Sacrifice of Angels

by Trevor Wyatt

  “Hey,” Tira said back to the ensign. Even though they were clearly on the same rank, by virtue of her assignment as the captain’s personal assistant, Tira was higher in rank than Adewale. Tira’s specialty was in communications, and if Jeryl hadn’t picked her up from the ensign pool in the lower decks of the Seeker, Adewale would have outranked her.

  Tira remembered how Captain Montgomery picked her. She had taken a break from laughing with her friends during one of her day offs and had gone to the simulation room to practice. She made sure she went to the simulation room at a time when most of the crew were either asleep or busy as she usually did.

  She picked a battle simulation where they were in a barren world and she was one of the Marines at the forefront. The simulation called for guts, clear thinking, and a clear head. It stretched for close to two hours before the Marines broke through and had the enemy on the run.

  This was the simulation Tira ran through every time. It kept her sharp and focused. Plus, it was the only time she could use her true abilities without anyone asking her critical questions about where she had learned them. Those were questions better left unanswered.

  On that particular night, after she had survived two grueling and harrowing hours of rapid automated fire, screams of pain, blood, and gore, she powered down the simulation only to find Jeryl standing at the doorway of the simulation room.

  It was so much of a shock to her that her first instinct was to hit the man. But because of the relaxed way he looked at her, she was able to control her hands. He stood there, not as the captain, but as a fellow crew member. He was wearing a button down shirt and a pair of pants. And he had a smile on his face.

  “Captain,” Tira had said, snapping to attention.

  Jeryl had waved the salute. “Please. Call me Jeryl.”

  Of course, Tira had declined. It was professional suicide to accede such a request, even though it was kindly made. To avoid being asked to call him by his name again, Tira had decided to call him ‘sir’ the rest of the way.

  “That was good,” he observed.

  Good? Tira thought. Just good? I’m pretty sure I’m a badass.

  But she didn’t dare spit such words. She only politely nodded and said, “Thank you, sir.”

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” Jeryl had asked.

  “At the Academy, sir,” Tira lied. “I learned to fight at the Terran Armada Academy back on Earth.”

  “I see,” he replied. “I didn’t know the Academy has strengthened its field combat program.”

  Tira smiled. “No, they haven’t, sir. I did a small stint at the Marines complex in the Academy.”

  “A double major?” Jeryl asked. “I don’t think I saw it in your records.”

  “You read my records?” Tira said.

  “Of course, I did,” Jeryl had replied. “I read the records of everyone who’s assigned to my ship.”

  Tira smirked. “You don’t remember then all, do you?”

  Jeryl shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

  “Well, sir, if it helps, it wasn’t a double major,” Tira said. “It was really unofficial. In my spare time, I went over to the Marines complex and learned how to fight like a marine.”

  “You’re really good,” Jeryl had repeated, his eyes staring directly at her.

  “How long were you watching me, sir?” Tira asked.

  “The whole thing,” he replied. “I was nearby when I noticed you walking into the simulation room. I thought I’d come and say hi and see what’s happening in the Simudeck. You were already fighting when I came in. I was impressed by it, and ended up staying.”

  Tira blushed then. She felt proud of herself.

  Then, he had asked her what she was doing in the crew. She told him she was the ensign in charge of communications between departments. It was almost the lowest of the lows.

  “Would you like to come work with me on the CNC?” he asked.

  At first, she thought Jeryl was joking. She tried laughing it off until she saw the serious look on his face.

  “I’m serious, Tira,” Jeryl said. “I could use skills like yours on the CNC. You can be my personal assistant.”

  “That would be an honor, sir,” Tira said. It was both a good promotion for her career and for her mission.

  Tira broke off from her reverie when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She gasped softly, her eyes focusing on the doors into the cargo bay. She remembered where she was and what was happening.

  Adewale said, “You kind of zoned out there.”

  “I did?” Tira said.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I was asking you what you think Lieutenant Commander Vu had separated from the away team for.”

  Tira flanked at the guy. “Seriously, Adewale?”

  His eyes widened. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”

  “What other reason is there?” she asked. “He’s the science officer. If he was alive, he should be the one leading with that device they had, not the Sonali. He must have died somewhere along the line.” She shook her head and sighed. “This is heartbreaking. But…we can’t let it affect us right now. We have to focus on the plan of getting out of here.”

  Tira turned to address the crew. “Are we ready?”

  They all nodded. Most of their faces were grim. Tira knew she had to talk them up, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to withstand the onslaught that was coming. She had to motivate them; sadly, motivation was not one of her strongest suits.

  A good leader should be a great motivator. This was something she had hoped to learn as she climbed her way to greatness. She certainly hadn’t envisioned herself leading the entire crew of the Seeker to battle.

  “Look, we may not all make it out of here alive,” Tira said, which she later realized wasn’t a good thing to start off with her motivating speech. “But if we fight together as one, willing to give up everything, some of us can make it back to safety and tell the whole galaxy what braveness was in display today.”

  Their faces began to look brighter. Tira could feel the surge of hope. She was about to continue, when she heard the doors opening behind her.

  Tira turned, pistol coming up.

  Five. They were five, and they weren’t ready for what hit them. Tira got off two rounds—direct hits to the skulls. The ensign with the rifle shredded the bodies of the three remaining guards. They all collapsed to the ground, dead, the doorway sliding back shut.

  “Take everything that can hurt the Tyreesians from those guards and let’s take this station,” Tira said.

  She was pleased when they responded with a resounding roar.

  Chapter 15

  Veld held a thin insertion tool to Ashley’s neck. He turned to Jeryl with a wicked grin.

  “Just remember, this is all your fault.”

  “Don’t do it,” Jeryl muttered, his strength gone and his heart failing him. “Don’t do it.”

  Veld jammed it into Ashley’s neck, spilling out bright red blood immediately.

  Ashley screamed for the umpteenth time. This time, her voice hung in the air, filling Jeryl’s heart with anger. Veld plunged the knife’s handle into her hand, cracking some bones in the process.

  The guards were in the room, looking at Veld with lustful happiness. Jeryl tried his best to break out of his bonds, including jumping up against the floor and slamming into the ground, but the shackles were so strong that all he succeeded in doing was hurting himself. The guards just came, brought him back up, set him down, and returned to their position.

  Veld had been torturing Ashley for the past thirty minutes. She had fallen unconscious several times, but each time, Veld would bring her back to consciousness in the most gruesome ways. One time, he used a taser-like device to wake her up. The next time, he injected her with a painful substance that brought her back to the harsh reality of torture.

  Ashley had been stripped down to her bra. Every inch of her skin was covered in blood. Her face was marred with blood, and her eyes were hidden behind
swollen tissues. She was barely breathing and Jeryl was sure her lungs would collapse if the madness didn’t stop soon enough.

  Veld himself was sweating, doing his best to inflict pain on Ashley. He ran a blade over her skin, cutting her deep; soon, Ashley was screaming at the top of her lungs and then spitting blood.

  Then, Veld cut her pants off.

  Ashley, Jeryl’s wife and best friend, was stripped down to her underwear and clothed with a thick layer of fresh blood. Veld showed no signs of abating. He wasn’t going to take a break; he wanted to get Jeryl to make that broadcast, whatever the cost.

  Jeryl cried where he sat, and Ashley barely looked at him the whole time. He felt her scorn. He felt her rage, her bitterness. He hoped neither of these emotions were directed at him. He told himself several times that Ashley would understand why he had to resist.

  He managed to convince himself that Ashley knew that, as Armada officers, there was a certain amount of risk they had to take to protect the Armada from external harm. Also, there was a certain amount of sacrifice that went with having a high office in the force. She was a first officer, he was a captain. Yes, they were married, but they also had a duty to the Terran Armada. They had a duty to the Terran Union.

  It didn’t matter what anyone did to them. It didn’t matter what threat they were facing. They couldn’t break under pressure. They couldn’t yield to interrogation. They just couldn’t. They were Armada senior officers.

  They were loyal.

  Several times, Jeryl had to build the case in his mind, more for himself than for Ashley. Yet, every time her screams filled his ears and the room, the castle of reason and logic he had built in his mind would fall to the strong winds of passion and emotion. How could he watch another creature desecrate his wife? How could he sit idly while that fucking bastard made her bleed?

  This was no longer about officers of the Armada. This was about a husband’s duty to love and protect his wife. He swore an oath to keep her safe. Yet, when he swore that oath, he never suspected that he would have to choose between saving his wife and saving the Union. He never envisioned ever being captured by the Tyreesians and having his wife being tortured to get him to do something that could badly affect the entire Galaxy.

  A lot of times, he wondered if he should just give in. Ashley had already suffered enough. All the things that were done to her so far could be repaired—Terran medical science had advanced faster than expected after the advent of the Galactic Council and the technology sharing that followed between various races. Ashley would live—but...could he fix her heart?

  Jeryl knew that there was only so much strain a relationship could take. He knew that, while he expected Ashley to understand that he was doing what was best for both of them and the Armada, he also hated that he had to watch her suffer the way she was suffering now. There was little he could do. Still, he knew that, while she might understand, she might never forgive him.

  Jeryl hoped she’d understand. He just wanted to prevent an all-out interstellar war from breaking out again.

  Once the other species from the Galactic Council saw that the Tyreesians had attacked one of their allies— and tortured and hurt Jeryl, the father of the Galactic Council -who was the one who brought them all together - they would be knocking on the Tyreesian’s doors with a war machine.

  Surely, Ashley wouldn’t want that. Jeryl knew she wouldn’t want that. He knew she would support his decision to keep mum while Veld tortured her to make him break.

  After all, she had worked in Armada Intelligence before. She was well able to endure torture—at least she should.

  Jeryl had mixed feelings about the Terran Armada and the use of Armada Intelligence. The standard belief amongst officers within the Armada was that Armada Intelligence was an oxymoron. They very rarely operated with any intelligent thought whatsoever. But Jeryl had seen several of their operatives in action since once chuckling over that statement with his mentor, Admiral Flynn, to know that Armada Intelligence was far from bumbling. If anything, they were a force that was more dangerous than anyone realized.

  Jeryl knew Ashley would understand. He hoped she would understand.

  Veld stood to his feet as Ashley passed out again. He walked over to Jeryl and knelt down in front of him.

  Jeryl head-butted him, sending the Tyreesian to the ground. The guards approached him and Jeryl sprang into action. He shot into the air and slammed his body onto the nearest guard’s abdomen. The guard doubled back. Before Jeryl could proceed any further, a pulse of air caught him in his mid-section and slammed him against a wall.

  He threw up all the contents of his stomach and lay dazed on the ground for a second. He watched through blurred eyes as the guard he downed ran to him and plowed his booted feet into his stomach. He flipped on his other side and retched.

  “Leave him!” Veld ordered. “Set him straight.”

  Jeryl was still tethering on the verge of unconsciousness when he felt hands grabbed him and hefted the chair he was bound to. He felt like his entire innards would fall right out of him. He held himself as much as he could, his head swaying from one point to another.

  This was the first time he was hit by such a weapon, and he didn’t want to experience it ever again. He would prefer Sonali laser weapons or Terran bullets to whatever the Tyreesians invented.

  Veld was wiping blood off his lips. It was a very thick blue substance.

  “So, you bleed?” Jeryl muttered, his voice hoarse from all his furious screaming. “Good. All you’ve done to her, I’ll do to you over and over again.”

  Veld smiled. It was a smile that set a storm of anger ablaze in Jeryl’s innermost being.

  “You seem to think you are somehow getting out of this cell,” Veld said. “News flash, Jeryl. There is no escaping the Tyreesians. I bet you thought we had forgotten what you did to our ship in the Omarian system? I bet you forgot how you humiliated us? Well, we have not forgotten. This is just the beginning. This thing we have going here is just a part of a much bigger plan. A plan to return the Tyreesian Collective to the forefront of the galaxy!”

  The Tyreesians were an old race. They had been spacefaring much earlier than many other present day civilizations. At one point, their dominion had spread across many of the non-aligned races in the galaxy and they had maintained a very Tyreesian-centric empire. In fact, one of the main considerations against joining any sort of Galactic Council that many lesser races had held was that it had the potential to become something similar to what the Tyreesians had built.

  However, the empire based on tyranny had crumbled due to its own weight. Roughly three hundred years prior, a series of civil wars and corruption had led to the gradual shrinking of the Tyreesian spheres of influence to a much smaller region of space. Many races had struggled and won their freedom and the Tyreesians had acceded to their requests – while never forgetting their former glory.

  Veld came nearer and knelt down in front of Jeryl. He kept his distance this time. “You think we’re just going to have a heart-to-heart talk here? Well, Captain Montgomery…we can’t allow your wonderful wife here to have all the fun, can we? Once I kill her, I will begin with you. And even if you do not succumb, I will kill you and we will just go ahead with our plan…”

  Veld put his hands on his waist and tapped his foot.

  “Or no,” he continued, “I will not kill you. We will just take you to Tyrone and put you in a cell, where you will have unrestricted front line view of how we dismantle the Galactic Council and the Terran Union.”

  “Fuck you,” Jeryl spat. “Someone will stop you. If it isn’t me, it’ll be No One. If it isn’t No One, it’ll be Coma and the Marines of Division 51. And if they fail, the Reznakian Shaniro Society will come for you. You can’t win. You can’t.”

  Veld rose up to his feet and shrugged. “Maybe. But I can watch as one of the guards fornicates with your wife.”

  Jeryl’s heart stopped at that moment.

  Veld pointed at one of the gua
rds and barked, “Strip her naked and take your time with her. I want her husband to watch.”

  At that point, Ashley came to. She glanced at Jeryl.

  “Jeryl…”

  The guard was surprised by the command at first. He glanced at Jeryl, saw his fear and smiled. Then, he began to strip off Ashley’s underwear.

  Jeryl knew he couldn’t take that. He couldn’t watch that. He couldn’t let that happen. It would drive him insane. He knew he couldn’t let Veld proceed with that course of action.

  Captain Jeryl Montgomery yielded in his heart. He was about to vocalize his agreement to Veld’s terms, when the door into the cell burst open.

  Tira and Adachi came in, guns blazing.

  Chapter 16

  Mahesh and Adachi followed Sef to the main passageway that led from the inter-quadrant airlock into the third quadrant of the secret space station, which was where Jeryl and the officers were being held.

  The firefights had already begun. As they were crawling through the shafts, they could hear the screams and yells. They could hear the guards marching to the holding facility to stamp out the resistance.

  Mahesh willed for Sef to move faster. He didn’t want Tira and the main crew to be overwhelmed. They had to draw some of that power to get the Tyreesians fighting on two fronts.

  By the time they got to the panel that would drop them onto the main passageway, they found that it was a ceiling panel and that from there, it was almost a five-yard drop. Sef could see three guards standing vigilantly by the airlock.

  “Three guards there,” Sef said.

  Adachi, who was behind Mahesh, tapped the Sonali’s shoulder.

  “Can you handle them?”

  “I am not sure I can take them all,” Sef said. “I can probably take the first two. But I will need someone else to take the third, and I am not so sure the good doc can be that person.”

  “Alright,” Adachi said. “Move ahead. I’ll take them.”