Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Meeting him at the Scorpion, she was breathing heavily inside of the suit. “Man, this thing is heavy.”

  “You trained in it so that’s not new intel.”

  “I thought we were gonna use them for evac instead of the pods.”

  To be fair, that’s what they originally were, until Tiana decided they could be weaponized. “It’ll be cool.”

  Sounding indignant, she replied, “I know.”

  Tank’s voice sounded in his headset. “Battle Squads ready to engage. You need to lead your Scorpions through the front line.”

  “Saddle up!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

  Easy Rider

  (Ark Three)

  A thousand Scorpions were in front of him, firing at the Navigator assault ships. Unlike his previous engagement, this time he’d ordered the BattleRigs to stay nearby providing supporting fire. The Navigator assault ships weren’t moving forward, but staying within a limited radius of their position. They were just close enough to the other assault ships to extend their range of fire, meaning there was no way between them.

  If his ships were going to break through the line, he needed the assault ships to step outside of their radius. Tapping a Navigator assault ship on his visor screen, he highlighted it to the other Bombardiers. “All Battle Squads target the nav ship on my mark. Run it into the ground.”

  Hoping the other Navigator ships would break formation, he watched the Battle Squad fire at the lone enemy ship. Flashes of red fire tore across the ugly brown hull, tearing the ship to pieces. Although a large misshapen segment of the ship was left, its weapons were gone. Clearly unable to move, it began drifting away like a piece of space trash. Two pods emerged from the broken ship as the Navigators ejected, but none of the other ships moved to pick them up. It meant the Navigator’s weren’t willing to abandon their formation, leaving their brothers to drift away in space. Another Navigator assault ship appeared out of the net, taking the position of the one they’d destroyed.

  Frustrated, he opened a channel to the Navigator grid. “Why are you abandoning your troops?”

  A voice he didn’t recognize replied, “Why are you attacking your own people?”

  “Stand down. We’re coming through with or without your consent.”

  “Bring it on.”

  It was hopeless. Thanks to his argument with Dunk Two, their two armies were polarized. Switching to the Bombardier grid, he shouted, “All squads. Engage enemy. Fire at will.”

  All along the line, Battle Squads surged forward. Ships from his own squad traveled between two Navigator assault ships, taking fire as they went. Firing back at them, the assault ships began breaking formation, eager to chase the Scorpions. The scene in front of him turned into a series of small dogfights with Scorpions zipping rapidly to avoid fire. Assault ships were teaming up to attack a Scorpion, only to be fired upon by other ships. Behind him, the BattleRigs were targeting and firing at the assault ships, but mostly they missed. His small part of the battlefield had disintegrated into a frenzy of lightening movement as the smaller ships battled one another. He wanted to take the ground, but Navigators were equally determined to defend it.

  As ships from both sides were disabled, escape pods were firing into space, often ending up in the middle of a dogfight. More than one was shot down.

  Cardiff’s anxious voice sounded in his ear. “Should we go?”

  “Not yet. I need them to break the front line.”

  Opening the net was a matter of thinning the front line. He needed to get behind that line and deep inside of Casey’s grid. Once behind enemy lines, he would use their weapons to clear a path until he could go no further. At that point, while ejecting in his HackSuit, he would set the Scorpion on autopilot to ram one of the Navigator Battleships. HackSuit guns didn’t carry the same punch, so once they lost their ship, they would target the thrusters and weapons attached to the Navigator assault ships.

  Tank’s voice was issuing orders to each of the Battle Squads, both feeding back a status while pushing them forward.

  His own Battle Squad were making progress, finally reducing the number of assault ships willing to move forward into the front line. “Forward Squad, advance.”

  Using his visor and the screens in his helmet, he monitored the position of his own ships and the Navigators. Every one of them was occupied by a dogfight, zipping around one another while they fired missiles and particle beams. Navigators were firing seeker missiles, but they were struggling to keep pace with the speed of the battle, often shot down before they made it anywhere near their intended target. Seeing an opening, they traveled forward gathering speed. Ships were launching in random directions, forcing him to jolt left and right, up and down, to avoid being clipped. Above his head, a Scorpion inches from his own was traveling so fast it skidded over his hull.

  “Watch it!”

  Whoever was piloting the passing ship didn’t waste time replying to his warning. Slipping between the warring ships, he could see the remainder of the Navigator grid. Their weapons were clearly armed waiting for the second assault he assumed they knew was coming. He was in the pipe now with no way to go other than forward. Behind him weapons fire continued sparking, lighting up his visor. In front of him was a grid of ships, much like the one he’d formed during their first battle. It seemed Casey was a fast learner, borrowing his tactics before he knew how else to use it.

  “Fire at will.”

  Targeting an assault ship to his left, he flipped the Scorpion, throwing it into a spin. Firing his particle beam cannon, it blasted an assault ship already on the move. His shot went wild, only managing to clip the side of it. Undeterred it continued moving towards his Scorpion, steadily firing its laser. A missile launched from the side and he knew they had a fix on his ship.

  “Evade!”

  “Ya think?” Cardiff drawled.

  While she piloted the Scorpion, throwing it wildly in one direction and the next, he tried targeting the assault ship. Even using his computer screens, they were both moving too fast in every direction for any position to become stable. Unable to get a fix, more assault ships were breaking away from their grid positions, moving forward at speed. It was now or never.

  “Cardiff, get ready to evac!”

  Setting the ship’s course deeper into the Navigator grid, he ordered the computer to auto fire at any assault ship. The final instruction he left was for the ship to crash into the nearest Battleship.

  “Ejecting!”

  The entire Battle Bridge blew open on one side and his body was sucked into space. Spiraling away, Cardiff launched at the same time, spinning in the other direction. There was no up or down in space, but he made a decision about which way was up.

  “Cardiff! Status!”

  “Good to go.”

  Just as he expected, there was too much weapons fire to spot a lone Bombardier in a HackSuit. “Forward squad, sound off!”

  Over ten voices replied to his call. He wasn’t sure if he had them all, but it didn’t matter. If Tank didn’t get his advancing Battle Squad through the enemy line then they were all lost.

  “Tank, status!”

  “Quit shouting. We’re working on it.”

  Adrenalin had flooded his system, leaving him wired and jumpy. He was floating through space with thrusters controlling his movements, wired up with bombs. Feeling anxious was understandable, but his squad assumed he knew what he was doing so he buried it.

  Steadying his voice, he replied, “Hurry up. We’ve got our asses out here.”

  Tank snorted. “Good idea on paper, huh?”

  Buried inside of a HackSuit his vision was limited. Completely computerized, the entire suit was run by nanobytes busily following his orders. Firing a blast, his body shot forward. “Forward squad, follow me.”

  Inside of the enormous arms were controls for screens he could see through his visor. In front of them, the Navigator ships were under attack by the now pilotless Scorpions. Controlled by nanobytes and wi
thout their living cargo, the Scorpions were taking extraordinary risks. Zipping close to their targets, they fired missiles as they flicked across the enemy hull. Navigator assault ships were taking direct hits, exploding the bolted on ordnance and leaving the ships in pieces.

  The scanners on the HackSuit were limited to half a light-year, so he couldn’t tell if he was in the middle of Casey’s Navigator grid or reaching the end. They needed to keep carving up the center of her battlefield until they owned it.

  “Target ordnance on the enemy ships.”

  Not one of his forward squad replied, but they began moving in different directions, each targeting an assault ship. Appearing like tiny dots in the vast emptiness of space, a single fighter in a HackSuit was almost impossible to see. It meant they could get closer to the ships, catching them unawares. Moving through the darkness of space, he saw a Navigator assault ship ahead. Turning off his thrusters, he allowed himself to drift, continuing in a line towards the idle ship. It was fully loaded with some weapons he recognized and others he didn’t. When he was close enough, he tapped the controls using a pad in his glove, targeting the missiles bolted onto the ship.

  His body jolted backwards with the force of the mini-missile leaving his suit. Compared to a ship it was a small bomb, but aimed in the right place it would do enough damage. Allowing himself to spin, he continued to behave as if he were nothing more than a piece of space trash. It was as he turned head over feet that the ship he’d targeted exploded, hurling brownish chunks resembling dead flesh into space. His sense of satisfaction at seeing his tactic working was quickly lost when a BattleDroid ejected from the broken body of the ship. The sunken head buried in the shoulders was aiming directly for him.

  He’d miscalculated. Although the Navigators would have trouble spotting a single HackSuit floating amongst the debris, a droid with a human controller wouldn’t. Whoever was controlling the BattleDroid had spotted him. With it hard on his heels, he fired his thrusters, hurling himself left. Now hunting him, the droid copied his movement. Using the controls in his gloves, he fired his railgun at the droid, but it jolted sharply, making the shot go wild.

  “Dammit.”

  The robot only had a thruster pack attached to its back, making him wonder if this was a hastily made modification. If that were the case then there had to be a Navigator Battleship nearby, otherwise they wouldn’t have known to send out the droid. Continuing to use his thrusters to gather speed, he was moving through space, dodging large chunks of debris floating from the main battlefield. He was getting further away from the fight still raging behind him. Sparks of weapons fire and exploding ships were growing distant, leaving him in the relative peace of empty space. The droid was matching his speed, trying to gain on him without firing.

  Using his thrusters to reduce his speed, he turned to face the BattleDroid. Its thrusters weren’t responsive enough and it hit him hard. Using the arms on his HackSuit, he controlled the mechanical hands, clutching the droid to his chest. He might not be able to break it, but he could rip away its thrusters so that the operator couldn’t control its movements. Seeming to understand his intent, the droid used its arms, pushing against the chest plate on his HackSuit. Hugging it tightly, it fought to be released. Now they were both traveling backwards further from the main battle. Slowly flipping head over feet, they were locked in an embrace neither of them wanted.

  Taking aim with the gun attached to his arm, he prepared to fire, only to hear a voice he knew well.

  “Cut it out, Ark. This is Casey. That’s my BattleDroid.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:

  Beyond Reason

  (Dunk Three)

  “It’s not sane.”

  Dunk Two gave him a bored look. “What do you know about sanity?”

  “I spoke to Dunk.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he gave him a surprised look. “You woke him up?” When he nodded dumbly, Dunk Two roared with manic laughter. “What did the old fool have to say?”

  Pulling a chair from the table, he sat facing his clone. “He says we’re crazy, but we get better with age. He thinks I’m not as crazy as you are…yet.”

  “Ooooh,” Dunk Two drawled. “I see why you think I’m insane.” Leaning forward, fussing with the cuffs on his tunic style shirt, he gave him a sidelong look. “Don’t listen to the ramblings of an old man who should be dead. I’m not crazy. I have a plan.”

  “To do what?”

  “I think the Boms made a deal with the enemy aliens. That’s why they want us. They’ve always wanted us.”

  Puzzled by his suggestion, he asked, “Why do they want us?”

  Leaning closer to him, Dunk Two spoke in a conspiratorial whisper as if the enemy aliens could hear him. “They want our bodies. That’s why they were transforming some of us into the ones we have in the medical center.”

  Arching one eyebrow, he asked, “You think they want to possess us?”

  Pulling away, Dunk Two harrumphed sharply. “They’re not demons. They want to use us as hosts.”

  “Hosts for what?”

  Now it was Dunk Two who raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “To live.”

  “If they need our bodies to live then where are they now?” He glanced around the room, his eyes widening as if he were scared. “Are they here now?”

  Dunk Two screwed up his face in disgust. “Don’t try to be funny. We’re not good at it.”

  “Then where are they?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they exist in a vacuum until they find a host.”

  “You’re not furthering your sanity defense with this line of thinking.”

  Waving his hand dismissively, Dunk Two shrugged. “The enemy aliens aren’t the problem right now. Those Boms have some impressive tech. Where do you think they got it from?” The door to his quarters were next to the office. Dunk Two flicked his head at it, his upper lip curling into a sly sneer. “What does your little alien pet have to say about that?”

  Keeping control of Mariana was one of the few arguments he’d ever won against Dunk Two. Naturally, his clone had wanted to dismantle her cells, finding ways to merge and transform them. Promising to interrogate her first, Dunk Two had agreed she could stay with him. To say it was an unsteady victory was an understatement. Eventually he would send her to the medical center where he couldn’t protect her. Every day was proving to be one more step in a direction he wasn’t sure he wanted. Dunk Two was getting ready to implement his final solution, one that involved removing the last traces of enemy DNA from Earth.

  “She hasn’t said much. I don’t think she understood what she was seeing. They have a planet and tech, but that’s all she seems to know.”

  “Then she’s useless. You should hand her over to the medics. See if we can find a use for her.”

  A cold chill ran along his spine. After being with Mariana for months, he thought he understood how she’d been injured. She was empathic in some way, possibly even telepathic. He didn’t want to tell Dunk Two about her abilities, fearing it would only inspire him to use her in ways he had yet to think of.

  He shook his head. “She’s just different. Her mind is…” Not wanting to compromise what he suspected about her, he finished his sentence lamely. “Different.”

  Dunk Two’s eyes narrowed. “Define different.”

  Talking to his clone was like walking through a minefield. He never knew which direction a comment could take him, making him anxious about saying anything at all. Thinking quickly, he shrugged. “She doesn’t have the same context for things as we do. It’s a slow process of unravelling what she means when she speaks.”

  His explanation appeared to disappoint Dunk Two and he slumped in his chair. “She’s not that interesting then. We have bigger problems, like how we’re going to get rid of the renegades.”

  Sighing deeply, his chin dropped. “Not this again. Why are you bothering? We’ve had the whole place running hot for months. Can’t dealing with them wait a little longer?”

  Slam
ming his fist onto the desk, Dunk Two glared at him. “No! They’re a risk. Earth must be cleansed.”

  “I think you need to calm down.”

  “I think you need to grow a pair.” Leaning back in his chair, he eyed him disdainfully. “It’s that alien, isn’t it? She’s changing you.”

  The same coldness that had run down his spine earlier settled into the pit of his stomach, leaving him frozen in position. “No, of course not. How could she do that?”

  Dunk Two’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “I don’t know. There’s something funny about her.” Leaning towards him as if he was about to sniff him like a dog, he narrowed his eyes again. “Are you doing her?”

  It was an awkward question and not one he wanted to answer. Looking down at the table, he pursed his lips, refusing to reply.

  Slapping his arm sharply, Dunk Two said, “You sly dog. Alien sex, eh?” Sounding almost proud of him, he added, “That’s a first. You should write a report about it so we all know how it works.”

  His relationship with Mariana wasn’t something he wanted to share with his clone, so he pretended to roll his eyes, giving him a disgusted look.

  Seeing his expression, Dunk Two smiled magnanimously. “I didn’t realize you were conducting your own experiments. You can keep her…for now.”

  In the past, his clone irritated him, but this was the first time he felt rage coursing through his veins. Not wanting to reveal his anger, he stood. “I have to go.”

  “Well, of course you do.” Chuckling in his less than sane way, he stared up at him coldly. “You have a pet.”

  Entering his quarters, Mariana was curled into the wide chair looking out of the window. Without turning her head towards him, she said softly, “Odd mind.”

  Sitting next to her, his shoulders slumping with worry, he gave her a sidelong look. “He has the same mind as I do.”

  Reaching her hand to stroke his face, she smiled. “Not same.”