The Rescue - full length

Tarnic kneaded his fingers into his temples again.  “You’re certain?”

Sara reached out a hand, and retracted it again before it made contact with his shoulder.  The tactile rules of comfort didn’t apply to Tam Tarnic she’d learnt.  Sucking in her breath, she nodded.  “Veterinarian, studied xenobiology and exobiology on Nancledra.”  Nancledra was one of the leading planets on alien life, Tarnic dimly recalled.  Didn’t Sara come from Dosl, the planet’s capital city?  He’d have to remember to ask her, some other time.

“There’s more,” Sara paused, unsure how to continue.  “Xenobio and exobio, that’s fancy, but not all that unusual.  In fact, after the Delta 9 incident, the Core’s made it protocol that all exploratory ships and newly colonised planets employ xenos and exos.  Planet the size of Parvane?  I’d expect anything up to a dozen, with sub-specialities ranging all over the place, including herpetology – frogs and newts stuff.  Amphibians.  No, what I find interesting about Starkov is the number of papers he’s written advocating the use of amphibious brain tissue in neuro-regenerative surgery.” 

She could see she had lost him.  “Pran, one of the moons off Veron, have been working on innovate methods of re-building patient brain matter after cranial trauma, strokes and the like.  Starkov’s been vouchsafing the benefits of ‘phibian tissue as the basis of the replacement.”  She flicked the display unit between a number of read-outs, “there, that’s a paper he wrote only six months ago endorsing the use of foetal salamander cells in severe schizophrenia and bipolar depression.”  She skimmed the report’s synopsis, “he’s confident that the combination of modern pharma and the use of xeno- and exobiology will bring major breakthroughs in neurology.”  She flipped the display unit back to a picture of a grim faced woman.

“The other person I thought you’d be interested in, is one Dr Gloria Hardy.  Unlike Starkov, Hardy’s got absolutely no background in animals, terrestrial or extra.  She’s a para-psychologist.  And a bloody good one too.”

“Para-what?”  Tarnic looked up from the screen.

“Para-psychologist; a psychic.  Well, someone who studies them.  She’ll be into all that telepathy and pyro-kinesis rubbish.”

“Except we know it isn’t rubbish,” Tarnic said slowly.  He met her eyes.  “They’re after the lizards’ telepathy.  The Core are stealing, kidnapping ‘phibians and experimenting on them so they can filtch the secret of their telepathy.  Imagine that in the battlefield.  Or politics.  Or corporate take-overs.”  He started rubbed his forehead again.  “How the hell to I explain that to Tak’ro?”



Lok’yi cocked its head and took another bite of meat.  Lee’Sara had taken the bird’s carcass and exposed it to fire, totally ruining both the flavour and the texture of the meat in Lok’yi’s opinion, but then they were in the humans’ lair, so it supposed it would have to get used to the humans’ bizarre eating habits.  Even if it did leave the meat tough and dry.

It stared at the display unit.  The faces of two humans stared back.  So, it thought, these are the reason the hunters have come to the Karshi.  It felt a swelling of fury.  Since the raid on the brood lair, the anger had bubbled away, always just below the surface, and now Tarnic’Tam claimed these, these invaders were the reason for the attacks. 

And therefore, for Lok’bri’s abduction.

Lok’yi felt the rage rise in its chest, like a bubble rising to the surface of the swamp.



Tarnic glanced across at Lok’yi, he had gotten pretty good at reading the lizards, better than humans, huh? he thought to himself wryly.  Lok’yi’s neck muscles were tense and his gills flattened down, tail and fingers a repressed puce, all signs of stress and anger. Surprised boyo?  He turned to Tak’ro who was also studying the display unit.  He was fascinated, watching her tap away at the keys, her tiny fingers perfectly suited to the controls.  He had been dreading bringing the ‘phibians aboard the Shadowsail, after the primitive caves and then tribal feel of the brood lair, the technology of the spaceship would surely be overwhelming.  But Tak’ro had taken to it like, well like a fish to water; and after seeing her swim in the pools at the brood lair, Tarnic appreciated the irony of that analogy.

“The main lab is based down on the Southern Continent.  Which is obviously were we should have landed.”  Sara nodded to Tak’ro and the little lizard pulled a map of Parvane’s southern hemisphere up on the screen.  “Flight plans indicate we should have landed in eastern Ryn, that’s nearly six thousand miles north of Parve the capital city.  So far Ryn and Parve are the only cities developed enough to support extra-planetary craft.” 

Tarnic frowned; leaning over Tak’ro he prodded the display unit.  “There are no settlements on the Northern Continent?”  He swiped the map further north.  “Nothing.  Damn,” he swore.  “We know there must be something; those light flyers aren’t capable of more than a few hundred miles at best.  There must be some sort of base for them to fly from.”

“Here.”  Lok’yi pointed to an area southeast of the Karshi Swamp.  “Land dry.  Not good for ‘phibians.  Humans drain marsh, build small lairs.”  Human speech still felt stilted and awkward, but Lok’yi was proud of its increasing fluency.

Without asking, Tak’ro zoomed in on the area.  She knew it, the Tak brood had hunting grounds there, before the humans came and depleted their numbers.

“Its close enough we can get out there in the flyer we took, can’t we?”  Sara looked to Tarnic for conformation.  “And,” she hesitated, “couldn’t we drain off the fuel from the shuttle, to boost it?”



Tarnic steadied the flyer, damn he hated these things.  Sure he could fly ‘em, hell he was one of the best in the unit.  Only Solma was better.  Stop that. He chided himself; but still, given the choice, he would keep his feet on the ground or on the big, unwavering deck of a spaceship.  Flyers were so damn unstable.

And having five terrified lizards sitting right behind him didn’t help any. 

Lok’yi was clutching the seat, eyes closed and lips pressed firmly together.  Every so often he would open one eye, think better of it, and close it again.  Poor Tak’ro was directly behind Tarnic and her little hands kept straying to his shoulder as if to reassure herself he was really there.  The other three Lok lizards, Lok’dre (a close friend of Lok’yi), Lok’u and Lok’sa, were all huddled at the back of the flyer.  Lok’yi had picked these particular ‘phibians for their intelligence, bravery and, in Lok’sa’s case, blossoming ability to speak English.

But right now even Tak’ro seem incapable of speech.  And all five lizards were a brilliant, flaming orange.



The stolen light flyer set down onto the grass without hitch. Still got it boyo, Tarnic allowed himself before twisting in his seat to check out Sara and the lizards.  As the flyer engine faded, Lok’yi’s scales lost some of their fear-orange and tinged back to green.  The big lizard opened one eye and caught Tarnic grinning at him.

<<Bloody human,>> the amphibian swore.

Tarnic grinned wider, “hey, you’re learning.  Have you cussin’ out loud before long lizard-boy.  Right!”  He beckoned to everyone, “I’ve put us down a mile from the base.  It’s possible they picked us up on scanner, but we know they have greatly limited resources on this side of the planet.  And Tak’ro’s people report humans are the only predator in the area.”  Tak’ro flashed puce in anger, but, with some control, managed to keep the colour to her fingertips.  Before the humans, the Tak had been the main hunters here.  Tarnic continued, “it’s quite possible they won’t have more than a very basic perimeter guard, if that.

“They think the Shadow crew are all dead or dying and they know you lizards can’t cross the ground-net they’ve laid out fifty miles north of here.  They most definitely are not expecting us.”

He popped the flyer door and climbed out, watching in undisguised amusement as one by one the lizards magically changed from orange back to green as they slid out.

The grass was dry and coarse underfoot, a sharp contrast to the swamp.  The land-drainage clearly a success.  And an expense.  This must be the main, probably the only, transfer station on the Northern Continent.  The place the Core were holding Lok’bri and the other lizards.  If only we’re not too late.

Tarnic felt that pre-op stillness fill him.  Time for action.



The buildings were low laying pre-fabs, hastily constructed huts for short-term use.  Tarnic snorted, short-term within any military could be weeks through to several years.  These looked like the latter.  A couple of flyer hangers sat to the east and a mid-size transporter, capable of airlifting eight flyers a time, hunkered beside the furthest hanger.

Crunch time.  Tarnic weighed the options in his mind.  Go for the officers’ huts or the hangers?  The lizards were mostly likely contained in either the hangers or the transporter itself.  But Starkov was on the Northern Continent.  And he would be in one of the huts.  Right beside the main barracks and every bloody solider on the base.

But tempting.  So tempting.

He twitched his fingers, beckoning Sara and the lizards on.  The hangers loomed nearer, would they be unoccupied?  Off-duty troopers loitering around, mechanics looking to their charges?  Tarnic felt his stomach sour, had he got it wrong, would the lizards be there after all?



Lok’bri thrashed against his cage.  Around him were a dozen other cages, most contained two or three ‘phibians.  A couple, like his, contained only one lizard: big, aggressive lizards that flashed puce and bright green, and in one case, the vicious lilac of a psychopath.

But the overwhelming colour choice was the brilliant orange of fear.

He twisted again, hoping for more leverage.  He smashed his powerful body against the bars and felt the slap of pain as the metal refused to give way.

Snarling, Lok’bri braced and threw himself against the cage another time.



A noise.

Tarnic snapped up a hand to halt the others and, crouching down, surveyed around him.

They had reached the first hanger and, so far, had seen only a handful of bored troopers playing cards, no longer wearing their distinctive charcoal-grey bio-suits.  Fever isn’t a risk here.

The sound, coming again, was the distinctive crash of reverberating metal.  Like a cage being rattled.  Like a really big lizard getting mad.

Tarnic didn’t bother to fight the smirk.  The lizards were close.



The caged moved.  Not much, but Lok’bri felt it rock slightly.  Keep going. He was exhausted, but dammit, he was going to keep going.  The rage was near blinding and he knew his fingers were tainted lilac with hatred now.  The other lizards were shirking back in their cages.  One or two of the big ones, the ones flooded the bright green of power and aggression were egging him on now.  Some of the puce ones had started throwing themselves against their own cage bars.

He could feel the lilac tracking up his limbs, the rage hazing his senses.

He gave a roar and thrashed out again.



Here. Tarnic stabbed his finger at the smallest hanger.  In here.  Sara nodded, her face pale but calm.  They could all hear the clamour now.

Tarnic felt the curl of Tak’ro’s fingers round his.

<<Not close enough.  We can’t hear anyone with our thoughts yet.>>  The cool whisper of her mind touched his.  He nodded absently; the sound whilst getting louder, was still muted by distance.  We need to get closer, he thought. And hope like hell no one else has heard the bloody racket.



Moore was furious, of course Dhayl and Crim had won, but slop duty?  On his down-shift?  Frikkin’ stupid card game. That was all there was to play for really, credit-chips meant nothing on this stupid side of the planet.  Sure you could save them for when you got back to Ryn or Parve, but a six-month rotation up here was a life-time.  Much better to bet duties.

Except Moore had lost, and now he had to slop out those bloody lizards.



Lok’bri felt dizzy.  He was panting, gasping for breath.  The air here was dry.  Bitter.  Made his gills itch.  Humans. He felt the rage well again.  Blood trickled passed his eye, several of the bars in front of him had bloody smears now.

And the lilac continued to rise.



Freakin’ bloody lizards were noisy today.  Happened, Moore reflected.  Get a new batch in and they always upset the ones who’d been here a week or two.  And there was a biiiig one in this lot.  From up Karshi way, all the lizards were bigger up thata way.  Troopers had bought back a few from that area before, but this one was something else.

Staffers had learnt that the ones the orange ones weren’t normally a problem, but the dark purplely-red ones and the vivid green ones were always nasty.  And this one had been bright purple all over when they brought him in.

Might have to tranq him. Moore thought in satisfaction.  Starkov didn’t like the lizards being jacked up with drugs, not until he’d played with them a bit, but sometimes the base commander overruled that.  Safety an’ all.  Good.  Moore was looking to spread some of his crappy day.



Tarnic had reached a window, looking into the hanger.  It was dark, an office or some such at the back of the hanger.  He looked round on the ground for something to jemmy it open with.

Lok’yi shook his head, and stood on his rear legs to reach the window, middle legs supporting against the wall.  With his narrow fingers, Lok’yi gave the window a gentle push, probing every inch of the rim.  The window moved a fraction and Lok’yi hooked a claw through the gap.  With a soft creak, the window slid open.

Giving each other a leg up, and Lok’yi reaching back to pull Tak’ro through, humans and lizards climbed in.



<<Bri.  Bri.>>  He could hear the soothing whisper of other minds.  Lok minds.  A balm on the screaming pain rising up from the other lizards.

Lok’bri shook his head irritably; he was the only Lok lizard here.  Lok’go had died in transport and Lok’ma had been taken away. Killed probably, if those vermin have any kindness. Lok’ma’s wound had been vicious.

He shook his head again, clearing the ghosts, and began hurling himself against the blood stained cage bars.



<<Bri, Lok’bri!>>  Lok’yi tried again.  Beside him, Lok’dre, Lok’u and Lok’sa chimed in.  Only Tak’ro remained silent.  She didn’t want to disturb the clear Lok signal the brood were sending out.  With this many ‘phibians in such an immediate area, her mental accent would just add confusion.

Lok’yi stepped forward, the call repeating in his mind.  <<Lok’bri!  Can you hear us yet?>>  Ahead of him were twelve cages, each containing one to three lizards, counting rapidly, he made it twenty-five lizards.  All in shades of orange, puce and lime-green.  And two in lilac.

The instance he’d spotted the shimmer of lilac in the half-light, he’d pulled the humans back into the office back room.

“Too dangerous.”  He said firmly, “let ‘phibians go first.  Calm lizards.  They see humans, they fear more.  Fight more.  Dangerous.”

Now, tentatively moving down between the cages, Lok’yi could taste the fear.  Several broods were represented among these poor, sad creatures.  He could see Gyr, Vol and Dro as well as Tak and, far down in the corner, right at the edge of telepathic range, Lok’bri.

Still calling out his name, the Lok lizards made their way down the twin rows of lizards, pulsing out a quietening soft blue, anything to sooth the swamping fear.  As they grew close to Lok’bri, Tak’ro started crying out to her own brood, her Tak rusty from lack of use.

Thick bars ran down the cage fronts, some held shut with deadbolts, others with padlocked chains. Lok’bri and the lilac Dro lizard were held in larger, heavier cages and had both bolts and locks.  As the comforting voices of his brood filled his mind, Lok’bri felt the lilac slip away and the green filter back into his scales.

<<Lok’yi!>>  He let out a burst of infra-red in relief at the sight of his mentor.  <<Go and Ma!>>  He faltered, tried to explain they were dead.  The images formed in his mind, so he sent them to the other Lok lizards without words. 

As one, the ‘phibians bowed their heads and pulsed pink in grief.  Then, eyes narrowing and tail tip flicking, Lok’yi set about opening the bolted cages.



Moore approached the main door of the hanger, whatever the big new lizard had done to upset the others, it had stopped.  The lizards were quiet now.  Thank goodness.  His hangover was lingering and dealing with twenty-odd dragon-aliens was gonna be hard enough as was.  Bloody lizards.

He pulled back the door, flooding the hanger with light.

“Seven blazing hells,” he yowled, “what’s happening?”  Half the lizards were running free and, yes screw it!, there were lizards freeing lizards. Rearing up on their hind legs, the Lok lizards were pulling back deadbolts and hustling the prisoners out the cages.  Orange still held sway, but the greens and browns of brood colours were seeping back.

Moore grabbed at his hip where his gun would be, if I weren’t off-shift, damn!  He swung his arm to his mouth and started shouting into his wrist-comms.

At the far end of the hanger, Tarnic and Sara were edging out of the office, Lok’yi couldn’t manage the padlocks and a rapid search of office revealed a bunch of keys in a desk drawer.

Seeing the trooper framed by the open hanger door, Tarnic snatched his laser from its holster and fired.  Moore went down before he even saw the shot.

“We need to get out of here, and fast.”  Tarnic gripped Sara’s hand and pulled her towards the nearest cages.  Fumbling the keys for an instant, Sara started releasing the remaining lizards, whilst Tarnic ran to the hanger door, laser ready in hand.

There were far more lizards held captive than he’d expected.  The flyer would hold another seven or eight, maybe more given how small the Taks were.  He’d noted with shock the blue eye-rings round the slighter lizards.  Taks.  Tak’ro’s brood.  He swallowed back bile and ran through them to the door.



Moore’s communiqué plunged the ops room into chaos.  Lizards were running free.  Frikkin’ damn lizards were out of their damn cages.  Starkov would blow a gasket.  The duty sergeant started barking orders.  Stunners, nets and tranq-guns.  Plasma bolts only if that bloody lilac monster was out.  Seven rotations up here, he knew the score with colours.  Hell, left to his own devises, he’d have shot the bastard outright.

Troopers streamed towards the lizard hanger.  Most of the men were out on active, either hunting in the swamps or tracing down any survivors of that bloody space crash four months ago.  Starkov was paranoid, kept talking of crew surviving the hell-damned fever.  As if.

But that left the sergeant with less than thirty men back at base.  And that included the mechanics and off-duty pilots.  Damn, damn and triple damn. 



Tarnic’s mind raced.  How was he going to get twenty-five lizards, thirty including the ones he’d brought in, himself and Sara Lee out in one eight-man flyer?

Simple, the devil in him whispered.  We steal the transporter instead.

Oh, and how do we do that?  His mind hissed back.

The devil grinned.  Take out Starkov first.



The troopers held a semi-circle round the door of the hanger.  Stunners aimed at the doorway, waiting for the lizards to pour out.  Stun ‘em as they run out.  Pick up the bodies after.  That was the order from the sarge.

The men eyed the hanger uneasily.  Most of them weren’t used to weapons, three were pilots and four were mechanics.  Several of them were on their first rotation to this damn planet, still getting used to Parvane’s atmosphere, let along the bloody-awful heat of the Northern Continent. 

Tarnic smirked, through a crack in the hanger’s side door, he watched the Core.  Ten of them.  Ten only would be a problem.  Sure Lok’yi’s boys weren’t used to plasma bolts and were unproven in combat, but dammit, Lok’u could shoot as well as any trooper.  All he had to do was get the Core men to move a little, give the lizards something they could see clearly.

A few well-aimed laser blasts at the ten real soldiers ought to do the trick.

Tarnic fired.



As the first volley of laser-fire blew out from the hanger, the Core men panicked.  The veteran soldiers dropped to the ground and returned fire instantly, but Tarnic’s barrage took out three straight away.

And then there were seven.

He’d briefed Lok’yi, Lok’u and Lok’sa which men to aim for first.  None of the Core were armed with anything stronger than a tranq gun, but time was everything.  If base had more men with heftier weapons elsewhere, being stunned or tranquilised would be as bad as laser or plasma fire in the end run.

Tak’ro, bless her little heart, was getting the other lizards organised.  Disrupt the humans as much as possible.  Take out as many as possible.

And then send out the ‘phibians.  Swarm the six-legged crocs out over the miserable dicks.

And then we’ll go for Starkov.



Something was wrong, very wrong.  Stunners & tranq guns, he’d told ‘em.  The sergeant sighed, laser blasts and plasma fire – he could hear it from here.  Get him in a lot of trouble with Starkov.  Irritated, he got up, ready to brawl them out.

And was met with the sight of his men scattered across the grass, laser burns and plasma scorch marks blasted across them and the dirt.  And the lizards, the sergeant choked back gore, the lizards were out and attacking any man still standing.         



Starkov was sitting at his display unit in the ghastly little box the base commander called an office.  He was furious, the crashing of the spaceship four months had cost him and Hardy dearly.  The supplies the Core had been shipping in for him, and the all important lift back to Nancledra for him and some of the more promising ‘phibians from his research down in Ryn.

And then the crew hadn’t even had the decency to die quietly; the little shebags (an expression he’d learnt from the expansive Dr Hardy, and still wasn’t entirely sure of the meaning) had actually tried to engage with the bloody amphibians he was involved with.  Damn, damn, damn.

And now some total prick had let the ‘phibians loose in the transporter area.

He seethed.  Another bloody delay.



Tarnic regarded the massacre with a critical eye.  All the Core men were dead and only one lizard (silly bugger’d run in front of Lok’sa’s plasma bolt), six however were stunned or tranq’ed.

He ordered Sara to see to the downed ‘phibians and had her and Tak’ro bundle them aboard the transporter ship once he’d broken into it.  Grabbing Lok’yi and Lok’sa as translators, he’d directed the non-Lok-speaking lizards aboard too.

Then he and the Lok-speakers (sixteen lizards in total, turned out Lok was a predominate dialect among the Karshi ‘phibians) set off towards the huts.



They hit the barracks first, destroyed any hard weapons the CM might have on the base, and then went for the officers’ huts.



Starkov pulled the Lilli-bolt out from the hidden holster under the desk.  The tiny plasma-shot dwarfed by his hands.  Hands that only shook a little.

In front of him stood a diminutive man, dark haired and dark eyed; sallow-skinned and hollow-cheeked.  The face and body of a man who had lived by his wits in the horrific heat and strength-sapping humidity of the Parvane swamps for four months.

And flanking him were three lizards, the big monster from the last haul, and two others holding freakin’ plasma bolts.

“You can shoot,” Tarni’s voice was low.  Nasty, feral.  Amphibian.  “But those one-shots take nearly two minutes to re-charge.  I think you’ll find that even if you can shoot faster than me, any of us, that we really won’t give a credit.”  He shifted his weight a fraction, aiming the laser-gun right between Starkov’s eyes.  “There isn’t a man or lizard among us who wouldn’t just love to sacrifice our life in taking you out.  ‘Cause not sacrificing our lives would be better.”

The Lilli-bolt trembled that tiny bit more.  Tarnic smiled.  That tiny bit was a tiny bit enough.

He shot.