Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Placing his large hand over hers, he shook his head. “It’s not you, it’s us. My army are…sloppy, undisciplined and lazy.”

  Turning his head sharply, Tank frowned at him. “Steady on, Ark. That’s harsh.”

  “No, it’s not. They turn up late for drills. They don’t call one another by their titles. They spend all day playing games on the grid. They’re toy soldiers, not an army.” When Tank didn’t speak, he turned in his chair to face him. “Is that how you were trained?”

  “It was a different time and place then.”

  Tank had been alive for two hundred years, trained by an army that had long since disappeared. When he’d been through the Navigator Academy on Earth, discipline and respect had been drilled into him with an iron fist. His Bombardier and Navigator army had been through exactly the same training, but on Tracha they’d grown lazy.

  Squeezing his hand to draw his attention back to her, Tiana asked, “How did they train them on Earth?”

  “Drills, exercises, training camps, living in barracks…the kinda things we’re doing now.”

  “What made them willing to live that way?”

  “The higher the rank the better the privileges for them and their families.”

  Tiana smiled, tilting her head knowingly. “Ah, rewards.”

  Her eyes were probably her best feature. Although he couldn’t see their color, they were large, round and tipped upwards. Smiling back at her, he realized she was right. He was expecting his army to perform based on honor code alone, but the human mind needed more motivation. Once he took control from the Dunks, he could give them back their families. To win the war they would need to fight as a unified and disciplined army. He’d hoped going home would be motivation enough, but after two hundred years, most knew their families were already dead.

  “How can I reward them when you give us everything we ask for?”

  “You must give them what they want.”

  “They want to go home.”

  Anka had been quietly listening to their discussion, only now he looked concerned again. “But this is your home.”

  He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Our home is Earth and maybe that’s the reward. We get to go home.”

  Tank leaned back in his chair, chuckling deeply. “You’re not talking about just overthrowing the Dunks.” Stretching forward again, his mouth twisted into a smile that looked more like a snarl. “You’re talking about occupation.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “If we only want to overthrow Dunk’s regime then we’ll let Earth decide who governs once they’re gone. If we occupy Earth then we move in, taking control of the government, the people and its resources.”

  “So?”

  Tiana leaned forward, taking his attention away from Tank. “It means you will leave Tracha. What will happen to us if you go?”

  The Trachans had done everything they could to give the Bombardiers and Navigators somewhere to call home. He couldn’t ignore their loyalty, but Tiana was asking for an alliance. While they could go nowhere else, they’d been allies by default and it wasn’t something they’d ever discussed.

  Nodding to her and Anka, he replied, “We won’t abandon Tracha, I promise. You need Earth as much as we want it back.”

  Tiana and Anka shared a look and then he extended his mechanical hand towards him. “I believe you shake hands on a deal.”

  Grasping the metal in his hand, it felt cold and smooth to the touch, but he gripped it tightly. Before they could discuss the terms of their new agreement a Bombardier burst into the room.

  Even before the door had closed behind him, he was already standing only a few feet away. “We’ve just a received a Mayday from a ship in sector Six-Delta-Three.”

  Turning to Tank, he asked, “Who’s out there?”

  Already using the sensors in his gloves and flicking through screens, Tank shook his head. “It was a BattleRig with over two hundred crew.” Looking up at the Bombardier, he asked, “Did they say anything else?”

  “No, it’s a repeating signal.”

  As he stood to leave, Tiana rose with him. “I am coming with you.”

  CHAPTER THREE:

  Killer Logic

  (Dunk Three)

  The eight-foot tall, dull metal-colored BattleDroid stood motionless in the middle of the laboratory. Dunk Two was waving his hand through its hollow center. “The missile worked well.”

  The robot had taken considerable fire, leaving deep burns across its shoulders and embedded head. The control circuits were located in the lower half of its body, so shooting at its supposed head was a waste of ammunition. Using the wormhole to transport the robot, they’d kept the portal open, directing its movements from the safety of the laboratory in CaliTech. Cameras were located across the front and back of its body, including scanners similar to those used by the Navigators. For some reason the scanners hadn’t worked, so he was studying the footage trying to understand why.

  “Their ships make ours look like crap.”

  Dunk Two shrugged. “Who cares what they look like as long as they get the job done?”

  Highly polished silver walls mirrored the room he was looking at, creating a seemingly endless row of beds in what he assumed were living quarters. The furniture hadn’t caught his attention. It was the fifty or more Bombardiers and Navigators standing inside of it.

  “Who are the navs and Boms?”

  The footage was playing across the wide screen in slow motion. Glancing at it, Dunk Two’s upper lip curled in disgust. “We’ve been played.”

  “In what way?”

  “The Bom ships we’ve been losing aren’t lost. They’ve been going somewhere.”

  “Where did they get this ship from?”

  Narrowing his eyes and giving him a cynical stare, Dunk Two snorted softly. “The same place they’ve been going.” Clapping a hand on his thin shoulders, he added, “We have a new enemy.”

  Ark Three had attacked CaliTech, yet all he’d taken were the aliens he’d found on his first long haul into space. Dunk Two was angry about this apparent betrayal, but he knew his brother. He hadn’t been happy with their plans for Mariana and the genocide of the bird creatures had really upset him. Although they’d spoken about it, he hadn’t realized just how angry Ark Three had been. After repeatedly running their final conversation through his head, he could understand how he’d missed the signs. In the past, whenever his brother was angry, he’d sworn and kicked furniture to vent his frustration. The last time they’d met, he’d thought he’d been quiet, not angry.

  His older clone, Dunk Two, seemed to know more about Ark Three’s intent than he did. Immediately after the attack, he’d ordered the engineers to start building a larger version of the wormhole. While it was assembled outside the walls of CaliTech, he’d ordered others to ramp the production of the new BattleDroids and assault ships. Commander Casey had moved Ark Command further out into space, dropping visibility beacons along her path. Combined with the smaller wormhole, the beacons worked as a chain, providing instant communications across space. After spending six months shoring up his war machine, Dunk Two was now testing its strength.

  Studying the damaged BattleDroid, Dunk Two said, “The larger wormhole is almost set up.”

  This was the next phase of the plan. Dunk Two would send assault ships through the larger wormhole. Long distance beacons would provide a set of coordinates, meaning their ships could travel to the location in a matter of seconds. Navigators wouldn’t go into stasis, effectively eliminating the need for Bombardiers to man a spacecraft while they slept. It was through one of their furthest placed beacons that they’d spotted the silver spaceship, providing them with the coordinates to send the BattleDroid. They hadn’t known what they’d find, but Dunk Two had taken control of the robot.

  Still studying the images of the Bombardiers and Navigators, he shook his head. “You just made the first strike.”

  “Bullshit. Ark did that when he attacked CaliTech.
”

  The argument had been raging between them for six months and he was tired of having it. “No, he didn’t. All he did was rescue the aliens.” Turning to look at Dunk Two, he added pointedly, “From you.”

  “Treason is treason. There’s no changing the definition just to suit yourself.”

  Straightening and walking across to Dunk Two, his upper lip curled when he looked at the BattleDroid and then his clone. “You just started a war that you don’t know he was going to have.”

  Waving his hand dismissively, Dunk Two gave him a disgusted look. “He started the war when he attacked us.” Pointing at the screen still showing the fifty or more Bombardiers and Navigators, his face grew red. “Now we find out our ships haven’t been destroyed and the Boms have been abandoning their post. Do you know what this means?” Without waiting for him to reply, Dunk Two continued, working himself into a rage. “I always said the Boms were a risk and I was right. Not only have they abandoned Earth, they’ve got access to different tech…possibly better tech.”

  Trying to talk to his clone was like having a conversation with a parrot. No matter what he said, Dunk Two was fixated on Ark Three, accusing him of treason, double-crossing, lying, cheating and now stealing technology. In his mind, Ark Three hadn’t done anything other than rescue the aliens. Glancing at the slow moving image on the screen, he had to wonder just how far his brother would go to change CaliTech.

  “We need to talk to him.”

  When Dunk Two shouted, wet spittle flew from his mouth, landing on the burn scars running along the BattleDroid’s shoulders. “No! We need to stop him!” Thrusting his face towards him, his lips curled away exposing his clenched teeth. “You can’t trust Ark and now he’s got advanced tech and an army.” Angrily shaking his head, he muttered, “What’s wrong with you?”

  He didn’t think anything was wrong with him, but he was starting to wonder if megalomania was a degenerative disease. While his clone had always irritated him, in recognition of their common DNA, they’d shared an uneasy alliance. Ark Three’s sudden departure had triggered an almost primal rage in Dunk Two, making him angry in a way he couldn’t reason with. Not content with ramping his war machine, he’d sent the Navigator Army into the cities, effectively placing the country under Martial Law. Other countries hadn’t escaped his fury either. Needing new cells to create more ships, he’d pillaged their scant resources. Every person in the cities was being tested again for alien DNA with executions taking place daily. For reasons he didn’t understand, Dunk Two had placed the planet into a state of siege before Ark Three had done anything.

  Turning away from the madness in Dunk Two’s eyes, he looked at the screen again, studying the fixed faces of the men and women who would soon be dead. “You’re overreacting.” With some distance between them, he looked over his shoulder at his clone. “Is this why our creator killed the first Ark? Did he become paranoid like you?”

  His question seemed to calm Dunk Two, making him snort contemptuously. “It’s not paranoia when the whole universe is out to get you. It’s called commonsense.”

  Snorting softly himself, he replied, “I wouldn’t call executing your own people commonsense.” In front of him, the footage was slowly rolling forward, showing the missile exploding through the door until the screen went black. Pointing at the empty screen, he shook his head. “The difference between you and I is that where you see a demonstration of the BattleDroid, I see our people being executed.”

  Stepping closer to him again, Dunk Two stared at him coldly. “Firstly, there is no difference between you and I. You’re only a younger version of me and I am who you will be. Secondly, the Boms are no longer human, so they’re not our own. Thirdly, the navs with them have committed treason and the penalty for that is death.”

  He couldn’t argue with his logic, everything he’d just said was true, but something wasn’t right. Ark Three and Dunk Two had always largely ignored one another. It didn’t make sense for them to turn into sworn enemies with so little provocation. They didn’t need to kill one another and he wasn’t even sure if that’s what Ark Three intended to do. It was as if a switch had been flicked and their once indifferent relationship had turned into a war.

  “You can’t condemn Ark for something he hasn’t done.”

  “Why not? We execute anyone with alien DNA when they haven’t done anything, so what’s the difference?”

  Rapidly blinking his eyes, he was unable to conceal his shock. “That’s one of the things Ark didn’t like. Why are we executing people? What was wrong with leaving the renegades in the outlands? They aren’t causing a problem.”

  Dunk Two was clearly losing what little patience he had. Through clenched teeth, he spat each word distinctly. “Yes. They. Are. Ark Three used them to create a distraction. That’s treason.” Forming his pale hand into a twisted fist, he raised it high in the air before slamming it down between them. “I don’t understand why you don’t get it. Ark attacked CaliTech. The renegades helped him. They committed treason. They must all die.”

  While they’d argued, the technicians and engineers inside of the room had pointedly ignored them, but now many turned around from their benches, staring at them in surprise. Seeing their worried looks, Dunk Two waved his hand dismissively. “Not you. You have the right DNA.” Beaming almost magnanimously, he spread his arms widely. “And not only that, you’re the creators of my army.” Pointing at several of them, he added benignly, “Between us we’ll make the universe safe again.”

  The smiles he received in return for his speech were clearly nervous. Dunk Two might have a brilliant mind, but he was no leader. Maybe that was the real core of the argument between him and Ark Three. His brother was a natural, able to win the trust of almost anyone on first meeting. He and his clone made people uncomfortable even when they were being friendly.

  Did Dunk Two envy Ark Three’s easy leadership? Was it possible his growing hatred of Ark Three was simple jealousy? He’d never cared that his brother could do some things better than he could, but this was the third time one of the Ark line had earned the wrath of a Dunk.

  He didn’t want to hate his brother, nor did he want him to die. Narrowing his eyes at Dunk Two, he leaned closer to him. “What are you planning to do?”

  Dunk Two seemed steady again, making him aware just how rapidly his moods were cycling. One moment he was enraged, the next magnanimous, and now he appeared relaxed. “About what?”

  Pursing his lips, he took a deep breath. “About Ark.”

  “What makes you think I’m planning anything?”

  “Because I am you.”

  “Maybe so, but you’re younger and not as quick on the uptake.”

  His heart rate began to lift. By avoiding his question, Dunk Two was hiding something he didn’t want him to know. Grabbing him by the arm, he clenched his hand. Digging the tips of his fingers into the soft flesh, he half hoped it might leave a lasting mark. “Don’t.”

  Sounding almost innocent, Dunk Two didn’t bother pulling away and gave him a sly smile. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t hurt Ark.”

  Tilting his head, his mouth compressed into a thin line turning his smirk into a grimace. “And if I do?”

  Pulling his hand away, he contemplated his clone knowing he was calling his bluff. What would he do if Dunk Two killed Ark Three? Would he kill him in retaliation or would he simply let the subject drop? Scanning through his thoughts, he realized he didn’t have an answer. In calling his bluff, Dunk Two was highlighting the true psychopath he knew was lurking inside of him. With that one question, all of the loathing he had for Dunk Two he felt for himself. Not only was he jealous of Ark Three’s ability to lead, he also resented his self-confidence. Ark Three knew what he stood for, but the same could not be said of him.

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  Enemy Mine

  (Ark Three)

  The nanobytes had been hard at work, sealing and healing the ship as best they could. Finding it drifting throu
gh space, clearly they hadn’t managed to get the engines working, otherwise like a homing pigeon the ship would have returned to Tracha. With the base of the BattleRig missing, Tank had landed their Scorpion on top of a wing of the lame vessel. Like every ship, this one had hatches for the escape pods, but none of them looked open. His magnetic boots were holding him to the surface while he tugged at one of the hatches. A lamp on his helmet was lighting his way, showing the outline of a coffin shaped pod nestled inside of the tube.

  “No one escaped.”

  Tank was helping Tiana into the tube behind him before following her inside. Typical of the younger generation, she and those her age didn’t entirely agree with their parents. Where her father only wanted peace, Tiana had more of an edge. Rebellious, she’d insisted on being trained as a Navigator, only she wasn’t human or a Bombardier. Built entirely from self-repairing mechanical organs, she was almost as indestructible as a Bombardier, while appearing to be fragile like a human on the outside.

  Squeezing his wide frame past the pod, Tank joined him inside of the dark corridor. “Don’t be so sure. Boms are tough.”

  With his Bombardier eyesight, he could usually see through walls, but signals from the nanobytes were causing interference. Tapping a control on the wall, he hoped it would light up. “Do you think the nanos got the power up?”

  “They would not do that,” Tiana replied. “If there is no one on board they redirect all power to themselves.”

  Although she was wearing a helmet and suit, he could still see the outline of her face through the visor. Pushing his hand from the panel, she began tapping the pad.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving them new orders.”

  Before he could ask what they were, it became apparent when the corridor lit up. “That’s better. Have we got any environmentals?”