

  “You ever wonder what’s gonna happen next?” she asked the soldier.

  He shook his head, the red palmprint on his chest gleaming in the dim light. “Not really,” he answered. “Sooner or later, likely sooner, Captain Vort is going to find out where you’re hiding, then he’s going to send his entire force down here to wipe you out.” He turned his head in her direction, and though his eyes were swollen, bloody messes, Taj felt a phantom stare landing on her.

  “And me, too, of course,” he added. “He won’t discriminate. Of that, you can be sure. That mineral he’s having everyone mine is worth more to him than anything. It’s his ticket to being a hero, to his name being immortalized in the Wyyvan Empire as the man who found the means to take on the Federation.”

  Taj wanted to ask more about this Federation S’thlor spoke about, but after their last discussion, it was clear his biases were too volatile to see past. Still, she wondered if there was something in Lina’s new toy that would offer a better idea as to who this so-called Federation was. Maybe they could help the Furlorians. Maybe Taj could find a way to reach out to them. If the Wyyvans hated them so much, maybe they could be put to use in Krawlas’s defense.

  S’thlor shifted and turned to face her, as best he could with his hands and legs bound. “All that at stake, you can guarantee Captain Vort will do everything he can to wipe you out,” the alien told her. “He’ll chase you to the end of the planet to make sure he kills each and every one of you.”

  Taj sighed and climbed to her feet, letting his words sink in. She stood quietly, processing, when a quiet chuckle broke free of her of its own accord. An ember of an idea sparked in her brain, flaring to life as if under a swift breeze. She grinned.

  “You know, that might not be a bad thing at all.”

  S’thlor’s face crinkled. “You’re a strange creature, Furlorian,” he said. “A madman willing to pursue you relentlessly to your death isn’t usually something perceived as positive.”

  “Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” she replied, not bothering to say more to the alien.

  Taj called Grady back to his post, then darted down the hall, leaving the captive soldier behind as she went off in search of Lina.

  She’d know soon enough if she was crazy or a genius.

  Or a little of both.

  Taj figured the latter, and she was okay with that.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Taj stared through the gazefinders at the gangplank of the Monger. Like before, two guards stood outside, pacing back and forth in bored monotony. The sun had yet to slither away, but it was close, casting long shadows over the alien craft.

  “You sure about this?” Torbon asked.

  Taj huffed. “I swear, the next person who asks me that question is gonna get shot.” She snapped the gazefinders down and glared at Torbon, tapping her free hand on her holstered bolt pistol. “They won’t need to wait for the enemy to come kill them.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Rowl,” he muttered. “Sorry for trying to reassure myself.”

  She sighed, returning to her vigil. “I’m tired of the question, that’s all. It’s not like I know what the gack I’m doing here. Rowl, none of us do. There’s no handbook for any of this, much as I wish there were.”

  “If only.”

  Taj sighed, twisting her neck in an effort to get it to loosen up. A sad, single pop was all she could manage. A quiet groan slipped out, and she cut it off as she spotted movement trundling toward the Monger’s gangplank. “There,” she whispered out of instinct, though they were far enough from the ship to shout and not be heard. “There he is.”

  Torbon crouched closer to her, kicking up sand from the dune they shared, even though he couldn’t possibly see what she saw through the gazefinders. She ignored his frantic movements and stared off into the distance, watching as the shadowy figure took shape and resolved.

  The Wyyvan soldier stumbled forward, looking out of place in the brown desert with his black armor, a splash of red at the chest. He angled toward his two companions at the entryway to the destroyer, and they slowed and stared at him with awkward stances, weapons half-raised but lacking any real commitment or concern.

  The alien staggered up to the others as Taj watched, his arms waving, then he stumbled to a short, jerky halt. He appeared to speak to the soldiers on duty, an animated conversation that looked entirely one-sided from where Taj looked on.

  She wondered what was being said and strained to hear, despite knowing they were too far from her for that, but she couldn’t help herself. Her breath hung stale in her lungs, and she waited, watching until she felt as if she might pass out. Then, at long last, the guard waved the other soldier inside, and the alien made his way up the gangplank in a rush, disappearing inside the ship.

  Taj exhaled, letting the black dots in her vision fade before pulling the gazefinders aside. “He’s in,” she said.

  Torbon nodded and flopped to the dirt, rolling onto his back with a sigh. “Here we go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Good news, Captain,” Commander Dard said, an excited hitch in his voice. Vort heard his fist thump against his chest before the captain even managed to turn about.

  “My favorite kind of news,” he replied, spinning on a heel to face the commander. “What is it?”

  “A Furlorian has broken, at last.” Vort could almost see the grin behind Dard’s visor it gleamed so brightly. He swayed side to side as if unable to contain his excitement. “She wishes to speak to you directly.”

  “Does she now?” Vort chuckled. “I think, perhaps, I can tolerate her presence long enough to extract that information.” Vort straightened, gesturing for Dard to lead the way.

  Dard started off, his heavy bootsteps clattering down the hallways until they reached the cells. He waved at the guard outside, who opened the outer door and ushered the pair inside.

  Vort’s visor fogged, atmospherics clearing it an instant later, but he was grateful for the breathing mask he wore. Judging by the wreckage splayed about the cells, it was clear Kabal had been at work, and Vort was glad not to have to smell the wretched stench of ruined bodies.

  Dard led him to the centermost cage and motioned the ruin of a creature inside. It barely lifted its head to meet Vort’s gaze.

  “So, I am told you wish to share something with me,” Vort told the alien. “What is it?”

  “Ple-ease, lord, I beg mercy,” the Furlorian mumbled, the words slow and thick like sludge. “Please.”

  Vort drew closer to the bars, grinning. “And mercy you shall have if you tell me where the rest of your kind have gone to ground.”

  The Furlorian gave the shallowest of nods, barely a tremor of movement. “Yes, for mer-cy, I’ll t-tell you.”

  “Then, by all means, do so.”

  The Furlorian groaned and lifted herself onto her elbows, blood pooling below the scabby points. “Tu-unnels beneath the city,” she spat out. “A h-hatch in the wreck…wreckage of the meeting…hall. Access to…them,” she managed to say, at last, getting the words out as if each were heavy stones, the burden enormous. As soon as they were free, she slumped to the ground once more. “M-mercy.” Crimson bubbles fluttered up from where her mouth had fallen into the puddle.

  Vort grinned and savored the moment before turning his attention back to the shattered Furlorian. “Open the gate,” he called out,
and Dard unlocked the cage and swung the door open. “I am a man of my word, Furlorian. I promised mercy, and you shall have it.”

  Captain Vort stepped forward and pressed his boot against the back of the Furlorian’s neck. The creature gasped as her face was pressed hard against the steel floor, then a quiet gurgle resounded. She twitched and spasmed, trying to rise, but Vort held her fast, her face buried in the puddle of her own blood.

  Weak from torture, she barely struggled, defying that last breath for only a moment before she could hold back no longer. She went to draw air and only found blood. She gagged and choked, each breath drawing her in deeper.

  Vort pressed harder, her skull creaking against the floor, and a tremor ran through the old Furlorian’s body. Once, twice, and then she went still. Vort held his boot on her neck a moment longer, finally pulling it free with a bark of laughter.

  “Thus mercy has been bestowed.” He turned to face Dard, his hands clasped together in glee. “I want all of the men gathered and made ready to assault the last of these vile creatures.”

  “All of them, sir?”

  “All of them,” Vort answered. “Pull the mining crews and all but the smallest cadre of guards off the hostages. Leave the flight crew and Kabal to their work, but I want everyone else armed and ready to invade the secretive little tunnels the rats have been hiding in. We will slaughter them in a single push, and then we can get back to what’s important, Commander.” He grinned and slapped a hand on Dard’s shoulder. “Our future.”

  Commander Dard saluted and issued the order. Vort trembled with excitement.

  At last, the creatures would be wiped out, and Vort could revel in his find without the annoying buzz of rebellious insects.

  The future called to him, and Vort made ready to answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Taj clung to her bolt pistol, feeling the sweat of her palms make it loose in her hand.

  She hated waiting.