Facing the Troopers

After the relative cool of the caves, the soupy heat of the swamp was immense.  Like being hit in the face with a hot, wet towel, thought Tarnic wiping away a streak of sweat in disgust.

They had been walking for nearly two hours and, as far as Tarnic could tell, as near as dammit in a straight line for the spaceship.  Once clear of the caves, he’d snuck a few glances at his wrist-comms.  As yet, no signal; but the nav-piece put his co-ordinates a mile shy of where he’d collapsed five days ago.  For idle curiosity, they sure carried me a long way. Tarnic was still unclear as to why the ‘phibians had taken him back to their caves, or for that matter where they were headed now.  Perhaps it was just idle curiosity, Tak’ro certainly stuck close by him, both in the caves and out here.  She had developed a habit of bobbing her head like a child eager to please whenever she spoke.  And she was speaking again now.

“This place, Karshi Swamp.”  She whispered, her ‘phibian vocal cords making most of the syllables clipped and short.  Her s’s came out like whispery hisses though and Tarnic wondered how long he would have to listen to her as his only vocal companion before he started emulating her.  Look ma, a ‘phibian accent!  He let a thin smile play out across his mouth. Despite himself, Tarnic had been amused and ultimately comforted by this hushed whispering. 

He glanced again at the wrist-comms; they were veering away from the ship’s path.  He nodded absently to himself; time to quit the family outing.  He had begun planning his escape back when Tak’ro first indicated they were leaving the caves.  Getting away from the big lizards was going to be difficult, especially as Lok’bri carried his confiscated weapons.  Tarnic had filched a knife from the meal table earlier, but that would require getting close enough the Lok’yi and Lok’bri’s necks.  And Tak’ro’s, he realised with regret.  He had no desire to kill the lizards, well, maybe Lok’bri.  Maybe just a little.  However, to his astonishment just running off into the swamp might be enough.

At times, the Lok lizards made sharp dashes after small prey animals and birds during the hike.  Each time Tarnic had studied the lizards closely.  Brutally fast at twisting and turning, they only seemed capable of running very short distances, despite dropping to all six legs, which gave them better purchase on the marshy ground.  Six-bloody-legged crocodiles, he thought.  Lethal, graceful even, at close range, but slow and clumsy over any distance.

If he judged it right, fell back a little (talked a little more with Tak’ro to allay suspicion), yes it would work.  In spite of his post-fever aches, Tarnic was confident he could out run the lizards.  He felt a pang of guilt for deceiving Tak’ro, but tried to assuage the emotion. She’s smaller, easier to outrun and, if I gage it right, she’ll block the others paths for a split second.  And he knew that was all the time he would need.



Sara felt a stab of anger and dropped her pack a little heavier than she meant too. 

“I said we are stopping, so we’re stopping.”  She pronounced the words slowly and loudly, the way she talked to her nephews and nieces when they misbehaved.  “We all need to rest and replenish our fluids.”  She took a point suck on her suit-mounted flask of sugar and electrolyte-rich water.  “No arguments.”  This last shot was aimed at Jenson.

Macho jerk, Sara thought bitterly.  She eyed him through her helmet visor and took another pull on her water tube.  He muttered something to one of the other flight crew.  They both laughed and openly leered in Sara’s direction.

She bit back a retort and tried to focus on the area around them.  The thick canopy of trees filtered the natural light and tinged everything green. Including Jenson’s pug-ugly mug.   

She sighed and thought of Lieutenant Tarnic, he was out here somewhere.  The signal was still coming in from his wrist-comms, faint but there.  Verne’s had stopped five days ago and Tarnic’s shortly after, but then, just hours ago, the tracking beacon had fired up again.  It was too distant for audio-contact, but the beacon was moving and that meant he was still alive!



The tracking beacon suggested he was moving straight towards the ship and First Officer Carne was quite happy to let him.

“Given he’s lost two, probably all three of his men, to this planetary pyrexia don’t you think medical help would be advisable?”  Sara couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.  “And Mal, wouldn’t you like to know where he’s been for the past five days?  It’s somewhere the tracker can’t signal from, that’s obvious!”

“And what’s to stop you contracting the fever once out there?”  Carne shot back.

Sara fiddled with an earing, thinking before she answered.  “The fever hit Lt. Tarnic’s men fast and with more virulence than we’ve experience here at the ship.  We’ve been breathing mostly re-circulated air through the life-support.  Those crew who have contracted the fever are the ones who have spent most time outside.  So far we’ve had no deaths and the cases have been manageable with standard anti-diarrhoeals, anti-emetics and rehydration therapy.”  She stared at Mal Carne and decided to go for broke.  “Okay, none of the crew have recovered, but neither have they gotten any worse.  Not since quarantining everyone to ship and they haven’t passed it on to any one else, so we know it’s not contagious.  I suggest that some volunteers and I suit up and look for the lieutenant.  Bio-suits will protect us from whatever vector is spreading the fever.  Mal, please.  It’ll only take a few hours and if Lieutenant Tarnic is suffering from the fever, receiving medical attention in that time frame might be the difference between life and death.”

Chewing the end of a finger, Carne looked back at her.  “Fine, four men.  My choosing, and if there’s any sign of them developing swamp fever, it’s straight back here.  Understand?” 



Now they were three hours out from the ship, the heat and the marsh and the damn awful suits making progress pitiful and they had stopped twice already.  The suits were low grade too, designed for the cold of space and for temperate planets, not sweaty ovens like this.  Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea, a treacherous little voice inside Sara’s mind whispered.  She was melting in the massive suit; movement was awkward and would have been even on firm ground.  Oh and to cap it off, apparently not using the ship gym left you unfit.  Great.  

She pushed the thoughts aside and called to Jenson.

“What’s the status?  How far are we from the lieutenant?”  She took yet another draw on her water-tube.  “How long before we reach him.”  A horrible thought struck her, “is he still moving?”

“Relax, Doc.”  Even the tele-comms distortion couldn’t keep the arrogance from Jenson’s voice.  “The Sit Rep is he’s still moving, comin’ straight at us.  Moving slow, but should intercept in another forty minutes.  I keep trying to raise him on the wrist-comms, but no go.  His tracker’s still beaming, but reckon the humidity musta frizzed the comms, we’re well within signal range, but still nothing.”

Sara felt her stomach tighten.  “Then lets get going, next rest in forty minutes.”



Movement. The thought hit in Tarnic’s mind before his eyes got the full message to his brain.  Up ahead the undergrowth rustled again.  In front and beside him, the lizards froze, ducking into a crouch.  From the way they panicked whenever he stood still too long, he guessed they couldn’t see stationary objects so well as motion.

He found himself hunkering down beside Tak’ro. 

<<Danger,>> she pulsed.  <<Tarnic’Tam stay still.>>  He nodded slowly to show he understood.  The telepathy only worked the one way.  Tak’ro could send him thoughts and images, but he could only receive and not send back.

Muffled sound filtered back through the foliage, the clumsy sound of large animals traipsing through the undergrowth.

Lok’yi pulled back his lips in a silent sneer, a subtle colour change as his scales turned a deeper green and he flicked the end of his tail towards Lok’bri.  Both lizards whipped the ends of their tails towards Tak’ro, the tips flashing a series of warning colours.  Commands, Tarnic realised.

Reaching out with one of her small forearms, Tak’ro pulled Tarnic lower down.  <<Tarnic’Tam must stay with me.  Let Lok brood hunt hunters.>>  Her thoughts tasted bitter and tinny in Tarnic’s mind and he felt her fear creeping round the edges of his own thoughts.

Ahead Lok’yi and Lok’bri inched their way forward.  Their bodies tucked low into the ground, they scuttled forward on all sixes, their movements slow and deliberate.  And as they did so, Lok’bri dropped Tarnic’s weapons.



“Five minutes to interception, doc.”  Jenson’s voice came over the headset and filled Sara’s helmet.

Nearly there. Sara let out a low breath of relief.  Tarnic’s tracker beacon was still beaming and it was so close.  So very close and still moving.  What ever had happened, the man was still alive.  Some how.

She was eaten up with curiosity, his men had succumbed to the fever with breath taking speed and, although the sick back at the ship were getting no worse, they showed no signs of recovering either.  What was so special about Lieutenant Tametri Tarnic that he could have survived so long?

“Shhh.”  Jenson’s voice came through again and he threw up his hand in a stop sign.  “There’s something up ahead.”  Despite the security of the headsets, he had lowered his voice.  Some things are just automatic.

“The lieutenant?”  To her annoyance, Sara found herself speaking a in quieter tone too.  And some things are contagious I guess. She felt a flutter in her stomach.

“No, but he’s close.”  Motioning Sara and the three other flight crew to stay still, Jenson crept forward.  His bulky bio-suit did little to conceal him, but he scooted from tree to tree.  “CM!  Bloody hell.”  Jenson exclaimed.  “Hey!  Hey!”  He started shouting and ran forward arms waving.  The flight crew started after him, each man tugging off his helmet in order to shout out to the soldiers.

“Hey!  We’re here!  Over here!”

Core Military!  Tarnic did it – the signal boost worked.  They’ve come looking for us!  Sara raced to keep up with the men, her heart singing with relief.  Agh!  Her foot caught a loose root and she fell crashing down, mud slopping onto her helmet and suit.  “Jenson!  Clarke!”  She called into her headset.  Damn, she pulled hard, but her foot was well and truly caught in the weeds.

Wiping the grime from her visor, Sara craned her body up.  Jenson had reached the first soldier and was frantically waving.  Salvation.  At last.

The trooper was saying something to Jenson, telling him to change the headset channel probably.  Sara tugged her leg again, slapping the mud away to find the root.  Something didn’t fit though.  Something itched her brain.

Guns.  The soldiers were armed.  So?  They’re soldiers! A sudden wash of panic hitting her, Sara threw another wild look at the soldiers.  Yeah, guns, not stunners.  And as she watched, Soldier One pulled his gun from his hip holster and fired.  Point blank at Jenson’s chest.

The boom shook through her and Sara screamed in horror at the burgeoning circle of red in Jenson’s torso as he fell backwards into the black water.

With terrified shouts, the crew scattered, but they were too close to the troopers.  With a jerk of his weapon, Soldier One snapped a command across his tele-comms and the patrol opened fire.

Plasma fire shot across the swamp mowing down anything in its path.  Within seconds all four of Carne’s men were dead.  Jenson with a laser blast through his chest, Clarke neatly cauterised in two and Smit and Black both with plasma bolts through the backs of their suits.

Sara lay in the slime, paralysed with shock. 

Soldier One was gesticulating to Soldiers Two and Three; he swept his gun round in a circle, covering his men as they bent over Jenson’s helmet. 

With a terrified sob, Sara curled her body up and started shaking.



Tarnic felt every muscle in his body freeze.  The sonic boom had shaken through the swamp, reverberating up through his sternum.  There was only one thing that made a noise like that.  Plasma fire.

Tak’ro emitted a high pitch shriek and flashed a brilliant orange in terror, her grip on Tarnic slipping.  Wrenching away, Tarnic ran forward.  Snatching up his laser-gun from Lok’bri’s dropped weaponry, he darted towards the Lok lizards.  Both Lok’yi and Lok’bri were hunched down in fear.  Lok’bri’s tail scales tinged with the same bright orange as Tak’ro.  Pushing past, Tarnic bobbed low into the undergrowth and peered ahead.

Three CM troopers, guns un-holstered, were scanning the ground to the west.  Around them lay five bodies.  No four, one was just in two halves Tarnic noted clinically, split clean across the waist.  All wore bio-suits, the troopers in lightweight charcoal-grey and the dead bodies in clunky, off-white.

One of the soldiers picked up a discarded helmet. Checking the telemetrics, Tarnic knew, seeing how many headsets are linked up.  Making sure they’ve got everybody.

He gripped the laser-gun harder.  This would be the perfect opportunity to break from the lizards, but with a sudden burst of anger, Tarnic recognised the low-grade white suits.  Shadowsail suits. 

He crept forward another few feet, the soldiers oblivious to his presence.  One trooper, wearing a corporal’s strips twitched his gun further to the west.  A tiny motion, but one that made his men fan out.

Somebody else is out there.  Tarnic felt his jaw tighten, he could follow the troopers, find out just who was behind that line of trees.

Or he could just open fire. 

Dammit, where’s a stunner when you want one.  Bloody laser will burn ‘em up. Which would leave no one to answer questions. And right now, I’ve got a lot of questions.



The troopers were coming straight towards her.  Inside her suit, Sara began screaming again, but her headset was still linked to Jenson’s and the tinny scream halted Tarnic in his tracks.  Laser aimed towards the troopers, Tarnic bent and scoped up the helmet, a woman’s hysteric sobs streaming out.

“Where are you?  Lie still.”  He commanded into the mouthpiece. He snapped the helmet over his own head, freeing up his hands.  Hunching down, he darted forward again.  He wasn’t worried about noise; the bio-suits would drown out all but the loudest sounds, so there was no fear of the troopers hearing him.  His big worry was being seen; either by good old-fashioned eyesight, or that the dark grey suits contained scanners.  They’re bio-suits, not space-armour, he consoled himself, and they’d have registered me by now.



“Where are you?”  Sara could hear a man’s voice, cool and calm, flood her helmet.  “Lie still and tell me what’s happened.  Quickly.”  It was a voice of someone used to command.  And it sounded deliciously familiar. 

“Tarnic?  Lieutenant?”  Sara couldn’t keep the relief from her voice.  “It’s me, Dr Lee.  Sara.  They shot Jenson.  They,” she choked and the sobs came back.  She closed her eyes and felt the thick mud suck at her suit.  The worst part of crying in a suit she remembered was being unable to wipe your eyes.  Opening them again, she still felt blinded.  Shaking her head vigorously to shift some of the tears she saw the shadow to her left.

It was Soldier Three.



Dr Lee!  Dammit, Tarnic swore under his breath. What in seven hells is she doing out here?  He had no choice now, he’d have to open fire and to hell with question answering prisoners.

He brought his gun up and let loose a sharp volley.



Soldier Three’s visor was blacked out, but Sara could make out the faint gleam of his teeth sneering through the darkness.  He fixed his plasma-gun on her.

And then his back arched and the gun flew from his hand.  A burn hole appeared in his chest and he toppled forward, his blacked visor smashing into the mud right beside Sara.



The human killed its own kind. Lok’yi chewed the thought in confusion.  And it shows compassion to the injured one with the white skin.  No skin and white skin are allies, and against grey?  It shared this this idea with Lok’bri and Tak’ro.

Lok’bri snorted.  <<Does it matter?  They are still humans.  They are still our enemies.>>

<<Are they?>>  Lok’yi mused, <<if no skin and white skin are at war with grey skin…>>

<<Another one!>>  Tak’ro snapped the thought across.  <<Grey skin, armed and headed towards Tarnic’Tam and White Skin.>>

Lok’yi whipped its head around.  Sure enough, couched behind a trali bush was a fourth grey skin, projectile weapon aimed towards Tarnic’Tam and his muddied friend.

Tarnic was over twenty feet away, too far for telepathy.  Lok’yi saw the grey skin shift its weight, re-positioning for a better shot.  Lok’yi fought back a flash of UV, the ‘phibians were hidden deep in bosa and trali leaves themselves.  The grey skin had no idea they were there.  And the human was almost within strike range.  Lok’yi pulsed a quick thought to Lok’bri.

Startled, the Core trooper spun round as Lok’bri threw a rapid succession of stones into his back.  He swung his plasma-gun round and pulled back ready to fire.  Just as Lok’yi charged at him from the side.

With a bellowing roar, Lok’yi sprang from the undergrowth and with a violent twist of its upper body, locked its jaws around the trooper’s right shoulder.  Thrashing its tail for leverage, Lok’yi spun and kicked out with its powerful middle and back legs, snapping Soldier Four’s spine in two different places, just as Tarnic’s laser bolt tore through the trooper’s helmet and head.



Word Count: 3008