Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  “We’ll all be home in a matter of minutes, so who cares what order we go through,” Cardiff replied.

  “No, Ark is right. If the machine fails, Mex would be stuck without help. Injured go first,” Samson said sternly.

  “Why would it fail?”

  “Because tech never works the way they say it will.”

  Lace had positioned his ship onto the coordinates. “Initiating link to primary wormhole.”

  Strumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, he waited impatiently for the link to establish. He had the solution to all of their problems. They’d recovered the rest of the vials before leaving, assigning hundreds to each ship. A flicking movement next to him caught his eye. His BattleDroid was strumming its mechanical fingers in tandem to his own.

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “No.”

  “Lace, what’s happening? Why are you still here?”

  “The link is showing pending.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s not working.”

  “Pull back. I’ll try it.”

  Maneuvering his Scorpion onto the coordinates, he tapped his screen. The screen flashed the word pending, but otherwise nothing happened. Opening a communications channel to Tracha, he said, “This is Ark Three requesting ping back.”

  Hearing nothing, he reinitiated the channel. “This is Ark Three requesting ping back.”

  In the corner of his screen, the link still displayed as pending. Someone should have replied to him, or at least sent back a signal to say his message was received. This wasn’t normal, but then he wasn’t entirely sure what was. He didn’t really understand the science behind the wormhole, so he’d taken his squad through it on the blind faith it would work.

  “What do we do now?” Cardiff asked, sounding worried.

  The four ships were hanging in space. One had an injured trooper and all had vials that could save mankind. How could he be lucky enough to find a planet with the cure and so unlucky he couldn’t get it back to Earth?

  “I don’t know.”

  “We can’t wait around here,” Lace said. “Mex needs help now.”

  “We won’t make it back to Tracha without the wormhole. It’s two hundred years from here,” Samson replied.

  “So, we’re stuck?” Cardiff asked.

  They certainly looked stuck. There was no plan B to the wormhole. Either it worked or they’d accidentally relocated themselves to another galaxy. “Maybe it’s down temporarily. They could be testing something or maybe it’s on routine maintenance.”

  “Why would you think that, Ark?” Cardiff replied, her tone taking on a higher note. “If that thing doesn’t work then this is our new home.”

  “And Mex might die,” Lace said unhappily.

  “Let’s not catastrophize,” he replied, unsure whether he shouldn’t.

  “They’ll be working on it no matter what’s happened,” Samson said.

  Cardiff wouldn’t be subdued and she shouted, “What’s the plan, Ark? Did you bring us half way across the universe with no way to get us back home?”

  “No, I had a plan and it was called the wormhole. I’m sure the engineers are working on it. It’ll be up soon enough. Stop freaking out before you know there’s a problem.”

  Sounding calmer, she replied, “I don’t want to be stuck out here, Ark. You know I trust you to have our six so don’t leave our asses hanging.”

  That was exactly what he was going to do. There was no other solution. The wormhole worked or it didn’t. Sighing quietly, he replied, “Our asses aren’t the issue here. We have the best weapon against the critters on our ships. If we don’t make it home then it’s not us who’ll die.”

  “Yeah, Cardiff, you should be more worried about Earth and Tracha. They’re the ones who’ll be under attack not us,” Samson added.

  “That’s even worse. While we sit on our asses they could be dying or maybe they’re already dead,” Cardiff replied dourly.

  “Like I said, let’s not catastrophize. We’ll set up an auto ping back. Have it go every ten minutes.”

  “And what will we do while we wait for them to answer?” Cardiff asked.

  “Maybe we should go back to that planet. See if there’s anything we can scavenge,” Samson suggested.

  It wasn’t a bad idea. He could leave Lace and Mex with the mule and two BattleDroids. The alien planet was very advanced so who knew what else they might find. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll leave my droid with Lace and the mule. It’s pretty switched on.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  Blind Love

  (Dunk Three)

  “Go away.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “You need me.”

  Dunk Two was sitting in a chair by his bed with blood dripping from the wound he’d inflicted months earlier. It was running down his cheek, forming a pool at the base of his chin. From there it was plopping one drop at a time down his grey tunic.

  Sighing, he swung his feet from the bed and onto the floor. “You’re not here.”

  “You’ve taken antipsychotic meds and you can still see me.” Dunk Two leaned forward until the blood was dripping onto his knees. “What do you think that means?”

  “I need to up the dose.”

  “You need me.”

  “What for?”

  “I know things you don’t.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like who’s controlling the critters.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he studied his dead clone. “You’re not here so I’m talking to myself. What do I know that I don’t know I know?”

  His gleeful laugh and wide smile was in sharp contrast to the bleeding hole in the middle of his forehead. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “I’m sick of this game. Why don’t you just tell me?”

  Dunk Two pouted making the blood spread between his lips. “No, you have to guess.”

  Frustrated at being unable to make his brain behave, he shrugged. “If I know who controls the critters then it’s someone I know now.”

  “True.”

  “Have we been infiltrated by the enemy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it someone human?”

  “No.”

  “Is it one of the Trachans?”

  “No.”

  Wracking his brain, he tried to think of anyone else he knew. “Is it a Bom?”

  “No.”

  The only other aliens he knew were Mariana and Luki. “Is it that bird creature, Luki?”

  “No.”

  “Is it Mariana?”

  Dunk Two smiled, only now his teeth were stained red with blood. “Maybe.”

  “Is it Mariana’s people?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly feeling angry with himself, he asked sharply, “What sort of answer is that?”

  While he’d been arguing with himself, the subject of their brawling had walked into the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mariana studied the chair Dunk Two was sitting on.

  “Can you see him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he really here?”

  “He is you.”

  Leaning across the bed, he took her hand. “Are you with me?”

  “Yes.”

  Trying to explain himself more clearly, he asked, “Are you here to help or harm me?”

  “I help you.”

  She did help him. Whenever he was in contact with her, his mind became quieter. The voices went away and so did his dead clone. Despite what she was doing for him, Dunk Two made it clear something about her was bothering him. Studying her delicate face framed by wild honey-colored hair, he was in love with her and it was clouding his mind. Could her warm purple eyes and fragile body be the face of their true enemy? He didn’t want that to be true so he pulled her closer, closing his eyes in defeat.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  SNAFU

  (Tank)

  “Sitrep.�
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  Battalion Commanders began listing the number of ships left under their control and their coordinates. The fleet was now scattered across many solar systems. In fighting their way towards Earth, he’d lost nearly half of their ships. Everywhere they went, critters of different types would appear as if by magic, blocking their path and starting a fight.

  Sitting in his Scorpion, a fragment that had once been the leg of a critter drifted past. There were so many of them seeming to multiply at will he wondered if they were really a virus. At the rate they were going there wouldn’t be anything left for Ark Three to come home to. Thinking of Ark made him wonder where he was. He should be leading the battle, not roaming around the universe hoping for a miracle.

  His fleet was spread in a line. All they could do was forge forward, taking the hits as they came. “All Battalions. Move forward.”

  BattleRigs were still traveling behind the faster and highly maneuverable Scorpions, only now each had its own mini fleet surrounding it. They needed the rigs. Without them, they couldn’t resupply, so all of the ships were defending them fiercely.

  “Here they come.”

  Another wall was grinding its way to block the fleet. It was so wide it covered a whole solar system, meaning it would soon erupt with thousands of critters. Just as he predicted, it exploded into a blur of movement.

  The blur dissolved until it became individual critters. Spreading wide and fast, they formed into clusters of a hundred or more. “Fire at will!”

  His ship rocked as it twisted between the critters trying to attach themselves to the hull. Using his screens, he targeted any too close, firing short bursts of beam fire. Critters in his path spun backwards, burning and exploding. It was one of the few advantages of them carrying an incendiary; at least they exploded under fire. They were now only a week from Earth, thinning herds of critters heading their way. It was all he could do and he expected to die doing it.

  The ship was now deep inside of critter-occupied space. There was no start or end to this battlefield, it moved wherever his fleet went and was going where he needed to be. Hundreds of critters were closing in on his position.

  Once they were within a twentieth of a light-year, he ordered, “Spin and spit.”

  Spin and spit wasn’t a good tactic as they were just as likely to hit one of their own, but it was every ship for itself now.

  Gripping the arms of his chair, he felt the ship spinning and flipping, firing particle beam pulses in all directions. If they waited for the critters to be close enough and densely packed then they had less chance of hitting one of their own. Pulling out from the spin, his stomach lurched unsteadily. The space around them was clear again.

  “Forward.”

  He couldn’t begin to guess how many ships they’d lose to the latest wall blocking their way only that it wouldn’t be zero. Around him, other Scorpions were still spinning, sending beam pulses past his own ship. “Evade friendly fire.”

  “We know, Tank, we know,” Bombardier Four-Two replied tiredly.

  “It helps to say something, anything.”

  “How did there get to be so many of them?”

  “I dunno. They’re like a virus infecting space.”

  “Is that what the critters are? A really bad cold?”

  He laughed, feeling something inside of him relax. “Good way of looking at it. They’re just a nasty bug.”

  One of the bugs flew at his face much like an insect once would at the windshield of a truck. Vaguely remembering his old pickup, he flicked through the screens in front of him, hoping to see the bug reappear behind them.

  “Where did that little mother go?”

  “I can’t see it.”

  “Dammit, it’s probably a Howler.”

  Standing, he grabbed his Bomhammer, slinging it across his armored shoulder. “Hold the fort, keep us steady.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get that Howler.”

  He couldn’t leave it chewing on the hull. If it penetrated then nothing would happen now all of their ships were depressurized, but it might damage the engines and leave them unable to move.

  Dropping through the tunnel, he reached the hatch under the ship. It didn’t matter if he opened the hatch, the two crew were strapped into their chairs just as he had been. Kicking it open with his foot, he eased himself through the hole, clinging to the edge. Just as he expected, a thick-limbed critter was hanging onto the rear. Its claws had torn the silver surface, but it was only one of many scars on the battered ship.

  Holding onto the edge of the hatch, he unshouldered his gun. The critter’s face was buried deeply inside of the hull, jerking back and forth while it chewed. It reminded him of an ugly suckling insect. More than eight legs spread across the hull and the main body was a black hump against the silver. If he missed then he could accidentally shoot the ship or alert the critter to his presence. He had one shot and only one.

  Swinging himself closer until the critter was only twenty feet away he needed to minimize the risk of shooting his own ship. “Hold steady.”

  “Roger that.”

  He had it dead to rights when he fired, but the ship bucked and the shot went wild. “Shit.”

  The pulse grazed the critter’s back making it lift its head. The black molded eyes were turned towards him so he knew he’d been spotted. He could have pulled himself back inside of the hatch, but his temper got the better of him.

  “Bring it on, motherfucker!”

  When the ship jolted again, his body swung away from the ship. Firmly holding onto the edge of the hatch, he allowed his legs to smash against the hull. Lifting his knees, he felt his boots lock onto the metal. The critter was moving, unlatching its claws from the hull. They were buried so deeply that it took more than a moment to pull them free. Using the short delay, he let go of the hatch relying on his magnetic boots to hold him attached to the ship. Straightening until he was standing sideways against the hull, he swung the gun across his body. The critter was rearing up with four legs still clinging to the ship. Its underbelly was exposed and he took the shot.

  The first pulse blasted a deep hole in its center, exploding on impact. The second threw it back until it was swinging by two legs, flailing away from the ship with its other legs spread widely.

  “Sayonara, asshole.”

  He fired the third and final pulse, forcing the last of the claws to let go of the hull. The critter spun into space. Crouching low, he shuffled across the hull until he could grab the edge of the hatch. Swinging himself inside, he slammed the door shut.

  “You ok, Tank?” Bombardier Four-Two asked.

  “Yeah, I’m just pissed.”

  Making his way along the short tunnel, he hauled himself back into his chair. Still holding his gun, he ordered, “Forward.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

  Last Man Standing

  (Tank)

  The closer they got to Earth the less critters there were, but it wasn’t going to stay that way. After the last wall, less than a third of the fleet were with him and he didn’t know where the rest were. Ships were fighting for every solar system, refusing to back down. The critters were equally as determined to attack them. It was one long continuous brawl until they reached Earth, ripping at one another every step of the way. It was lucky Bombardiers needed little to no sleep. Six weeks of continuous battle was wearing his naturally frayed temper.

  “Casey, hold the rigs in orbit.”

  “Don’t you want me to land?”

  “No, I need the rigs to hold the line.”

  “I don’t think we have enough ammo for that, plus we’re all carrying damage.”

  “I already know they won’t hold the line. The best they can do is buy us some time.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “Hitch a lift to CaliTech. We need to regroup. Once we’re on the ground we can send a supply ship up.”

  “What’s the plan, Tank?”

  He didn’t have a plan, which was only adding to his irritation. L
ong ago, he’d decided he was best at standing up in battle and kicking ass. He’d never wanted to be an officer in the Army, preferring to tap out as a high-ranking NCO. Compromised decisions didn’t rest well with him. Rather than spend his life wondering whether he’d made the right choices, he’d rather fight with gun in hand and leave the thinking to others. It wasn’t supposed to play out this way. Just as he’d once expected Ark to lead, it was up to Ark Three to finish the job, one way or the other.

  “They’re gonna swarm Earth so it’s every man for himself.”

  “We’re going to need a little more than that.”

  “We need to defend CaliTech.” Tapping an icon on his screen, he said, “Granger, get on the grid.”

  “I’m here. What’s happening? We’re picking up pieces of transmission, but we don’t understand what we’re hearing.”

  “There’s no perimeter.”

  Another voice spoke through his headset. “This is Parker. What do you mean by that?”

  “The critters are less than a day from Earth. Our fleet has fought for six weeks straight. We’re out of ammo and supplies. Only a third of the fleet are with me. I dunno what happened to the rest. Most ships are badly damaged. All rigs are carrying wounded.”

  Parker’s tone shifted from worried to sounding surprised. “Are you telling me we’ve lost?”

  “There’s pretty much nothing between Earth and the critters now so…” He left his sentence unfinished. The critters would invade Earth, which meant mankind had finally lost a war that had started two hundred years earlier.

  When Parker spoke again, he sounded professional and determined. “What are your orders, sir?”

  “Can you get a message through the wormhole to Ark?”

  “The wormhole is down.”

  “What happened?”

  “The two sleepers woke up and threw a bomb at it.”

  Snorting softly, he replied, “They picked their timing well. How did they know to do that?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Can Dunk Three get it working?”

  “He’s written off the smaller wormhole and is working on the larger one. Nobody blew up that one.”

  “Has he got an ETA?”

  “No, he’s umm…he’s not doing too well…mentally.”