Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Her answer explained the strange glow around her body. It also made clear why she wanted the issue of leadership resolved quickly. Not only wasn’t she experienced with warfare, she was going to die soon enough. She was right. It was best she stayed behind the lines dealing with logistics than be in the front leading the troops.

  Feeling genuine sympathy for her, he said, “After we sort this out with the Dunks we’ll get your son. Both of you should come back to Tracha. They might be able to help you.”

  “How? Tank told me that they’re experts in mechanical, not biological.”

  “Maybe so, but my…” He hesitated, unsure how to describe Tiana. “My girlfriend is fully mechanical on the inside. She’s half machine, half biological.”

  “Are you suggesting they can rebuild me from the inside?”

  He shrugged, giving her a faint smile. “If you’re going to die anyway then why ignore a possible treatment.”

  Casey was a fighter and he could almost see a flicker of hope igniting inside of her. Giving him a wry smile, she nodded firmly. “I’ll take it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:

  Dead Space

  (Tank)

  He missed Ark Three, not just for his company, but also his tactics. His grandfather, Ark, took an odd view of battle and his grandson did the same. They both had a knack for seeing something that had never been done before and then doing it.

  Surrounded by three thousand Scorpions the fleet was driving forward. He should be seated deep inside of the lead BattleRig, but instead he was in his own Scorpion, flitting across the line as if he could herd them like sheep. Scorpions were docking and leaving the hundred and thirty BattleRigs, resupplying with ammunition and weapons. With their highly polished silver color, the lights from stars were reflecting against their hulls. From his position at the front of the line, they looked like a moving star system.

  With no battle template to follow, he’d ordered them to travel widely apart, hoping to spread the risk of an attack. Casey had warned him about the space defense grid where Navigator Battleships sat at the center of the assault ships. He had to break through or Ark Three would be left stranded on Earth. Casey had assured him at least thirty percent of her troops were also members of the rebel force. When he’d asked her why she’d done nothing about it, she’d simply shrugged. Her loyalty was to her troops, not the Guild and certainly not the Dunks.

  His radio crackled to life. “We’ve got visuals.”

  “Of what?”

  “Four thousand assault ships, thirty light-years ahead.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Just hanging.”

  “Have they seen us?”

  “Can’t tell, but they’re not moving.”

  What would Ark do? He would look for a strength, something the enemy didn’t have. He could imagine the Navigators in their two person ships, dressed in heavy battle gear, bored out of their skulls. If he were with them, he’d put the ship on autopilot and have himself a nap. Smiling to himself, he realized that was his advantage. Navigators were arrogant. It came with being superior to everyone else. Having never dealt with a real enemy, for the most part they swaggered around owning everywhere they went. They were loyal to their Battalion, fighting with one another as if they were the enemy. Granger had said there was a rebel force inside of their ranks and he didn’t doubt it. With no clear enemy, Casey had done her best to maintain cohesion, but ranks of aggressive arrogant troops led to petty divisions.

  It might have been two hundred years since he was trained by the army, but some things never changed. There were arguments between the regiments back then and there were now. Soldiers were always proud of their colors, willing to fight to the death even against their own. Divide and conquer was an old tactic, making him wonder why he hadn’t thought of using it earlier. He needed to make contact with the rebel Navigators, but he didn’t know how. If it were his underground army then he’d have a way of communicating with them. It wouldn’t be difficult to talk in code on the Navigator grid.

  Opening a channel to the Navigator grid, he said, “This is Tank, Bombardier Battle Commander. I have a message for the rebel Navigators. We’re coming through whatever it takes. Who do you want to lead you? Dunk Two or Ark Three? Fight with me and Ark Three will take command of the Guild. Fight against me and you’re stuck with Dunk Two. Choose.”

  His fleet was still moving forward and they’d be in the battle zone within thirty minutes. He’d laid down a challenge, but it remained to be seen whether anyone would respond to his call.

  “All Fleet Commanders. Prepare to engage.”

  The Scorpions were surging ahead of the BattleRigs, forming a wall of silver ships. Behind them were another two walls. Each layer in the wall had been named; First Fleet, Second Fleet and Third Fleet. The two armies would go ship to ship in less than twenty minutes. The Navigator assault ships were visible now, each one still idling as if nothing was about to happen. He considered repeating his message, but then decided they’d heard him.

  One by one, Navigator assault ships began breaking formation, moving forward to the front of their line. Rapidly gaining speed, at least five hundred ships were headed towards his wall of Scorpions. It didn’t make sense. Five hundred assault ships against an army of three thousand Scorpions was no contest. The assault ships began forming a single file with one behind the other.

  “Hold your fire.”

  They were moving towards his ship. If they didn’t stop then they would break through his wall like an arrow piercing a target.

  “Hold your fire.”

  They were so close now he could see the two Navigators in the cockpit. The lead assault ship was headed straight for his, but before it reached the front line, it flicked sharply to the left. As it went past, the Navigator in the second seat saluted him. Continuing along the wall of silver ships, it drew in front of his line, adding its strength to theirs. Each ship flicked past him by way of salute until he’d added five hundred more ships to his front line.

  It wasn’t the right way to say it, but he couldn’t think of a better word. “Charge!”

  On his order, the wall of ships hit full acceleration, heading straight into the Navigator net. Even before he made it to the first assault ship, dogfights had started behind the enemy lines. It seemed not everyone wanted to work for Dunk Two.

  Targeting the first assault ship, he twisted the Scorpion until he was traveling sideways, opening fire. Skimming across the top of an assault ship, it exploded in his wake. Ahead of him, Navigators were already fighting with their own. First Fleet had followed him into the net. Working in teams of two, they targeted one assault ship after the next.

  Navigator Battleships were scattered through the net, making them a tough target. “Second Fleet. Target enemy Battleships.”

  Second Fleet moved forward. He still had Third Fleet ready to go, but he waited, wanting to hold them in reserve. His own crew were moving his ship across the battlefield, taking potshots at the enemy. He was monitoring the screens on his visor, while also watching what was happening around him. When Ark Three had launched himself into the middle of the battlefield, he’d thought he was crazy, but now he understood. By being both above and in it, he could see his enemy’s weaknesses as well as their own.

  First Fleet was running out of ammunition or being destroyed. “Third Fleet. Move forward. First Fleet. Retreat and resupply.”

  Third Fleet surged forward, taking over dogfights with the enemy ships. Damaged or depleted Scorpions were pulling out of the battlefield, heading for the large BattleRigs in the rear with the gear.

  “Ship’s Captains. Report combat ready status.”

  “BattleRig Alpha reporting. Thirteen battle ready. Twelve battle ready in ten. Five lost.”

  “BattleRig Delta reporting. Fifteen battle ready. Seven battle ready in ten. Eight lost.”

  The one hundred and thirty BattleRigs continued reporting numbers, leaving him confused about how many ships he had lef
t. He was about to demand an aggregate number when he realized it didn’t matter. They knew their mission. Trying to micromanage was pointless in a battlefield that was changing this rapidly. Once again, Ark Three was right. He didn’t need to know where every ship was or what it was doing. They knew what they had to do.

  “All Fleets. Watch out for friendlies. Target enemy Battleships. Disable enemy and move forward. BattleRigs. Maintain secure distance.”

  He only needed to break through the line. Once he reached Earth, he could hold it hostage. The Scorpions would hover over the cities as a threat, forcing the Dunks to concede or lose the little they had left. Ark Three wouldn’t approve of the tactic so he hadn’t bothered telling him what he intended to do. The kid was green in the ways of war, thinking every conflict had some sort of gentlemanly resolution. That wasn’t how war worked, but Ark Three would have to learn that for himself. In the meantime, he would add the ruthless edge whenever it was needed.

  Three Navigator assault ships broke away from engagements, speeding towards his position. He didn’t know if they were friend or foe, so he used his control panel to target them. If the incoming ships weren’t friendlies then they wouldn’t survive an attack.

  “Pull back.”

  His crew complied. As they retreated, the assault ships continued gaining on them. “Firing weapons.”

  Missiles exploded from his ship, making it rock slightly with the blast. One shot went wild, but the other hit its mark. The assault ship spun backward with the explosion, leaving chunks of brown to drift away in space. As the ship went down another one replaced it, meaning he still had three ships on his tail.

  “Evasive maneuvers.”

  In response to his order, his ship began zipping left and right, up and down. His crew were making them a hard target, but while they were being chased, he was losing track of the battle.

  “Shake ‘em off.”

  They were gaining on them. Using his control panel, he tried to lock onto another one, but it was moving too fast, jerking in all directions.

  “Dammit.”

  Suddenly the Scorpion flipped, spinning madly. Fighting to get the ship back under control, he could hear the crew cursing. “We’re hit.”

  “I know that. Are we down?”

  He didn’t get an answer, but the ship leveled again, turning sharply as it did. The three assault ships pressed their advantage by firing at them simultaneously. His own ship spun to the right, accelerating into the turn. Undeterred, the three ships copied their move, still firing. Their ship was moving erratically and fast, making them a hard target, but that didn’t seem to bother the three ships. It was then that he finally realized what they were doing. By hunting him hard, he was being driven further from the center of the battlefield. His mistake was traveling as a lone Commander.

  The three ships continued pushing them further from the battlefield, driving them into empty space. If they got them out in the open, there would be no cover, no backup, no defense. It galled him to ask, but he opened a channel to the fleet. “Command Ship under attack. Render immediate aid.”

  Now even further from the battlefield, he found himself staring into empty space. It had only taken three enemy ships to chase him away from his own fleet. Casey might not have any battle experience, but she’d trained her Navigators well. Feeling a grudging respect for their tactics, he ordered the crew to arc back towards their BattleRigs. Feeling the movement of the ship turning, the three assault ships weren’t letting their prey leave without a final showdown. It wasn’t a fight he would win, but he targeted weapons at the ships on their tail.

  Moving out of formation, the three ships zipped forward so that his own would be caught between them. Particle beam fire left his ship, targeting the one closest. Now they weren’t moving as erratically, he cheered when it clipped the assault ship, spinning it off course. His elation was short-lived when it corrected the spin, resuming its pursuit.

  “Determined little mutt,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  They were firing simultaneously and he felt each laser hit his ship. Piece by piece, they were going to take them apart. They would need to evacuate and be left drifting in space hoping for a pick up. In his two hundred years of combat, he couldn’t think of a more embarrassing way to die.

  His ship jolted sharply again, narrowly avoiding the continuous fire. It was then that he saw six Scorpions heading towards him. Each was firing past them, targeting the three ships circling them.

  “About time. What took you so long?”

  “Maybe you haven’t heard, but there’s a war going on.”

  Recognizing the voice, he laughed. “Four-Two, good to hear from you. Deal with these guys, will ya? I need to get back to the battlefield.”

  “Not without a Pretorian Guard you won’t.”

  Passing between the six Scorpions, he saw what he meant. Five more Scorpions fell into formation around his own.

  “Bom One-oh-One by your side. Seriously, Tank, you went head on into a war zone without a Battle Command Guard.

  “I’ve never heard of a Battle Command Guard.”

  Through his headset, he heard laughter. “It’s a whole new thing for a whole new battlefield.”

  As he returned to the warring fleets, he supposed they had a lot to learn about space war.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

  Can Only Be One

  (Dunk Three)

  Dragging himself from a deep sleep, he reached for the gun he now kept by the side of his bed. Mariana was curled into a fetal position, apparently sleeping through the chatter of gunfire coming from all directions. The sound was muted, but distinct. Tugging on a tunic, he tucked the gun into the back of his pants, pulling his long top over it.

  Walking outside of his living quarters, he ran into Dunk Two pouring a cup of coffee. “What’s going on out there?”

  “Renegades. I wouldn’t have got up for it, but…”

  Dunk Two didn’t bother finishing his sentence, so he did it for him. “You don’t sleep much anyway.”

  Like his clone, until he’d met Mariana, he was lucky to get more than four hours sleep a night. Ark Three had always complained he was keeping him awake, finally using it as an excuse to move into his own room. He hadn’t liked being left to sleep alone, further disrupting his already poor sleep patterns.

  “What are they doing?”

  Yawning widely and not bothering to cover his mouth, Dunk Two slouched in the office chair behind his desk. “I think they’re staging a coup.”

  “And you don’t care about that?”

  “Seriously? We have thousands of navs here and they have about fifty shooters with old weapons.”

  “They must be desperate.”

  “And so they should be. They’re all going to die.”

  “Maybe you should listen to what people are trying to tell you.”

  Dunk Two was sipping his coffee, only now he looked at him over the rim of the cup as if he’d gone nuts. “The will of the people?” Putting down the cup, he grimaced. “I give them what they need and that’s safety. Why don’t you understand that?”

  “Only for some, not for all.”

  “Not everyone can be a winner.”

  His head was clearer than it ever had been before. Perhaps it was thanks to Mariana’s abilities or just a better night’s sleep, he didn’t really know. “We can’t continue this way. You might be cleansing the DNA bloodline, but you’re cultivating enemies. Eventually you’ll have so many no army will save us.”

  “Don’t be such a bleeding heart. The smart always survive.”

  “Do you think this is making us stronger?”

  “How are we weak?”

  All around them was the staccato rhythm of continuous fire. To him every bullet was a warning, a threat of what was to come.

  Waving his hands at the window, he said, “This. This isn’t right. You’re cornering people so badly the only choice they have left is how they’ll die.”

  Dunk Two lo
oked nonplussed at his passionate declaration. “They’re kind of right. They are going to die for the good of Earth.”

  He shook his head. “I want this to stop.”

  “It’s going to.”

  Eyeing Dunk Two warily, he didn’t like the quiet confidence he was displaying. “When?” Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Why will it stop?”

  Giving him a sly smile, Dunk Two winked at him. “Casey did a deal with that Neanderthal Tank.”

  “To do what?”

  “Your beloved Ark is on his way here now.” Moving his fingers as if they were tiptoeing across the air, he smiled. “Ark thinks he’s being snuck into CaliTech to negotiate with me. His deck ape, Tank, is busy squabbling on our perimeter. He thinks he can make it to Earth.”

  Whatever calmness Mariana brought to him was completely lost. Unable to stop himself, he rose to his feet. “And he just might. Then we’ll both be dead!”

  Dunk Two harrumphed as if he was being stupid. “The Boms follow Ark, but if he’s dead then who will they follow?”

  “Tank?”

  “No, he doesn’t want the job. Casey already sounded him out about that. No, they’ll follow her because they were all navs first. Tank’s just bringing the army home.”

  The full impact of Dunk Two’s plan was sinking in, raising his anxiety to levels he’d never felt before. “So, you set this up. You told Casey to bring Ark here so you can kill him.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I won’t let you do this.”

  Now Dunk Two leaned into his desk, staring at him coldly. “What are you going to do? Kill me? I am you so you’d be killing yourself.”

  The whole purpose of his existence was to enforce Dunk’s rules, keeping mankind safe from enemies. If he killed Dunk Two for being ruthlessly devoted to maintaining their species, he would have to die with him. Just as the first Ark had forced Dunk’s hand, Ark Three was forcing his. It always came down to the same decision. Their views were so diametrically opposed that one of them would have to die.

  Feeling stunned, he sat back in his chair, vaguely listening to the gunfire echoing from the grounds around the main building.