by Trevor Wyatt
Veld let out a burst of laughter. “Yes! The schtika is dead! Yes, father! Kill them!”
Jeryl’s manners, morality, and mild mien jumped out the window.
On the view screen, Leader Greer appeared, looking dangerously furious.
“Have you seen what I am capable of?” he said. He looked larger in the big view screen.
Jeryl was having a hard time keeping his breathing down and fighting the murderous thoughts that were having a field day in his mind.
“Surrender now or face the same eventuality,” Leader Greer boomed. “And that is not a request.”
“Father, great job killing off that stupid woman,” Veld said. “I mean, I was going to do it eventually. But, you know, Jeryl can be a hard nut to crack. Thank you for finishing her off. Her death is the best thing that has…"
Jeryl roared out of rage and grabbed the Tyreesian from behind, slamming him onto the ground. He then descended over the Tyreesian as he began to beg for his life, and landed his rock-solid fist smack on his nose.
Veld cried out in pain. What followed was Greer’s scream for Jeryl to get off his son.
Jeryl’s self-restraint wasn’t there anymore. He was controlled by the demon of rage, and before him flashed images of Veld torturing Ashley, and Leader Greer ordering her destruction.
Jeryl slammed his fists into Veld’s face over and over again. He felt Veld’s bones smash and crack under his fist. Despite the pain shooting through his fists and even though his fingers started to hurt, it somehow made him feel so good to damage the Tyreesian’s face.
Veld’s struggle became weaker and weaker. His face was disfigured beyond recognition. It turned into a marshy mixture of scattered bones, tissue, and Tyreesian goo. But Jeryl still went on and on, while Greer kept screaming and screaming for him to desist.
Someone called him, but he didn’t answer. Jeryl just kept on smashing fist after fist into the limp Tyreesian’s face.
“JERYL!” boomed the voice in his head.
He broke out of his rage and looked up to see Tira before him, her face moist with tears.
“Stop it. He’s dead.”
His eyes widened on her proclamation. He looked down and saw Veld’s face in a terrifying sight. And indeed, the Tyreesian was dead. Jeryl looked up to see Leader Greer looking at his dead son with horror. He had watched the whole thing.
Jeryl shot to his feet and marched for the view screen. “Now you know…now you know how it feels like to watch the one you love tortured and killed.”
Greer’s eyes focused on Jeryl.
“Do not think that makes us even, human,” he replied, his voice emitting from his throat. “I will destroy you for what you have done. I will destroy your worlds and pillage your cities. I will make you suffer in ways you never conceived possible. And when you think it is about to end, you will realize that it has only just begun.”
Jeryl kept up the hardened look he had for Greer. “I feel exactly the same way about you, Greer. The Tyreesian tyranny ends now. We’re coming for you and we’re bringing everything with us.”
The feed went dead and the first set of torpedoes, the ones Ashley fired before the Tyreesian station’s beta quadrant was destroyed, struck home.
Chapter 29
The missiles rammed into the Tyreesian ships, lighting them up like fireworks. Jeryl watched as his ship burst through the shower of debris and incinerating hulls of the survivors, smacking into solid mass here and there. There were other explosions around them, but they were currently flying blind. Missiles and other defensive measures were let loose by the warships ahead, causing more confusion.
The ship rocked hard, sending everyone flying in all directions. Captain Jeryl Montgomery was sent backwards. He tripped over Veld’s dead body and slammed into the captain’s chair, his head hitting it so hard he fell into unconsciousness.
* * *
“This is so wrong,” Ashley chuckled, laying her glass on the small table next to the bed. The skyline of New Sydney gleamed in the morning. She tiptoed her way and climbed on top of the bed, her lips looking for Jeryl’s. Smiling, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him.
“And still,” he whispered, “it feels so right.”
“I know. It really does,” she replied softly, pressing her half-naked body against his. She closed her eyes, surrendering to his embrace and to desire. Jeryl did the same, allowing everything he felt toward Ashley to take over him.
He had wanted her for so long, he had loved her for so long…
They were at The Oath, hidden from the world in Jeryl’s hotel room. That was their first time together, and it just felt…right.
“Ashley,” Jeryl whispered again, pulling back from her kiss to look into her eyes. He was about to continue speaking when he noticed her eyes turn dark. Then, her body slowly started to turn into ashes, and Jeryl found himself alone in the hotel room. Outside the hotel room, he heard shots being fired—loud ones, like those coming from a thousand space ships going at it in orbit.
Stumbling out of the bed, he made his way toward the window and watched as the Seeker went down in flames, Tyreesian ships attacking it from all sides.
“Having fun, Jeryl?” He heard a voice inside his head, and he immediately knew to whom it belonged—Greer.
“Enjoying this dance?”
Then, Greer’s voice turned into laughter, and Jeryl sunk down onto his knees.
He had lost it all.
Ashley.
The Seeker.
Jeryl Montgomery was a dead man walking.
* * *
Jeryl gasped aloud, coming up to a sitting position. Tira and Mary stood by his side, while Mahesh had some of his implements spread around him.
Jeryl, still heaving, turned to Mahesh.
“What happened?” he cracked.
“Captain, you passed out,” he replied. “You hit your head against the chair and lost consciousness. You were out for a few minutes.”
Jeryl felt for the base of his head, where he’d struck the chair. He couldn’t feel any pain. Slowly, he climbed up to his feet. On the view screen, he saw that they were just making it out of the range of Tyreesian warships. Some ships were laying pursuit, but the FTL mines had activated and they could only use their thrusters.
“Thanks, Doc,” Jeryl said, the images from his ‘dream’ still dancing inside his head.
“Don’t thank me, sir,” Mahesh said, a look of concern on his face.
“What’s our status?” Jeryl asked, ignoring the way Mahesh was looking at him.
“We’re ready to jump to FTL and get out of here, sir,” Mary replied, returning to her station. Tira returned back to her station as well.
“We better jump, sir,” Tira said. “Our shields are at ten percent and failing. We’ve lost life support in several decks. Structural integrity is failing as well, sir, but we can survive the FTL jump to Terran Union space. Our weapons systems are offline. We can’t defend ourselves if we’re attacked.”
Jeryl was about to give the order to jump when another ship dropped out of FTL space. As soon as Jeryl saw the size and shape of the vessel, he remembered where he’d last seen this kind of ship—at the Omarian star system.
This was the Tyreesian Navy.
“Evasive maneuvers,” Jeryl said.
Before anyone could act, the ship fired at them. It was one shot—just one—yet, almost all of the systems failed at the same time.
“Shields are gone,” Tira yelled above the chaos on the CNC. “Decks three, five, and seven have been breached. Everyone on these decks have been flushed out into space, sir.”
“How many?” Jeryl screamed.
“Twenty-three sir,” she replied.
“What weapons do we have?” Jeryl asked.
“None, sir,” Mary replied. Then she looked up to see the Tyreesian vessel turning to come for another run. “We’re a sitting duck, sir.”
“Are the FTL drives still working?” Jeryl asked.
�
�Yes,” Mary replied. “Engineering needs a few minutes to recalibrate the drive. The explosion displaced the central core.”
“By that time, we’ll already be dead,” Tira said. “We have no weapons.”
“That isn’t exactly true,” Mahesh said. “Captain, I believe this is the ship that disabled the Sonali vessel that started this whole thing.”
“That’s true,” Jeryl said. “Can we use the weapon on them?”
Tira had already started working on that. She said, “I’ve located the weapon, sir. It’s some sort of EMP-based device that runs on a separate system than the main weapons. I’ll need some time to figure out how to make it work.”
“We don’t have time,” Jeryl said. He looked up to see the Tyreesian naval warship beginning its final run.
“They’re charging their main weapon,” Mary announced. “They’re thirty percent ready.”
“Execute evasive maneuvers,” Jeryl commanded.
“Negative, sir,” replied the navigator. “Engineering has asked to remain on course. Evasive maneuvers will shatter the core and we’ll never be able to jump into FTL. They don’t have the time to fix the core’s mechanical stabilizers.”
“So, we’re truly a sitting duck.”
“Eighty percent ready,” Mary announced.
“Tira…” Jeryl called.
“I have it online, sir,” Tira said. “I’m trying to…”
There was a sharp screech.
An electric streak ran across the sky and struck the warship square in the center. Instantly, the ship went dark, all its light vanishing.
“I record a major critical fail of the ship’s systems, sir,” Adewale said. “Their life support, weapons, navigations, engineering, power…” And he went on to list all the systems one would expect in a star ship.
The massive Tyreesian naval warship floated dead in space before them.
“Sir, we’re set to jump into FTL,” the navigations officer muttered.
Jeryl heaved a deep sigh.
“Take us home.”
Chapter 30
“Please take a seat, sir,” said the pretty, young ensign, leading Jeryl to one of the many seats that lined the waiting room.
“The Admiral will be with you shortly,” she said and disappeared behind the red door.
Jeryl took his seat right next to the door. The room was large and well-decorated. It was circular but rugged with a red Persian rug and painted in subdued colors. Jeryl felt cold, even though it was midday in Vancouver.
There was no one else in the room besides him. Not many captains had the privilege of being summoned to the office of the Commander-In-Chief of the Terran Armada.
That was the sign that Jeryl was in deep trouble.
Seven days ago, he and what remained of his crew piloted the Tyreesian warship into range Edoris Station. The crew was transferred to another waiting ship, and they were to be taken to Loris II for their much-deserved shore leave, counseling, and possible reassignment. The Seeker was no more, and it was unclear if the Armada wanted to christen any new ship with a name that carried so much pain and suffering.
Jeryl was expecting a lot of upbraiding from Admiral Gan the moment he showed up on the Edoris outer sensor grid. Instead, Jeryl was ordered to get his mission after action reports ready and send it to Armada Command. Then he was debriefed via slipstream for over two days by Armada Intelligence. Surprisingly, Admiral Gan only told him that he was to report to the Terran Armada HQ on Earth that day by noon.
Jeryl arrived on Earth in the early hours of the day. He donned his dress uniform and made his way to the offices of James Watson, the current Commander-In-Chief of the Terran Armada. Admiral James Watson had achieved his position in the third year of the Earth-Sonali War, when humanity began to take a more military footing on par with other alien races. He was a tough man. Known to be fair, but still tough.
Jeryl expected the worst. His crew had already been reassigned, although they were all granted a two-month leave of absence before reporting to their new posting. Every now and then, he would get a condolence message from former crew members and friends. The news of his capture and daring escape had spread far and wide through the Terran Union and beyond.
The Tyreesians had issued an official stance on the matter. Their statement said that while entering their territory was tantamount to war, since they didn’t know of the incursions nor were they involved in the ensuing hostilities that followed due to the majority of the forces declaring allegiance to Greer al-Char, they were willing to look the other way. However, the next time such an event occurred with a Terran Armada vessel or a vessel from any member race of the Galactic Council, they would strike back with ferocity.
Every night, Jeryl would have nightmares. He would dream about his time aboard the Tyreesian space station. He would dream about killing Veld and Veld torturing Ashley. He would dream about the explosion. He could never sleep without dreaming. And every time he dreamt, it would all be about his harrowing experience behind enemy lines.
“Sir?” said a voice in front of him.
Jeryl flinched as he came out of his reverie. He glanced between the ensign and the open door. He hadn’t even realized when she opened the door.
“The Admiral will see you now,” she said, motioning for him to follow her.
Jeryl rose to his feet, straightened his full ceremonial wear, and stepped through the door. He came into a small secretary’s office with a desk at the corner.
The lady retreated behind her desk, gesticulating for him to proceed through the second red door.
Jeryl heaved a sigh. He opened the door, and stepped through.
The office was moderately big. It was on the topmost floor of the Armada complex in Vancouver and had a sky-like view of the stunning river that ran across its side.
The Admiral was standing with his back to the door. He was staring out the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the skyline beyond the river.
The floor was rugged, and there was a medium-sized table right in the middle of the office and a lot of space around. To the left was a shelf well-stocked with books, while another shelf adjacent to it was stacked with laurels.
Jeryl was about to announce his presence, when the Admiral began talking.
“Sometimes I ask myself why I joined the Armada,” he said. “Why journey across the stars when I can live a fulfilling life here on Earth? Why go to other worlds and survive the harshness of space, when love and warmth are mine down here?”
There was silence. Not knowing what to make of the Admiral’s speech, Jeryl didn’t reply.
“Do you ever ask yourself that question, Jeryl Montgomery?” asked the Admiral, turning to face him.
The Commander-In-Chief of the Terran Armada was a short man with a badly scarred face. He had fiery red eyes and burn marks on his skin. No one knew how he obtained such bad injuries.
“I can’t say that I have, sir,” Jeryl replied.
“Well, that may be the reason why you’re going up and down, causing troubles for the Terran Union,” the Admiral noted.
“Maybe you ought to leave then,” he added.
Jeryl gasped softly. “The Armada has been my life, sir. I’ve given my time and my life for this. I’ve had everything taken from me, sir.”
The Admiral sat down on his seat. With a tired sigh, he scanned the brief Jeryl sent, as well as several after-action reports from his crew. Before the crew departed the Tyreesian warship, Jeryl gave them one last order as their captain. It was to tell the truth—the whole truth.
“You murdered a Tyreesian national right in front of all your crew members,” the commander asked.
Jeryl remained silent. He didn’t have a response for that.
“Nothing to say, Jeryl?”
“He deserved it, sir,” Jeryl muttered, anger simmering in his stomach. He had already made up his mind that he would never apologize for killing Veld.
The Admiral looked at him with amusement. “That’s your defense
? He deserved it?”
Jeryl frowned. He didn’t respond.
“Okay, it says here that Admiral Gan gave you a direct order, which you disobeyed,” he said. “Care to comment?”
Jeryl said, “I did what I thought was right.”
“And ended up killing most of your crew,” the Admiral said. “Your crew, who depended on you to lead them all, died because of your silly crusade.”
Jeryl remained silent. The hurt and anger from the last seven days were all coming back to burn his heart.
“Look, Jeryl, I like you a lot,” the Admiral said. “I like you. But you can’t do things like this and expect not to suffer some consequences. You’ve seen a lot and we owe you a debt. But there are some of my admirals who want you dishonorably discharged and put in prison.”
Jeryl didn’t respond. He knew this was the fitting punishment for what he did.
“But I don’t want to see you go like that,” the Admiral said. “You’re lucky you’re liked by most politicians. And Admiral Flynn still supports you, despite your many flaws. And you did bring back a valuable piece of Tyreesian technology, which will be very beneficial to the Armada…” his voice trailed off.
There it was—despite everything that had happened, the Armada top brass couldn’t help but be over joyous about the Tyreesian EMP gun. A weapon could kill any ship almost instantly? It was a dream come true for any military fleet.
“Are you letting me go?” Jeryl asked.
The Admiral smiled. “Not quite. Your command has been revoked as of this moment. You’ll retain your rank, of course, but you’ll be assigned to a fitting diplomatic position to the Kurta Colonies. Maybe three or four years of quietness there will cool you down.”
Jeryl nodded. He wasn’t going to fight this, because he knew he deserved worse.
“Do you have anything to say?” asked the commander.
“Will I ever get to command a starship again?” Jeryl asked.
The man said, “It’s highly unlikely. But maybe, just maybe, a time will come when the Armada will need men like you again. I personally don’t pray for such a time because I know death—countless deaths—will follow.”