by Trevor Wyatt
Kaine tightened his grip around Tira even more.
“Oh, no, no sweetheart, you don’t get to pass out on me yet. I need you breathing and choking so my little brother here will stay put,” he told Tira, as he smiled mischievously at Jeryl.
“Anyway, you, dear Jeryl, went about your business, becoming so famous and all. So famous that you buried my memories and moved on with your life. And, now you’re here, looking at me like you just found out your wife got pregnant by your ‘dead’ best friend instead of by you. Yeah, I know about Ashley, just like I know so many other things. But, with your little side project here, and how you haven’t hit this yet...and you looking like you want to break my face as well as bore me to death with idle threats, I say we stop talking and I’ll remind you why you were never able to last in our sparring sessions.”
Kaine threw Tira to the side, bouncing her against a nearby wall, and pointed his gun at Jeryl. He pulled the trigger, barely missing as Jeryl ducked.
Son of a bitch. Jeryl rushed toward Kaine, trying to tackle him.
Kaine sidestepped him easily and Jeryl’s head exploded in pain as Kaine’s elbow connected with his upper neck, knocking him to his knees. Fighting back waves of nausea, Jeryl tried to regain his feet, moving just enough to have one of Kaine's kicks glance off of his ribs, rolling him away.
“Oh, come on! Have you really gotten this bad at fighting?”
Jeryl gingerly got to his feet. Even though it was a glancing blow, he was finding it hard to breathe without pain. Without saying a word, he merely waved for Kaine to bring it. Kaine shrugged, and slowly approached.
Five seconds into this fight and I’m already getting my ass kicked. Great, Jeryl thought as he got into a fighting stance.
Jeryl feinted with his right, then kicked with his left, catching Kaine in the leg. As Kaine stepped back, Jeryl pushed his advantage with a right hook, catching Kaine in the jaw. Jeryl felt a slight twinge of pleasure as Kaine spat out blood, but the pleasure vanished quickly as The Ghost's captain started to laugh.
“Nice…you usually feint left, then come right. You went different this time. Either you’ve learned, or you’re processing again. Heh.” Kaine leaned against the table, folding his arms across his chest. “Do you know why I’ve taken over the Syndicate and gone after Union supplies? It’s more than just a revenge plan, you know? The Union has the best stuff and the Syndicate was the easiest way for me to get it all.” He rushed toward Jeryl, throwing jabs and hooks, forcing Jeryl back.
Jeryl put his arms in front of his face, letting his forearms absorb the blows, waiting for an opening. Then he kicked out, forcing Kaine to take a step back, and threw an open-handed punch, catching Kaine on the nose. Kaine let out a howl and grabbed his nose, stepping back. Jeryl tackled Kaine and wrestled him over onto his stomach, wrenching his arm behind his back.
“Give up!” Jeryl said as he pulled up on Kaine’s arm. “There is no way that—”
Kaine pushed up hard, flipping Jeryl over. He grabbed Jeryl’s leg and wrenched it sideways. Jeryl felt a tearing sensation in his knee and screamed.
“There’s no way—hold on a minute,” Kaine started to say.
Jeryl watched him rub his shoulder as he walked over to Tira, who was trying her best to stand. “She's a tough one, isn't she? I'm surprised she's still conscious.”
Kaine reached down, picking Tira up and helping her stand, then punched her once—twice—three times in the face before letting her fall.
“You know something, Jeryl?” he said, glancing back at his friend. Then, he kicked Tira in the stomach, making her scream and cough up blood. She curled up into a ball as he started kicking her more, emphasizing his words with each kick. “You. Were. Always. A. Chump.”
Something came over Jeryl—a rage he didn’t know he had.
Ignoring his knee, he let out a roar and charged at Kaine, catching him by surprise. His fists flew, catching Kaine in the shoulders, the arms, the chest, the torso, the head—anywhere Kaine wasn’t blocking. Then, just as he thought he was starting to win, Kaine caught him in the throat with a quick chop.
Jeryl reeled and choked—he never saw Kaine coming.
Kaine landed a devastating kick to Jeryl’s chest. He could feel a rib or two crack as the air whooshed from his lungs. Kaine then used a combination of several different kicks and strikes to push Jeryl against a wall, finally making him drop to his knees.
As Jeryl fell to his knees, Kaine spun around, bringing his right foot in a powerful arc that was aimed for Jeryl’s head. He brought his arm up to block, but he was too slow. His hand got in the way of the kick and he felt bones snap in his hand and wrist. Screaming in pain and frustration, Jeryl struggled to fend off Kaine as he grabbed his arm. Kaine put Jeryl into an arm bar and began pulling, trying to dislocate the shoulder.
Jeryl could feel the tendons stretch as the ball joint of the arm scraped against the socket of his shoulder.
Just as his shoulder was yanked out of socket with a sickeningly wet pop, the door burst open and his people rushed in. Moving fast, Kaine released Jeryl, rolled under the table and quickly tossed a smoke grenade.
Keeping his eyes open and fighting to stay conscious, Jeryl saw a rectangular burst of light on the other side of the room. Some of the smoke dissipated enough for Jeryl to see Kaine standing in an open doorway.
Kaine spread his arms out and smiled, tilting his head slightly.
Then he was gone.
Powers and one of the commandos were gently picking Tira up from the ground as the world began to grow dark. The last thing he saw was one of his people dropping down in front of him and his mouth moving, as if to ask if he was alright.
Jeryl tried to answer, but the darkness was too strong.
His eyes fluttered shut, the last thought on his mind being how his brother had become his enemy.
Chapter 20
Jeryl
“A broken left arm, three broken ribs, a cracked sternum, a bruised liver and a damaged kidney,” Dr. Mahesh Rigsang said, who was reading off the report from his medical tablet. He had a dismayed look on his face, glancing over at Jeryl as if to ask how one man could have that much problems.
“And one nasty headache,” Jeryl mumbled, half on the verge of losing consciousness.
Mahesh made a face. “Let’s not forget that.”
“On the whole, I’m fine,” Jeryl said, attempting to lighten the doctor’s foul mood. He knew Mahesh didn’t appreciate whenever Jeryl showed up to the sickbay so battered. It hadn’t happened in a while, though, but then now and again it happened.
Mahesh was of the opinion that Jeryl should know better than to get into a fight that he wasn’t going to win.
You’re a captain, not a fighter, he would say.
“This is serious, Jeryl,” Mahesh said.
Mahesh grabbed a vial from the tray beside him and inserted it into a hypodermic needle. He injected the content into Jeryl’s broken arm, making Jeryl wince in protest.
Mahesh had done most of the patching up, while the scanner analyzed Jeryl’s body. He was pretty sure of what was wrong the moment Jeryl limped into the sickbay; he just needed to be sure there wasn’t anything he had missed, like an internal bleeding. Those pesky little things could be silent killers.
“What was that?” Jeryl asked with suspicion. “I hope it’s not—”
“It’s not a sedative, if that’s what you’re worried about, Jeryl,” Mahesh said. “It’s a pain killer mixed with some other substances to speed up the wound and bone healing.”
Jeryl felt elated. He couldn’t see himself stuck in the sickbay, while Kaine was out there, wreaking havoc on the Union. He had to get back out there as soon as possible.
“Don’t look so happy,” Mahesh said, noting the look on Jeryl’s face. “I might not be ordering your left arm be put in a cast, but that doesn’t mean you can have full use of it today or even tomorrow.”
“I need to get back out there, doc,” Jeryl grumbled.
“There’s no time,” Jeryl mumbled, angry.
It was so goddamn upsetting to be disabled like this. Every time he tried to move his body—especially his left arm—it sent flames of pain everywhere. And to think Kaine had bested him, in spite of the firepower and commandos he’d had at his disposal.
Jeryl knew he would’ve been submerged in a sea of shame, if he wasn’t already burning in a hell of pain.
Mahesh eyed him one more time and ignored his comment. He turned his attention back to the tablet, which was actively connected to the bed upon which Jeryl laid in.
The bed was a fully automated equipment with an inbuilt scanner and vitals monitor. Three bots, which were its peripheries, hovered about, performing scans and updating the AI that monitored Jeryl’s situation.
I’m a sitting duck here, Jeryl thought. I’ve got to get back. Kaine could be anywhere!
Jeryl groaned under the overwhelming pressure of the pain. He forced his mind to tear through the veil of pain as he put his arms underneath his body and pushed upwards on the bed. Dots danced around in his eyes as he tried to get all the way up to a sitting position on the stretcher.
“You need to remain still, captain,” Mahesh said, putting a firm palm on Jeryl’s right shoulder and pressing him back down.
Jeryl succumbed to the pressure, but landed hard on the bed, his left arm slamming against the edge of the bed.
A sharp jolt of pain lanced through his entire left side. A scream erupted from Jeryl’s throat, though he had enough dignity to cut it off at his tongue. This didn’t prevent the darkness from exploding at the corners of his vision and roaming inwards until he was grabbed by the clutches of unconsciousness.
***
There was silence.
There was complete darkness all around, yet Jeryl was aware of his surroundings. He felt like a disembodied entity wandering a vast darkness. It was like space, except without the stars and the cold.
Suddenly, there was an explosion of pain in his chest, where his heart would’ve been—had he had a body.
Then, there were voices. Familiar voices. They were contending about an issue, but it was too distant for Jeryl to make sense of what was being said.
A split second later, their voices were as clear as a cloudless afternoon sky. The voices echoed though, yet this didn’t take away from the hurt and anger and pain and shock that pulsed through him like a steady stream of electricity through a high tension cable.
No, it can’t be.
Ah, but it is.
“Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends?”
“We were brothers…right until you left me for dead.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I want you to pay back for leaving me for dead!”
A sudden dread filled Jeryl’s entirety, leading him to let loose a shrill wail.
“Jeryl!” boomed a sharp voice in his mind.
***
Jeryl woke with a start. He jerked his head around, searching for Kaine, feeling the man’s essence hovering around him like a black cloud. There was no one there except Mahesh, who sat on a chair in the corner of the walled-off section, reading from his tab.
Mahesh looked at him with curiosity.
Jeryl swallowed hard, his shirt clinging to his cold, wet skin.
“How long have I been out?” he asked, rising to a sitting position. It didn’t hurt so badly now, though he could still feel aches pretty much all over his body. His left arm might not have been hurting as bad, but it sure as hell was still aflame, though dully.
“About three hours,” Mahesh replied. “You hit your arm pretty hard. The pain sent you under. Good thing, too.”
Jeryl threw a glare at him.
Mahesh stood his ground. “You were being an impossible patient. You needed the rest. While you were under, I had the time to redress your wounds and patch you up some more.”
Jeryl sighed aloud. He tried moving his left arm. He could feel pain like pinpricks erupt all over his arm. He immediately stopped lest he send himself under for another three hours.
Both men remained silent for a few moments.
Mahesh placed his tablet on a table next to his chair.
“Don’t you have other patients to attend to, doc?” Jeryl said before the doctor had the chance to speak.
“They’re all being attended to quite well, captain,” Mahesh replied. “What’s with Kaine, anyhow? You kept muttering his name while you were unconscious. I don’t know why his name sounds so familiar.” Mahesh looked to be deep in thought. “Didn’t you use to work with him or something?”
Jeryl knew he shouldn’t be divulging operational secrets to the doctor, but it was Mahesh, after all. What harm could he do? Perhaps, who was he going to tell? The nurse?
“We didn’t work together per se,” Jeryl corrected. “He was captain of the The Ghost during the Earth-Sonali War.”
Jeryl went on to explain the close relationship he had shared with Kaine. Memories danced in his mind like rotten shadows.
“He’s perhaps the only one who knows me in and out,” Jeryl ended saying. “He knows all my fears. He knows all my secrets. He knows everything about me.”
“If he’s dead, how is he attacking Armada convoys?” Mahesh asked.
“That’s what I’m still trying to believe,” Jeryl said. “I mean, I watched him die. I watched his ship go down.”
As Jeryl recalled the event of Kaine’s death, his hands began to tremble. In some distant part of his mind, he could hear the screams in the CNC as The Seeker went toe-to-toe with Sonali cruisers. He could hear himself bark out bearings to the navigations officer and commanding the tactical officer to fire. He could hear himself gasp as a terrible explosion rocked the ship. He could feel the cold silence that descended on the ship, when everyone realized that the explosion hadn’t been aboard The Seeker, but that The Ghost had burst into flames.
“Did you actually see his body, Jeryl?” Mahesh asked, bringing Jeryl’s mind to the present.
Jeryl glanced at his hands. They were still shaking terribly. He’d been traumatized for days after the event. Kaine had been like his counterweight. He had been like Jeryl’s anchor to the world of moral righteousness amidst the overwhelmingly insane world of war and senseless brutality—when they had to do what they had to do to survive the Sonali’s merciless onslaught.
“No,” he answered. “But his ship...it was falling apart. The fuselage was coming off, there were explosions all over it. Nobody could’ve survive that. Nobody.”
“Well, seems like Kaine did,” Mahesh said. “He’s alive and he kicked your ass. He commands one of the most powerful starships ever made by the Terran Armada, and he heads one of the most dangerous crime organizations in the galaxy.”
“Right,” Jeryl grumbled. “Like I don’t know that.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to defeat someone like him,” Jeryl thought out loud.
The room was momentarily filled with silence.
“Did you leave him for dead?” Mahesh suddenly asked, his dubious voice cutting through the silence like a careless butcher cuts through meat.
Jeryl looked away from Mahesh, blinking away the tears that were beginning to pool in his eyes. He glanced up at the immaculate, white ceiling as though to ward off the guilt that was now tightening his throat.
“Honestly, doc, I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s a question I’ve kept asking myself since the warehouse.”
Did I really abandon him?
Chapter 21
Flynn
Admiral Flynn marched down the halls of The Seeker en route to the sickbay. He had been told upon arrival that Jeryl was currently recuperating from his failed raid on one of the Syndicate’s warehouse.
“Kaine,” he hissed softly to himself. “This is madness.”
Things had gotten so hectic for Fly
nn and the Armada that he was talking to himself out of stress.
Soon, though, he would be able to talk to Jeryl. He had read the reports, but he needed to hear it from the captain himself. If what was reported was true, these were dark times for the galaxy.
Flynn entered the sickbay with purpose. He froze on his tracks the moment he saw Jeryl, his whole body bruised.
“My God,” he whispered.
He turned to Mahesh.
“How is he?”
“He’ll be fine once he mends. Nothing that time won’t heal,” the doctor replied.
The admiral looked back over at Jeryl. He certainly seemed worse for the wear, but Flynn knew how tough the captain was. He would try and get back on his feet as soon as possible.
The man won’t rest until this whole thing is over, Flynn thought.
“Can you give us a moment, Mahesh?”
“Absolutely, Admiral.”
The doctor exited the sickbay, but not before looking back at Jeryl over his shoulder one final time. As Flynn sat on a chair by the side of Jeryl’s bed, the captain forced his eyes open.
“Admiral…what brings you all the way down to The Seeker?” Jeryl asked, his voice frail.
“I didn’t want to talk over things over the slipstream. We can’t risk it right now. I mean, if we’re dealing with Kaine…we can’t be too careful,” Flynn replied.
The captain sat up, groaning every step of the way.
“Don’t strain yourself,” the admiral warned him.
Jeryl dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand, adding, “I’ll be fine. I’ve been in worse shape.”
“Maybe, but you’ve also never had to deal with somebody like Kaine,” Flynn countered.
