Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  “And then what? Dunk Two releases a killer virus and wipes us out?”

  “I don’t think Dunk Two will be worrying about you.” Giving him a strained grin, Ark Three added, “He’ll be more worried about what I’m doing.”

  “And what will that be?”

  “I won’t be the bad guy. CaliTech might be full of genius engineers, but the Guild is corrupt. I won’t defend an empire that crushes some people, destroys others and numbs the rest.” Waving his hand at Tank and then at him, he said fiercely, “This planet is for all of us. It doesn’t matter what our DNA is. Dunk doesn’t get to set the gold standard for what’s acceptable and what isn’t. None of us agreed to make that asshole the boss.”

  Chuckling, Tank slapped Ark Three hard across his shoulder. “You just defined democracy.”

  “They should never have handed control to a dictator.”

  “There wasn’t much left back then, but time has moved on.”

  “Then it’s time we updated Dunk’s rules.”

  Tank carried himself with a weary confidence, as if he’d seen more than his fair share of battles. Where Ark Three was full of self-righteous indignation, the one that appeared to be older was steady and battle scarred. They made a good team, giving him the confidence that, although Ark Three might not have the experience to implement his plan, Tank did.

  Returning his attention to him, Ark Three asked, “Are you in?”

  “We’ll die.”

  “Some of you will,” Tank replied with confidence.

  Appreciating his directness, he nodded. “But it sends a message, doesn’t it?”

  “Dunk Two will eventually release the virus here, so you’re gonna die anyway.”

  He nodded at Tank again. “There’s one other thing you need to know. I, along with twenty other prisoners, were released as part of a Navigator hunt, but my hunter let me go. It’s the second time that guy has covered my ass. I think you have allies inside of their ranks.”

  Ark Three gave him a contemplative look. “Is he a guy that looks younger than he is? Kind of boyish.”

  Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he asked, “Do you know who he is?”

  “No, I’ve never spoken to him, but I’m pretty sure I met him in the officer’s mess.”

  Shrugging, Tank said, “We can’t rely on him to help during the fight. For all we know he’s a lone rebel.”

  Rubbing the spot on his neck where they should have injected the chip, he added, “The technician didn’t chip me or the woman I partnered with so I know he’s not alone.”

  “Interesting,” Tank replied. “But it doesn’t help us. We don’t know who these rebels are, but I’ll see if Ark Command have any intel on them.”

  “Don’t compromise the guy. I owe him big time.”

  Raising his hand, Tank nodded. “Don’t worry, I have contacts at Command.”

  Leaning closer to him, Ark Three asked, “So, are you in?”

  “I’ll have to convince the other leaders.”

  “Will they agree?”

  “Yes, but only because we have nothing to lose.”

  Ark Three’s hardened hand felt oddly warm against his when he gripped it tightly. “I’ll change that. I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

  Smart Critter

  (Ark Three)

  “You do understand that you’re going head to head with the navs, don’t you?” Tank asked.

  Returning to CaliTech, their ship had landed badly onto the Navigator airbase pad. Only the smartest ships were used for space travel, otherwise if they didn’t power up reliably or were prone to misunderstanding orders, they were only used for Earth-based air travel. The one they’d borrowed from the Navigators was a lousy map-reader and managed to get lost, taking them for a tour over Sacramento. They’d wasted a whole day flying across the city, but it had given him a chance to see Dunk’s empire one last time before he would never be welcomed on Earth again.

  Tank hadn’t been willing to speak openly while they were using the communications grid, but now he was badgering him. “Pay attention, Ark. What you’ve just set up is serious business. If we’re caught, then we die. It won’t matter who you are, you will be executed.”

  Walking along the path that led to the armory, he said cheerfully, “I thought you wanted to die.”

  Now he’d taken steps to stand up to the Guild he was feeling settled. An enemy was enemy regardless of the uniform they wore. Being a soldier wasn’t about defending a planet, it was about believing something was worth dying over. The Guild had no business committing genocide as an easy solution to a savage enemy. In his mind, that made them his enemy and they’d taught him what to do about that.

  Entering the armory as a Bombardier, he hesitated unsure where to go next. When he was a Navigator, he knew his gear, but his transformation to become a Bombardier was ahead of his training.

  Sighing, Tank pushed past him. “Follow me.”

  Trailing after him, he walked into the Bombardier’s section of the armory. In front of him were sets of armor, visors and weapons similar to what he was used to. Unlike his Navigator gear, there were no hydraulics and the armor was lighter, however the weapons were not. Although as a Bombardier he had advanced vision, he would need a visor to access the computer screens that controlled the weapons on the ships. With practiced ease, Tank picked up the Bombardier assault weapon they called a Bomhammer. Holding up the huge laser rifle, it was over four feet long and weighed more than forty pounds. It wasn’t just the gun that was heavy. The attached plasma grenade launcher had a drum magazine with sixteen grenades, making it too unwieldy for a normal person to handle.

  “Is this it? Don’t I need more armor?”

  Tank jabbed his stomach hard with the butt of the Bomhammer, but he didn’t feel it, nor did he step backwards. “You’re a brick wall, but be careful, you’re not fully cooked.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Over time your internal organs will shrink and you’ll be more exoskeleton than guts. Once that happens you can only be killed with an accurate shot to the head or heart, even then they’ll need to use a Burner or railgun at really close range or it’ll bounce off you.”

  Looking down at his expanded chest, he thumped at it hearing a dull knocking.

  “The exoskeleton is stronger than the nav hydraulics. Providing you know how to fight, you should win hand-to-hand combat.” Giving him a warning look, he added, “But be careful, like I said, you’re not fully cooked yet.”

  “How long does it take?”

  “Up to six months. Your organs will gradually shrink because they’re used less.”

  “How does that work?”

  “We absorb energy through our skin so we use that more than food to fuel us. We’re only eating and using enough oxygen to keep our brain functioning.” Smirking, Tank added, “We’re built like a critter, only smarter.”

  After gearing up, they left the armory to find the squads. Where the three hundred thousand Navigators had rows of dedicated buildings and training grounds, the Bombardiers had only one and another site for space training. Very little was done to prepare them for interstellar travel, so they were pretty much thrown to the wolves. It was as if Dunk hadn’t cared whether they lived or died providing there were always some of them in deep space, sending back the data and samples he wanted.

  Bombardiers were not welcome on Earth and their barracks made that quite clear. Inside of the low building were a row of large beds and a lounge area filled with sturdy chairs. Bombardier comfort was something else that Dunk hadn’t concerned himself with so, having no personal touches, the room looked like a prison. His squad were now transformed, sitting on the uncomfortable looking chairs with Tank’s team, waiting to hear the outcome of his meeting with the renegade leader.

  “So?” Cardiff asked as he walked into the room.

  “We’re good to go.”

  Tank didn’t take a seat, but stood surveying the squads. “As soon as we attack t
he medical center we can never come back to Earth again.” Sternly eyeing Cardiff, Mex, Samson and Lace, he added, “You will never see your families again. You will be hunted by Navigators and, if you’re caught, you will be executed without trial.”

  “Don’t mince your words much, do ya?” Mex muttered.

  “I want you to know how serious this is. There’s even a chance your families could be arrested.”

  Samson stood looking down at the squad staring up at him. “We’ve already talked about this, so you’re not telling us anything we don’t already know. We all signed up to serve Ark, not the Guild or any of Dunk’s clones. We don’t get to choose our missions. We don’t get to command either. We work for Ark. End of story.”

  His quietly spoken speech was said with such sincere commitment that it brought a smile to his face. Dunk had insisted only the most intelligent and stable psyches became Bombardiers. No doubt, his plan was to ensure that they would never attack Earth, but he’d made a mistake. It might have taken centuries for the Bombardiers to see Dunk’s empire for the tyrannical rule that it was, but now they had they would make a formidable enemy. Resourceful and capable, combined with almost indestructible bodies, they were the only force that could take on the Navigators. His problem was their numbers. With only two thousand Bombardiers, he didn’t stand a chance of defeating the Navigator army.

  Determined to deal with one problem at a time, he asked, “Are you combat ready?”

  A chorus of, “Yes, sir,” echoed around the room. His squad rarely called him sir, and realizing this was his first real command decision, he felt a small surge of pride.

  “Stand ready. As soon as we hear the gunfire, we’ll need to run. Bom One-oh-one. Bom Six-three. Take control of the battleship and give us cover. Suppression fire only. The rest of us will head to the medical center. I want four outside to hold back the navs until we’re out again. Try not to kill the civilians and medical personnel. When we bring Mariana and the bird out, form a guard around them. We’ll head straight to the battleship for lift off. Once we’re onboard, I want four attack ships in the air ASAP and firing on the barracks. I don’t want the navs killed. Create maximum disruption to give the renegades time to get away.”

  “Why aren’t we trying to kill the navs?” Lace asked.

  It was a good question and he only had an emotional answer to give. “I…they’re our brothers and not all of them are bad guys. Some of them are just following orders and others are defying them.”

  Cardiff raised her eyebrows, giving him a surprised look. “How do you know that?”

  “The rebel leader, Granger, was freed by one.”

  “Maybe he got lucky.”

  “No way, no how. They dropped the prisoners to play hunt the alien, and you know how that game goes. Someone decided to let him live.”

  “We never played that game,” Cardiff mused. “I’ve always wondered why.”

  Once he’d begun to question the hidden logic behind Dunk’s rules, it was obvious he’d been played in every way possible. Born to lead the Bombardiers, his training and exposure to the inner workings of the Guild had been contained so that he only saw what they wanted him to know.

  Giving Cardiff a grim look, he replied, “Bombardiers are chosen because they won’t kill without conscience. It was Dunk’s way of stopping us from attacking Earth. He knows we won’t want to kill our own people, but he doesn’t hesitate to kill anyone.”

  “But Dunk is as good as dead.”

  “No, he isn’t. His clones rule on his behalf. They’re always raised by a carbon copy of himself, which means they are him.”

  Tank’s next comment surprised him. “They need to be terminated. We should torpedo the main building on the way out. It may be our one and only chance to kill them.”

  Turning to face him, he shook his head. “I don’t care about Dunk Two, but I won’t kill Dunk Three.”

  Standing next to the sofa crammed with the oversized bodies of his new Bombardiers, Tank’s face twisted with disgust. “You’re wrong. I should have killed Dunk when the enemy aliens attacked. We could have won without him.”

  “But then we wouldn’t have the tech.”

  “Bullshit. Dunk had pulled together the smartest scientists the world had to offer. We didn’t need him, but the survivors let him do whatever he wanted and now look where we are.” Taking a step forward, Tank’s face became fierce. “He wasn’t nicknamed Dunk the Skunk for nothing. For as long as there’s one Dunk left in the world it’ll never heal. Dunk Three has to die as well.”

  His brother might look like a younger version of Dunk Two, but that was where he believed the resemblance ended. They’d been raised together, so his brother had to have beliefs similar to his own. Searching through his memory, he tried to remember anything Dunk Three had ever done that would make him think he was a psychopathic megalomaniac in the making. They’d fought as kids, mostly about games and facts, but never seriously. On the rare occasions he was proven wrong, Dunk Three would give him a lopsided grin and laugh, calling him a know-it-all. Mostly they’d played pranks on one another, giving each a score and trading games based on whoever had lost. There wasn’t anything about his brother he hated or couldn’t live with. Dunk Three might be stubborn and too smart for his own good, but he didn’t deserve to die.

  “No,” he replied firmly. “I will not do anything that could kill my brother.” When Tank opened his mouth to speak again, he raised his hand. “No.”

  Although Tank didn’t disobey his order, he did give him a worried look. He knew he thought he was being soft and not doing what was needed. Tank might be right, but he wasn’t ready to kill someone who he knew for a fact hadn’t done anything wrong. The Guild were already committing genocide based on what a species might become and not what they were. He couldn’t attack the Guild while using the same logic to kill his brother. While he stood worrying about whether he was wrong, gunfire erupted outside the walls of CaliTech.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

  Reluctant Rebel

  (Ark Three)

  At their fastest speed, a human sprinter clocked at well over twenty miles per hour, but they couldn’t maintain the pace for long. A Navigator could run equally as fast, only they needed to use muscle to move their hydraulics, so eventually they tired. As a Bombardier, he had no such limitation. He might not be cooked yet, but his bulky body had an odd grace and every step he took was no effort. With the squads, he rapidly gained pace, running across the lawns and paths towards the medical center.

  Granger had been smart about his attack, setting off multiple shooters at a considerable distance from the barracks. Periodically, the crack of long-range weapons fire could be heard. It was enough to send the Navigators out to investigate, but not so much that they took to the air. Using his advanced vision, he could see the Navigators were unloading from the barracks, racing towards the sound of the gunfire coming from multiple locations. Relying on the element of surprise, he hoped there would be no Navigators inside of the medical center guarding Mariana and Luki. Ordering four Bombardiers to remain outside of the main entrance, Bombardiers One-Zero-One and Six-Three had already peeled away, heading towards the battleship.

  While they ran across the main floor towards the stairs leading to the underground levels, no one reacted to the sight of four Bombardiers in full battle gear. They were civilians and doctors, familiar with ignoring the endless military activity around them. Clattering down the stairs in his heavy boots, he eventually gave up and jumped the flight. His new body intrigued him. Landing with a decisive thump, he almost laughed at the ease with which he could move. In the past, even in his Navigator gear, he was carrying so much weight in armor and weapons that his knees would have complained.

  Reaching the doorway to the next level, he ordered, “Samson. Lace. Stay on the door. Only move forward if we need you.”

  He’d been waiting to hear from Command and finally his radio crackled to life. “Ark Three
, you are on the grid and we can see you. What the hell are you doing?”

  Knowing he didn’t have an answer they would like, he remained silent. “Ark Three, respond to Command. That’s an order.”

  Mariana was in a room at the end of the corridor so she was easy to find, but he didn’t know where the bird was. “Can you see Luki?”

  “No, there’s a lot of interference in here,” Tank replied.

  The corridor was long and finally a Navigator appeared at the far end near Mariana’s room. His radio came alive again with a harsh sounding voice. “What’s going on here?”

  Taking down a Navigator was never easy. Their liquid based armor absorbed the impact of ballistic-style weapons, so only a plasma grenade or a powerful laser could do any real damage. Being fast on their feet and stronger than any human they made for a tough target. Although he didn’t really want to kill him, he aimed his Bomhammer at the man’s helmet.

  “Stand down.”

  Wearing a full helmet and visor, he couldn’t see the man’s face, but the surprised tone of his voice was enough. “Are you fracking kidding me? Is this some sort of training thing? No one told me we were doing that today.”

  “Drop your weapons now,” Tank said sternly.

  Although they were less than ten feet from the man, he still hadn’t raised his guns. “Frack off.” Still facing them, the Navigator spoke on the grid. “Command, I have two idiot Boms pointing guns at me. What am I supposed to do with them?”

  Leaving the man to call for his orders, he pushed on the door to Mariana’s room, startling the two technicians inside. “Mariana, come with me now.”

  Whatever they’d been doing, the two technicians stepped aside, allowing her to climb from the bed. Grabbing her by the arm, he pushed her behind him, away from the Navigator who was still talking with Command. With his hand over the mike covering his mouth, he said, “Mariana, go to the exit at the end of the corridor. They’ll take you from there.”