Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Staying safe aboard the Scorpion might have been a good plan, but much like being in battle, he didn’t feel he could see enough through the droid’s cameras. Dropping from the hatch, his feet sunk into something soft under the water. Bending low, he cleared the ship, straightening as he did.

  “Bad idea, Ark,” Samson said.

  “I can’t get a feel for anything through the cams.”

  The droid was standing twenty feet away, still thigh-high in the water. Above him the two Scorpions were hovering low, ready to fire at anything that might come for them. He could only see and hear the planet, but it wasn’t enough. Flicking up the faceplate on his helmet, he sniffed cautiously at the air. There was more than enough oxygen for a Bombardier, but the place stank of smoke and rotting flesh.

  Branches were still falling into the water, making it ripple with the impact. The movement made him miss what was happening under the water. Something latched onto his calf, winding itself around both of his legs. Tightening sharply, it pulled his two legs together, throwing him off balance. Suddenly he found himself tumbling backwards into the water, splashing wildly as he fell.

  His faceplate was still up and he quickly reached to close it, instantly regretting his decision. Something was sending electric shocks into his suit, making his screens flicker. When the onboard computer in his combat armor died, all he had was a darkened visor covering his eyes. Rolling over in the water, he grabbed at his ankle tearing at whatever was tying his legs together. What he found was hard and he tried to pull it out of the water.

  The limb seemed to have no end, but he finally surfaced a thick rope like tentacle. Glancing past it, more tentacles were zipping through the water. Wrapping around the droid, they entangled with its metal body.

  “Droid, defend.”

  In response to his order, it began tearing at the rope-like tentacles wrapping around it.

  “Shoot! Shoot!”

  “At what?” Cardiff asked, sounding panicky and confused.

  Staring at the tentacle in his hand, it was waving wildly and trying to wrap itself around his wrist. Something was winding around his waist, squeezing tightly. His armor would protect him, but he didn’t know what to shoot at to stop the attack. The tentacle was similar to the branches hanging from the trees and his brain made a connection.

  “Shoot the trees! The forest is alive!”

  Gunfire erupted from above him. The two Scorpions were circling the hole, making it wider with every shot. Trees were exploding, catching fire and throwing up pieces of what he’d once thought was bark.

  His droid was still pulling at the tentacles wrapping around its body, ripping them apart. “Droid, return to ship.”

  Walking steadily, ripping at the ropes trying to bind it, the BattleDroid trudged towards him. When it was only a foot away, he felt something yank him under the water, pulling him downward. Falling backwards, water filled his vision. It was a dirty brown color, filled with brown chunks and green lumps. He was on his back being dragged further from the ship.

  Trying to sit up and clutching at whatever had him by the ankles, he shouted, “Droid, assist!”

  Whatever was pulling at him, it was gaining speed and the back of his head bumped against the hard surface under the water. Brown sludge filled his vision and he struggled to sit upright. “Droid! Assist!”

  Something grabbed him under the arms. Now he was being dragged with his legs hauled in one direction and his upper body in the other. He’d become the rope in a tug-of-war. If each end were equally matched then he would be torn in half.

  “Droid?”

  “Assist. To provide aid.”

  Being helped by a metal dictionary was bizarre, but now was not the time to object. Sharply pulling up his legs, he managed to draw his feet closer to his hands. Running them along his calves, rope-like tentacles were wrapped around each. Pushing his fingers between them, he hooked around one, closing his hand into a fist. Between the droid dragging him from behind and him managing to loosen at least one of the tentacles, he was moving back towards the ship. Surfacing from the water, all he saw was smoke. His squad were bombing the forest around the hole they’d made, adding to the disruption of the water. Suddenly his body lifted and he was pushed into the hatch. Tentacles were still clinging to his legs, but the BattleDroid was ripping them away.

  Clawing his way along the short tunnel to the Bridge, he grabbed the side of his chair. His visor screens were fried, so he flicked up his faceplate, tapping the screen on the console. The heavy movement of the BattleDroid followed the distinct sound of the hatch closing. A round head appeared at the hole in the floor and his droid returned to its usual chair next to him.

  As the ship lifted into the air, it intoned, “Assistance rendered.”

  “You’re a really funny guy, you know that?”

  “Rhetorical question. Answer not required.”

  “Next time you see me in danger you’re always to save me. Don’t wait to be told.”

  “Order received and recorded.”

  The three Scorpions hovered above what he’d thought was a forest, but had turned out to be a lifeform. In making a hole, they’d effectively declared war. It wasn’t anything he’d meant to do, making him realize they had no idea what they were doing. Finding the home of the critters was probably nothing a small squad could do without dying.

  “That didn’t go well,” Cardiff said dourly.

  “Maybe this isn’t doable,” he replied, feeling deflated.

  “Let’s not quit yet.”

  “I think we should keep looking,” Samson said, adding his weight to Cardiff’s words.

  They’d only found two planets in this galaxy and neither had been like anything in their own. So far, their tour had proved one thing to him. He’d completely underestimated what the universe contained. Where he’d once found it boring and strangely predictable, he’d been very wrong.

  “Alright. We’ll try one more planet that looks like it might have life on it, but if it tries to kill us like the last two then we’ll head back.”

  “Are we giving up on the mission?” Cardiff asked in disbelief.

  “No, we just need more muscle.”

  CHAPTER SIX:

  Lucky Punk

  (Tank)

  “How do you feel?”

  Running her hands over her naked belly, Casey paused to prod at her gut. “The same as I ever did, except I’m not as tired anymore.”

  His first wife, Jada, had died of cancer over two hundred years earlier. The shock of learning her diagnosis and prognosis was something that had stuck with him. In many ways, he still thought of her as his one true love, which wasn’t fair to any of the women he’d been with since. Finding out Casey was sick in much the same way had broken through a frozen part of his mind, finally warming him in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

  Pulling her closer until her head rested on his chest, he used his other hand to slip a visor over his eyes. They were traveling to the last known position of the lost Battalion. Bombardier One-Zero-One had sent her troops out in HackSuits, meaning some might still be alive. They could have crash-landed on planets or still be drifting through space. It wasn’t like him to be optimistic, but Casey’s recovery had left him uncommonly lighthearted. In the hope of finding anyone in a HackSuit, he’d spread a squadron of Scorpions across their flight path.

  Lifting her head from his chest, she asked, “What do you see?”

  “Nothing much.”

  Finding the BattleRig slowly making its way back to Tracha, he’d boarded it with a squad. It was undamaged and empty. Every Scorpion was gone as were weapons, ammunition, armor, escape pods and HackSuits. Left to find its way home alone, the ship had an eerie stillness. There was no sign it had ever been boarded or attacked, so he couldn’t understand why abandoning ship had been Bombardier One-Zero-One’s only choice.

  Thinking about her only made him edgier and he sat up reaching for his pants. “I’m gonna head to the Bridge.” Twisting an
d quickly kissing her, he added, “You should get some sleep.”

  Smiling up at him, she said archly, “I’m now pretty much immortal too, you know.”

  Her mechanical organs would keep her alive much like a Trachan, but she wasn’t a Bombardier. “Maybe so, but you still need more sleep than I do.”

  Quickly dressing, he paused before he left, looking back at her naked body lying on the bed. He would stay if only for her company, but he was used to filling twenty-three hours of a day working. She was already dozing again so he turned away, walking through the door of his quarters on the BattleRig.

  Arriving at the Bridge, he relieved the second-in-command, easing himself into the center chair. “Sitrep.”

  “Why can’t you just ask what’s going on?” Bombardier Four-Two grumbled.

  “Are you gonna tell me or not?”

  “We’re close to the coordinates of the Mayday call and we’ve sent out visibility pods.”

  “And?”

  “There’s nothing there, just empty space.”

  “Then we need to survey the nearest planets.”

  “They could be anywhere, Tank.” Waving his hand at the holographic images of the space around them, he added, “Space is big…and very empty.”

  “She couldn’t have gone far without resupplying so they have to be on one of the closest planets.”

  Not waiting for a reply, he was already flicking through screens. The visibility pods were providing a map of the nearest planets. He thought three might be within range of a fleet of Scorpions.

  “I want three search parties. You can lead one and I’ll lead another. Bom Six-Three can handle the third. Do a flyover. Look for any crash sites or survivors.”

  “That could take forever. How are we supposed to check the entire surface?”

  “Split up and fly low and fast. With any luck the survivors will hear us.”

  “If there are any.”

  Bombardier Four-Two was dampening his good mood, leaving him irritable. “Quit whining and JFDI.”

  “JFDI?”

  Glaring at him, he frowned. “You know what that means, so just fucking do it.”

  Snorting, Bombardier Four-Two stood. “Nobody says fucking anymore either. You’re really out of touch.”

  He already knew he was a man out of time. Although his brain could keep going, he’d grown tired of adapting. The one constant about life was change, but there came a time when a man had enough. It wasn’t as if anything ever changed for the better, it was just different from before.

  Sighing to himself, his good mood completely lost, he tapped his private communications channel. “Casey, I’m heading out with a search party.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Trachan engineers had told her to give her body time to adjust to the new organs. “But…”

  “Don’t start with me, Tank. I’m coming with you. They’re my troops too.”

  Sometimes he forgot Casey had led the Navigators for more than a decade. Based upon everything he’d heard she’d been a good leader, just not confident in her battle skills. He could ask Ark Three to assign her a Battalion, but he didn’t want to. Maybe he was being selfish by not letting her become battle hardened, but he didn’t want her in any danger. At least when she was with him he could take care of her. Just as he’d once protected Ark Three’s grandmother, Lexie, he wanted to do the same for Casey. Was he right? Probably not, but he was prepared to abuse his role as Commander if it kept her safe.

  Within three hours, he was traveling with four other Scorpions, heading towards a planet in sector Seven-Bravo-Two. Just as Bombardier Four-Two had predicted there wasn’t much in the area other than some dead rocks. If Bombardier One-Zero-One was on any of them then there was little she could do, other than wait for help. Reaching the atmosphere, they burned red as they broke through it. After ordering the pilots to each take a segment of the planet, he flew low and fast.

  Brown and dry with small clusters of low rocks there wasn’t much to see. Casey was acting as his co-pilot and she asked, “What are the odds?”

  “Not great. It’s been a week. The Boms might survive this terrain, but I doubt a nav would.”

  Visibility pods were orbiting the planet and sending images to his screen. Trying to see the land below while assessing the images was making him dizzy. In his day, all they had was television and the internet. Back then no one had been expected to process this much data. The next generations adapted to the visors and advanced viewing as if they’d been born to it, but he still struggled with the pace.

  Casey was scanning the screens. “There.”

  When she froze and zoomed in on the image, the ground was dotted with black bodies and the trademark silver of their ships. Resetting his coordinates, the Scorpion veered towards them.

  “Looks like they put up a fight.”

  “Doesn’t look like they won,” Casey replied, her voice thick with worry. “Where are they if they did?”

  Bombardier One-Zero-One was smart, which was why he’d strongly recommended she become a Battalion Commander. If there were any way to save her troops then she would have found it.

  Sharing the zoomed image with the other pilots, he said, “Look lively, we have signs of a crash…and critters.”

  “Roger that.”

  They were nearing the location captured by the visibility pods and he slowed the Scorpion, hoping survivors might see or hear them.

  “There,” Casey said excitedly.

  She was highlighting a point on their shared screen, enlarging a segment. In the middle of the broken ships and dead critters, there was a small movement that could have been made by wind had there been any. Drawing closer, the image became larger, slowly turning into the shape of a fully armored Bombardier waving at the sky. Another joined the first lone soldier as one-by-one more began emerging from the ground.

  Giving a short barking laugh, he increased his speed towards them, landing only a hundred yards from where they stood. Over fifty fully armored Bombardiers were clustered around a small hole in the ground.

  Dropping from the hatch on the Scorpion, he strode across to them. With their faceplates flicked up, he assumed they were low on power. Flicking up his own faceplate, he called, “How goes it?”

  Bombardier One-Zero-One was walking towards him. “It kinda sucks.”

  Standing in front of her, he looked for any signs of injury. Her armor had been shredded at the shoulder, but otherwise she looked well enough. “What happened?”

  “There’s a new type of critter.”

  “Did the navs make it?”

  When Bombardier One-Zero-One shook her head, he heard Casey take a sharp breath. Humans weren’t designed to survive in space, much less a critter attack and crash landing on an inhospitable planet. She wouldn’t cry now, but he was in for a long night when they got back to the rig.

  “Did you find my troops in HackSuits?”

  It was his turn to shake his head, making Bombardier One-Zero-One look at the ground between them. Both women were tough, but neither would take their losses well.

  “You saved your Boms and the rig made it back.”

  She looked up at him, shaking her head. “That’s not the point, Tank. We hit a wall and then it turned into an army of critters. How are we supposed to win against that? We don’t have enough weapons or troops and they’re already here.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  Bug Out

  (Tank)

  “Where’s Ark?”

  The wormhole allowed them to send communications through the link, so Dunk Three’s face was looming large on the screen in front of him. Since killing his clone, he must have dropped thirty pounds and he hadn’t been a large man to begin with. His pale face now showed the sharp lines of his cheekbones and his eyes had a hollowed look.

  “He jumped through the wormhole to explore other galaxies.”

  “What for?” Dunk Three asked dully.

  “He’s looking for the source of the critt
ers.”

  “That’s like looking for a needle in haystack.”

  He had to agree, but after talking to Bombardier One-Zero-One their situation was fast becoming desperate. Although they’d found two hundred survivors spread across the planet, it meant they’d lost six hundred troopers, two BattleRigs and forty Scorpions. Ark Three kept telling him they couldn’t afford to lose any more troops and he was right.

  “I know, but the critters are adapting. We lost most of a Battalion in their latest trick.”

  “I saw the footage.”

  “What can you offer by way of weapons?”

  Dunk Three screwed up his face in disgust, adding to his already haggard look. “We’ve given you Bombardiers and the ability to create more. You have a wormhole that can move small ships and I’m working on a larger one. The BattleDroids have been adapted to give them artificial intelligence. You have the entire nav army and you already had the better ships. What else do you want?”

  “It’s not enough. The latest type of critter brought down an entire Battalion. What else can you give us? Shields? Bigger bombs? Teleportation?”

  “What do think I am? A wizard? I can’t just wave a magic wand.”

  “You’ve always come through for us before.”

  Shaking his head, Dunk Three’s upper lip curled in contempt. “I’m only a clone of Dunk. You’re the soldiers. You work it out.”

  With that abrupt comment, the transmission ended. Casey was sitting next to him out of view of the camera, only now she leaned forward. “What’s eating him?”

  “I dunno. To be honest, I’ve never had much to do with Dunk Three. Mostly I dealt with number two.”

  “I don’t know him either, but he doesn’t seem a lot different from the other one.”

  “Well, I don’t think we can expect much help from CaliTech.”

  “Where does that leave us?”

  His chair at the meeting room table creaked in protest as he leaned back. After bringing home the lost Battalion, they’d settled into the meeting room in the loading bay on Tracha. Bombardier One-Zero-One’s briefing had been unsettling. A critter the size of a city wasn’t anything he knew how to beat. If they couldn’t blow it up, it meant critters could make their way to Earth or Tracha, and there was no way to stop them. Once the black wall was in orbit it could reconfigure into an army of critters.