A Subtle War

  A Subtle War

  Enemy Of My Enemy™ Book Three

  Tim Marquitz

  Michael Anderle

  Craig Martelle

  A Subtle War (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2018 Tim Marquitz, Michael Anderle and Craig Martelle

  Cover by Tom Edwards tomedwardsdesign.com/

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, October 2018

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2018 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Author Notes - Tim Marquitz

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Books By Tim Marquitz

  Books By Michael Anderle

  Books By Craig Martelle

  Connect with The Authors

  A Subtle War Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  James Caplan

  Nicole Emens

  Tracey Byrnes

  Keith Verret

  Peter Manis

  Daniel Weigert

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Micky Cocker

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  LKJ Bookmakers

  Chapter One

  Taj grinned as the mass of lizard-like Wyyvan soldiers pushed into the dimly-lit room. Their armored footsteps thumped as they stormed forward. The hiss of their heavy breaths as they were filtered through the tubes that moistened the air they breathed seemed to fill the room.

  “Let’s do this,” she called out over the comm to the rest of her crew, who gathered around her.

  Without hesitation, Lina, Torbon, and Cabe moved into position, readying to do battle.

  Taj triggered her armor, setting it to anti-grav mode, and leapt into the air above the Wyyvans’ heads. On instinct, the aliens watched her, raising their weapons to blast her away.

  That was when she set off her defense mechanism.

  “Flares away!” she shouted to warn her teammates, then twisted in midair as her suit spat out a brilliant array of sparks that erupted all around her, blurring the enemy’s vision.

  The crew scattered in response, each of their helmet visors automatically adjusting to the sudden burst of light trailing their captain.

  “I love you, Dent!” Torbon said into the comm as he circled around the Wyyvan soldiers while admiring the flashy display. He started to fire at the enemy.

  “Who doesn’t?” Dent answered with the hint of a chuckle in his mechanical voice.

  “Probably Cabe,” Torbon replied with a grunt as he dove out of the line of Wyyvan fire. “You should give him the crappy armor next time.”

  “Hey! That’s not true,” Cabe defended, dropping to his knee and blasting one of the aliens, drawing their wavering eyes his way. “Especially if it means I get gacked on the cool stuff.”

  “Fear not,” Dent answered. “My honor demands I treat you all equally, even if you don’t like me as much…Cabe.”

  “See what you did, Torbon?” Cabe asked. “Now you’ve got him believing that. I’m so gacked.”

  “Eyes on the prize, people,” Taj called out, dropping through the layer of sparkling flares. “Take out the enemy, then worry about who gets the best gear.” She landed in front of a Wyyvan soldier, his eyes going wide behind his visor in surprise, and she latched onto his armored throat.

  The soldier went to shoot her, but Taj was already moving. The servos in her suit hummed in her ears as she whipped the alien up and over her shoulder, flinging him hard across the room as if he weighed nothing. He slammed into the wall with a loud crunch and slumped to the floor in a heap.

  “Besides,” Taj went on, “Dent promised me all the cool stuff.” She laughed and launched herself back into the air as more of the Wyyvan soldiers spun and started firing in her direction.

  “Dent likes me the most,” Lina assured, stepping up and letting loose with the automatic blaster rifle the AI had built for her. “I’m the one putting all these things together, remember?”

  Bolt after bolt crashed into the mass of alien soldiers. Their armor took the brunt of the blasts, but they staggered back under the onslaught, the attack scattering them and knocking the Wyyvans out of formation.

  Torbon dove at the soldiers, dropping low and activating his two energy blades, which jutted from the back of his hands and splayed out to his sides. He darted through the grouping of Wyyvans, weapons trailing, and cut through the legs of four different soldiers.

  The Wyyvans shrieked and toppled, clutching at their wounds, and Lina turned her weapon on the still-standing troops, offering cover fire to give Torbon time to get to the other side.

  Cabe joined the fight as soon as she stopped her barrage to reload. He circled around the engineer and raised his modified bolt rifle, his favorite weapon. It boomed as he pulled the trigger, the sound echoing through the room, and the nearest of the Wyyvans had his head blown off, helmet and all.

  “Bloody Rowl!” Cabe howled happily, marching forward.

  A smoking crater between his shoulders, the wounded soldier slumped to the ground, and Cabe shot the man beside him in the chest, the wide-eyed alien too busy watching his fellow soldier die to even notice he’d been targeted. He flew backward, trailing black smoke, dead without ever realizing it.

  Taj dropped out of the sky again behind two more of the soldiers and set her gun to the side of one’s head. A quick tap of the trigger at point blank range sent a bolt tearing through the first’s skull, then struck the second in the head. Both dropped with a clatter of armor. Taj spun to face the next foe.

  That was when she caught a blast in the gut.

  “Ooooof!” she cried out, the blow knocking her back on her butt. Her breath billowed from her lungs as her armor blunted the damage.

  The Wyyvan soldier hovered over her, grinning. He took aim at her as she struggled to make her lungs work and shake off the pain and surprise of the unexpected shot that had set her ribs to throbbing. She grunted and went to raise her weapon.

  Torbon got to the soldier first.

  He skipped past, slicing the Wyyvan’s gun barrel in half, sparks flying and leaving tracers on Taj’s retinas. His second blade scored a hit on the alien’s thigh, driving him to his knee with a pained shout. The useless weapon fell to his side.<
br />
  “All yours,” Torbon laughed as he shot past, going after another soldier whose back was turned to him.

  “My pleasure,” Taj muttered, her gun up and targeting the wounded alien who’d shot her moments before.

  She pulled the trigger and blasted a hole in his stomach. He gasped and clutched his belly, slumping to his side.

  “How’s it feel, buddy?” she asked, firing again and putting the Wyyvan out of his misery.

  “Helps to wait a minute before shooting them if you actually want an answer,” Cabe told her over the comm, chuckling.

  “It’s called a rhetorical question, Cabe,” Taj muttered, dusting herself off and climbing back to her feet.

  “Then why ask it at all?” he replied.

  “Because it makes me feel better,” she argued, raising her gun and blasting another of the Wyyvans who’d turned to target her. The alien crumpled to the ground, dead.

  That definitely made her feel better.

  Lina’s weapon sounded again, hurling bolt after bolt at the last of the Wyyvans, killing one and driving the other two back on their heels. Torbon cut one down, and Cabe blasted the other, leaving the corpses to topple among the rest of their alien companions, silence overtaking the room in the wake of combat.

  Taj walked over, joining the rest of the crew. Adrenaline cooling in her veins, she set a hand to her stomach and grunted. “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

  “Try not getting shot next time,” Torbon told her.

  “Always sage advice from this one,” Cabe laughed, patting Torbon on his armored shoulder. Torbon’s tail flicked back and forth with amusement. “Just don’t get shot,” Cabe said, mimicking Torbon.

  “Easier said than done sometimes,” Lina replied, glancing down at a scorch mark on her armor where the last group of enemies had blasted her cleanly in the chest.

  “How’d we do, Dent?” Taj asked, ignoring the ache in her belly as the far wall shimmered, cracking open. A squad of custodial bots swarmed out to clean up the mess the crew left behind.

  “This training sequence took you several seconds longer than the last,” the AI reported. “However, you managed to take out your opponents more efficiently this time around, though you lose points for being struck by one of the android Wyyvans, Taj. The goal is to avoid injury, as Torbon pointed out.”

  Taj snorted.

  Torbon grinned. “Told ya!”

  “All in all, though, you’re getting better with each attempt,” Dent assured. “You’re becoming more comfortable with the equipment and the tactics of working together as a group, which is a far cry from the results from when you first started training. It’s only taken a few months.” Dent chuckled. “That first time was a disaster, let me tell you.”

  “You don’t need to remind us, Dent,” Cabe complained. “We were there.”

  “I have it on video if you’d like to watch it again. Pure comedy,” the AI teased. “I’ve never seen anyone stab themselves before.”

  “Hey!” Torbon shouted. “In my defense, I tripped over Taj. What the gack was she doing lying on the floor right then?”

  “At least it was Lina who killed you, not yourself,” Cabe said, grinning so wide his eyeteeth gleamed.

  “How was I supposed to know there’d be that much kickback on the gun?” the engineer asked, shaking her head.

  “Brrrrrrrrrrrtttt!” Cabe sounded, falling to his back comically as he imitated Lina being knocked over by the force of her weapon.

  “In her defense,” Dent stated, “it was the first time any of you managed to kill more than a single opponent with the same attack. She deserves credit for that accolade, at the very least.”

  “Oh yeah,” Torbon chuckled. “Friendly fire massacres are always the best way to earn accolades from combat and if one must begin an attack with a bang, let it be the good guys on the wrong end.”

  “Would have been worse had anyone survived to whine about it,” Lina told him, glaring through her visor at Torbon.

  “Hence the reason you continue to train,” Dent reassured over the comm. “Always better to fumble and fail in practice than in real life. You can walk away from stun bolts and android opponents programmed not to hurt you seriously. None of your enemies will be so considerate.”

  “Not that we’re ever gonna face any real enemies,” Cabe complained. “We’ve been on-station for six months, and we haven’t heard a word from the General or anyone else representing the Etheric Federation since we first got here. It’s like they don’t want our help.”

  “They’ve probably seen our training holos,” Lina joked.

  “That would definitely explain it,” Taj agreed.

  She watched as the cleaning crew sped around the room and swept the android carcasses toward the recycling center. They’d been so happy to arrive at Corzant, the Federation-aligned space station where the crew had been living ever since they’d been forced to flee Krawlas, their distant home planet, which had been invaded by the lizard-like Wyyvan.

  Now, boredom, homesickness, and frustration had settled in—big time.

  While Dent had been given access to the station’s intelligence databases, and he’d figured out a great way to meld the technology of the Federation and his people, the Dandrinites, the crew had done little more than eat and train the entire time they’d been there.

  Not that she was complaining. Things could have been far worse.

  She and her people, the Furlorians, originally from Felinus 4, where they’d been made to flee by a previous war, were now safe and sound on Corzant. It wasn’t the permanent home they’d been promised by General Reynolds, but it was far better than traveling through space in a stolen ship packed to the ceiling with her fellow Furlorians. Being stuffed in anywhere they fit could barely be called surviving.

  The General had offered sanctuary for their people and a future home for both the Furlorians and the Dandrinites, whose memory and history lived on inside Dent’s mind, only waiting for him to resurrect them.

  Taj had been thrilled that day they’d arrived on Corzant. But now, with so much time passing and having heard nothing, she was starting to get antsy.

  “We gonna do this again?” Cabe asked, interrupting her thoughts, for which she was grateful.

  She spent too much time in her head as it was.

  Taj shrugged. “Nah,” she answered. “I think we’re good for today.” She glanced at her stomach, running a hand along the armor, which had repaired itself after being shot the last time. She marveled at the suit’s resilience for a moment before continuing, “We can probably use a break.” Her ribs had started to ache.

  “Lunchtime!” Torbon shouted, pumping his arm in the air with excitement.

  Cabe grunted and whipped his helmet off, spitting a line of brown nip-juice onto the floor as soon as the helmet was clear. It hit with a splat.

  “That’s gross,” Lina commented as a custodial bot swung over and started cleaning the mess off the ground.

  “Are you seriously gumming that stuff while you’re wearing your helmet?” Taj asked.

  “They don’t call it a habit for nothing,” he answered, offering a toothy grin.

  “You’re gonna swallow that stuff one day.” Taj shuddered at the thought.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered in response, saying it just loud enough to be heard.

  Torbon laughed and shook his head. “Just because the station has provided a gack-ton supply of nip, doesn’t mean you need to try and work your way through it all.”

  “Someone has to,” Cabe replied. “Might as well be me. Better than that old Tom, Grady, getting it, right?”

  Lina groaned. “Why does it have to be anyone?”

  Taj raised a hand to forestall the reply that was obviously ready to spill from Cabe’s lips. “Rhetorical question again, so we’re clear. Doesn’t actually need an answer.”

  Undeterred by her gesture or comment, Cabe went to reply anyway, but the gentle swish of robes and soft footfalls b
ehind them drew their attention. They spun around to find Eliarar, the spokeswoman of the Ooror people who populated and ran the station.

  Tall and wisp-thin, she strode with an elegance that made her appear almost as if she were floating across the floor. Bright white robes trailed behind her like great wings fluttering in the air. Pink eyes met the gazes of the crew, one after another, and she offered each a shallow nod before settling on Taj.

  “Training went well?” she asked, her voice ethereal, barely a whisper carried on her soft breath. Though, to her credit, the crew heard and understood her perfectly, likely a testament as to why she remained the representative of her people.

  “It could have been worse,” Cabe answered, returning her friendly nod.

  “It could have been better, too,” Torbon argued, not bothering to hide his grin. “A lot better.”

  “Excellent,” Eliarar answered, choosing, as she so often did, to ignore Torbon’s jokes and replying as if she’d not heard him say anything at all. “The Federation will be pleased to hear of your progress, I’m sure.”

  Taj looked at the sleek representative, suddenly realizing this was the first time she’d seen the woman in the training arena. In fact, it was the first time she’d seen her anywhere outside of the hangar bay when they’d first arrived or in the administration areas. She’d always summoned the crew to one of the meeting rooms, sending subordinates to hunt them down and bring them along.