Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Wishing it were a fleet of Bombardiers, he knew it wouldn’t be. “What is it?”

  By way of answer, the screens in the Battle Command Pod filled with images of black, oddly shaped vessels, all moving towards them. It was a wall of enemy aliens, far too many for their lonely battleship to deal with. “Pull back.”

  Staring at the screens, her eyes wide with shock, Cardiff asked, “Don’t you mean turn tail and run like fracking hell?”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  Tank had already ordered the ship to take flight away from the advancing enemy horde, but they were still gaining on them. “Get to the attack ships.”

  The best he could do was break up the enemy formation by giving them more targets to deal with. He would probably lose some of his ships, but it would give the slower battleship time to escape. Leaving Bombardier One-Zero-One and Mex to manage the battleship, the rest of the crew headed to the docking bay. Once the four attack ships were in space, the advancing wall of aliens were so close that they could see them without their visor screens.

  There appeared to be over a hundred ships, all roughly the same size, but he knew that wouldn’t remain true. Enemy ships had already proven that they could split apart, doubling their numbers and lethality in a heartbeat. Their ships had been modified to carry nuclear missiles, but that wouldn’t be enough to take down this many enemy vessels. In space, the blast radius of a nuclear missile was small, so it had to hit very close to the ship to do any damage. Thinking fast, he used the only weakness they were giving him.

  “Nukes away. Target center mass.”

  Clustered together as they were, they offered a single target, so hitting the wall hard should at least take some of them out and provide the best chance for the nukes to hit more than one target. Following his orders, the four attack ships and battleship unleashed their nuclear missiles. When they hit the wall of enemy ships, the explosion lit up that small part of space, but the remaining alien ships simply regrouped into a slightly smaller cluster, still heading directly towards them.

  “We need to split them up. Each ship take a different direction.”

  Where they had been lined up on either side of the battleship, they zipped off heading away from one another. Hoping it would force the enemy to chase them, he waited to see if they would take the bait. It worked, but not how he hoped. Staying in a tight cluster, twenty of the alien ships split away, chasing one of the attack ships.

  It was the one Cardiff was piloting and he heard her shout, “They’re on my tail.”

  Twenty more ships took off in the direction of another of their attack ships. In the meantime, Cardiff’s ship was lost under a sea of blackness. The light from small explosions showed in the gaps between the ships, and he guessed she was firing everything she had at them. Before he could do anything to help, Tank ordered their ship to retreat. A wall of twenty lumpy and spiky enemy craft were heading towards them.

  Targeting the one in lead, he fired a Space Spear missile at it, causing it to explode into fragments. It didn’t do him any good, unleashing a hundred smaller fragments that turned into tiny critters.

  “Dammit,” he muttered.

  “Abandon ship!”

  Through his visor, he saw that Cardiff’s ship was lost. It meant that there would be two Bombardiers floating in space needing to be picked up by the battleship. Still trying to monitor the fight between the aliens and the attack ship, he called, “Mex, pick them up.”

  “Can no do, sir. Situation not stable.”

  Turning his head to locate the battleship, he saw Mex had a point. The battleship was under attack from five ships that were spiking its hull. Thinking he could go and get Cardiff himself, he targeted the ships now closing in on them.

  “Tank, head towards Cardiff.”

  “No can do, Ark. Path is not clear.”

  Still firing at the enemy ships advancing on theirs, he heard Samson shout, “Abandon ship!”

  Now he had two crews floating through space. Gritting his teeth, he realized they were two down and two to go. He’d managed to take out nine of the twenty enemy ships chasing him, but the fragments left by his missiles were transforming into small spiders that now clung to his hull. If he hadn’t had Bombardier vision, he wouldn’t have been able to see anything through the mass of sharp spiked mouths now gnawing at the clear screen above his head. If they broke through, he too would have to abandon ship.

  “Abandon ship!” Lace shouted.

  Three attack ships down and only his to go. There was no way to win against this many enemy vessels. “Mex, get the hell out of here!”

  “No can do, sir.”

  He was running out of missiles, relying on the lasers that were not as effective against the enemy ships. “Why not?”

  “It’s not the way I roll.”

  The clear screen above his head was breaking, crushed by the sharp points relentlessly chewing their way inside. “Tank, we’re going to have to abandon ship.”

  “Wait, they’re almost here.”

  “Who are?”

  If Tank answered, he didn’t hear his reply. On his long-range screens, at least fifty silver colored ships of a type he’d never seen before were headed towards their position. “Friend or foe?”

  Tank’s deep chuckle caught him by surprise. “Better than friends. Brothers.”

  The incoming fleet was faster than theirs, firing with stunning accuracy at the enemy ships. The critters that had been chewing on his viewing screen suddenly launched themselves into space, heading towards the fleet. From then on, he and his crew were only bystanders watching a war between two sides, neither of which he knew.

  “You owe me an explanation, Tank.”

  Although their attack ship was injured, they made their way towards the bodies floating in space so they could grab onto their hull. Six Bombardiers clung to its sides while it slowly made its way back to the battleship. He’d been trained to hang onto an attack ship while it hauled him around, so he knew it wasn’t a comfortable or secure way to travel. Usually this type of rescue came with a lot of bad language, but today his squad were silent, totally caught up watching the war happening in the distance.

  Small explosions of light flashed in the darkness while the battle raged on. The silver ships were fast, zipping around one another to pounce on their targets. Bursts of brightness from repeated weapons fire lit an area, only to quickly fade again. Several enemy ships attempted to break off the engagement, tearing away from the main body of the battle, only to be pursued by the silver ships. Whoever was fighting on their behalf took no prisoners and running away was clearly not an option. One-by-one the enemy ships were being torn apart, reducing in numbers until only a handful were left. With the battle won, a small fleet of six silver ships pulled away and headed in their direction.

  While he stood on the edge of the docking bay, the silver ships each took a point around the battleship. Seeming content to wait for them to move, it became obvious that they were going to escort them somewhere.

  “Who are they?” Cardiff asked.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. Turning to question Tank, he watched while he disappeared through the slit leading into the main body of the ship.

  “They’re not enemy,” Samson remarked.

  Leaving his squad to puzzle over the silver ships, he headed to the Battle Command Pod to interrogate Tank. Finding him sitting in the command chair, he asked, “Where are we going, Tank?”

  “Home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:

  Silver Bullet

  (Ark Three)

  Their battleship was almost as badly damaged as the attack ships. Injured and barely alive, it slowly moved towards a planet shining brightly in the distance. The fleet that had come to their rescue surrounded them on all sides, escorting them to wherever it was they were going.

  Not for the first time since they’d safely made it back to the battleship, he hassled Tank. “Who are these guys? Are they allies? Do you know them?
”

  Refusing to answer him, Tank yawned and folded his arms over his chest, appearing to doze off. Punching his bicep, he said, “I know you’re not sleeping. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Will you give it a rest?”

  “No, I want to know who or what is piloting those ships.”

  He wanted to fly out and take a look for himself, but none of the attack ships was flightworthy and might never be again. His advanced vision wasn’t helping him either. All he could see were large bodies sitting at various consoles on the other ships. Similar in size to himself, they were obviously piloting the vessels, leading them towards the planet.

  Frustrated, he studied the silver ball looming ahead of them. Tank had said they were going home, but this wasn’t anywhere he’d ever been before. The planet glowed silver with dips and crevices along its surface that were only another shade of the same color. Its skies were cloudless and he couldn’t see anything that looked like water. The ships on either side of him were the same silver color, shining oddly against the darkness of space. Shaped like bullets, they had no viewing windows, but each had a span of thrusters at the back. Their own ships were far from sleek and these made theirs look even more clunky and dirty.

  Still annoyed with Tank, he punched his bicep again. “Why aren’t you telling me anything? Don’t you work for me?”

  With a nonchalant wave of his hand, Tank replied, “Not yet I don’t.”

  “You’re really pissing me off.”

  “Right back atcha,” Tank muttered.

  Giving up on talking to him, he continued to watch the screens. Now they’d broken through the atmosphere, cities loomed out of the land, as sleek and silver as the ships. Whoever this species were, they were well advanced. The city wasn’t made of many buildings, but was a huge connected complex with tubes and pipes running between the blocks. Smaller ships flitted across the surface, weaving gracefully around the higher sections protruding from the main body.

  In the middle of the large complex was an opening and it was here that their ship finally landed. He supposed he owed whoever they were the courtesy of thanking them. Giving Tank a final glare, and now having gravity, he strode along the brown colored tubes to the docking bay. As the door slowly opened in front of him, he was almost blinded by the bright glare of the sun on silver. When he could see again, three Bombardiers were standing in a line on the ground outside of the battleship. Dressed in dark fitted suits that outlined their heavily muscular frames, none carried weapons, nor were they wearing helmets. In the typical pose of a Bombardier, their legs were straight with their feet apart, while their arms rested by their sides with clenched fists a slight distance from their hips. Everything about a Bombardier, from their posture to their attitudes, reflected their strength and confidence.

  Jumping down, he walked across the silver ground until he was standing in front of them. Their granite looking faces were none he’d ever seen before. “Who are you?”

  “Welcome home, Ark Three. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Do I know you?”

  The three men shared a look and then laughed. “No, but we know you. Tank has been your guardian while we waited for you to grow.”

  He was getting used to his world flipping on him, but this was a step too far. “Grow? What the hell kind of game have you been playing?”

  “Dunk threw the Bombardiers out so we have a new home. This is Tracha. Your grandfather found it before he died.”

  At the mention of his grandfather, he felt a flicker of excitement. “Is my mother here? My grandmother?”

  Stepping forward, one of the men rested his large hand on his shoulder. “No, they all died a long time ago.”

  Bombardiers should live for hundreds of years and he glared at the man warily. “Of what?”

  Tank appeared by his side, answering for the man. “Lexie died of the same poison that killed your grandfather. Your mother never made it into space. We think she was killed on Earth by Dunk Two.”

  None of what Tank said matched his understanding of his past. He’d been told that Ark and Lexie had disappeared in space, but Tank had always known they were dead. His mother was supposedly lost in space as well, but now he was saying she’d never left Earth.

  “Why? Why would Dunk kill my family?” Turning to face Tank, he squared up against the man who was one of only two people he’d ever trusted. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Matching his posture and refusing to back down, Tank replied steadily, “Because you would have challenged Dunk Two and he would have killed you too. I promised Lexie that I would protect you and I have.”

  Feeling as if he was losing the family he’d never known for a second time, his shoulders slumped. “Why would Dunk have killed them? What did they do that was so wrong?”

  Although his face was almost expressionless, grief flickered across Tank’s hardened features. “They were like you. They wanted to change what Dunk was doing, but he wouldn’t be stopped, not by anyone.”

  It made him wonder what would become of Dunk Three. Would he morph into a copy of Dunk and Dunk Two or could he become his own man? It didn’t matter, the price of Dunk’s supposed safety was too high. Mariana’s people had shown him that Dunk’s rules were stopping mankind from evolving into what they were meant to become. For a man who’d loved progress, Dunk and his clones were trapped in time, holding the human race prisoner with them.

  “It has to end.”

  “We know and your army has been waiting for you to grow.” Light was reflecting from the brilliant sun in the sky and Tank gestured towards the shining silver walls around them. “We found this planet by saving it. The aliens here are smart. We defend them from the critters and they give us anything we need.” Nodding with some satisfaction, he added, “It was the last thing your grandfather gave us before he died. An alliance and a place we can call home.” Placing his hand on his shoulder, he added fondly, “And now we have you, his very last gift.”

  Tank had just given him the final piece to a puzzle, exposing the whole truth about his life. Without realizing it, these were the questions he’d been trying to answer ever since he’d witnessed the corruption inside of the Guild. The Bombardiers were never lost in space, but instead they were brought to Tracha, the planet they now called home. With his eyes widening with wonder, he asked, “How many Boms live here?”

  “Thirty thousand plus eight thousand navs. The navs don’t live as long, so a lot of them are pretty much retired.”

  “Will they fight for me?”

  His answer was walking towards him in the form of thousands of men and women. They were making their way to the landing bay, some in armor, and other in the same fitted suits worn by the three men still standing in front of him. Amongst the Bombardiers were Navigators. They were the human army who’d been traveling with them when they’d disappeared in space. The sound of thousands of boots with heavy footsteps reached his ears as more men and women gathered around him.

  Spinning slowly, taking in the sight of those who had been waiting for the grandson of Ark, he knew he had his army. Despite what Dunk Two had taught him, his real destiny was to finish the job his grandfather had started. He would rip Earth from Dunk’s control.

  While his mind caught up with his new reality, the crowd of men and women began rhythmically pumping their large fists at the sky, chanting the name that was now his.

  “Ark! Ark! Ark!”

  EPILOGUE

  The blackened spider-like creature scuttled across the floor, collecting small particles of dirt, clearly intent on keeping the room clean. Studying it without interest, the tall and slender man used his elongated fingers to flick another speck of dirt from his fitted suit, only adding to its work.

  “What now?”

  He turned his purple colored eyes to look at the younger man next to him. “We wait.”

  “This is not a good plan.”

  Not caring what he thought, he began walking towards the d
oor. “It is not your decision to make.”

  TREASON

  (BOMBARDIER TRILOGY – BOOK TWO)

  SD TANNER

  CHAPTER ONE:

  Dead Killer

  (Weapons Command)

  “Bridge to Engineering. We detected a power surge. Advise status.”

  Leaning forward in his chair, he stared blankly at the three Bombardiers sitting at their stations. The Bridge was really a small room with four consoles, including a central station for the ship’s Captain. Each station served specific functions of Weapons, Navigation, Visibility and Control. Below and behind them was the engine and weapons maintenance room, usually containing Trachan engineers and Bombardiers. Otherwise, the ship was nothing more than a floating hotel bristling with weapons.

  The underbelly of the craft was a large docking bay containing up to thirty assault ships known as Scorpions. These were highly maneuverable, fast, small arrow-shaped silver ships. Each needed a two or three person crew, but they weren’t a comfortable way to travel for long. Of the two hundred personnel on the ship, seventy of them maintained the Scorpions and weapons. A further one hundred were pilots. The other thirty personnel provided support while training to become a pilot or an engineer.

  Tapping his thickened fingers on the arm of his chair, he waited for Engineering to respond. They were being sluggish, meaning they were probably distracted by whatever had caused the power surge on the ship.

  He glanced at the Captain sitting at the console in the middle of the small room. “Do you want me to check it out, C?”

  Looking across at him, she shook her head sharply. “Not yet.” Pressing a button on the communications unit built into her ear, she said, “Send a squad to Engineering.”

  A voice crackled in his ear. “Will do, but what are we looking for?”

  “We detected a power surge and no one’s answering.”