Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service

by Raymond L Jennings

  Crineal watched as the door slid open and Del’Tarim marched stiffly in to stand at attention in front of his desk and salute him. He returned the salute but didn’t invite the commander to sit.

  “At ease, Commander. I take it you’ve now studied the regulations as I suggested?” he asked.

  Del’Tarim fought to keep his expression blank. “Yes, Sir. I now understand that you were following the local regulations.” He paused for a moment and then forced out. “I apologize, Sir.”

  Crineal noted the careful phrasing of the words and the forced apology. “What was your previous posting, Commander?”

  “I was bay commander on Earth Orbital Three, Sir”

  Crineal nodded to himself. This idiot had been the one to screw things up and was why Hantos had been rotated down there. He was some noble’s son, so the local commander didn’t want to risk disciplining him and had transferred him here. Great. “Is this your first shipboard assignment?”

  “Yes, Sir, I look forward to helping improve the discipline amongst the bay crews here,” he stopped and flushed as he saw Crineal raise his eyebrows at him and he realized he’d just maligned both the previous officer, whoever he was, and the crew of the ship as well.

  “Shipboard routines will be somewhat different to what you’re used to, I suspect, Commander. It might be wise in future to make sure you understand all the regulations and why they are there. I’m sure that if you find you’re having any problems with them then either myself, Captain Aldar or Admiral Ken’Rathel will be happy to explain.” Crineal gave him a smile as if he was talking to a five year old child, and a not particularly bright child at that.

  Del’Tarim clenched his jaw muscles. How dare he? he thought angrily and ground out “Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir.”

  “All right, Commander, you’re dismissed.” Crineal waited for the salute and without giving one of his own he turned back to his reports. Del’Tarim spun on his heel and marched out of the office. Crineal was sure that if sliding doors could slam then his just had. What an idiot! Del’Tarim represented everything that he disliked about the Empire. The noble families were arrogant, corrupt, overflowing with entitlement, cruel and venal. There were a few that worked for the peoples of the empire but in most cases they were exactly like Del’Tarim or worse, if that were possible. Crineal wasn’t surprised that the rebellion had broken out and he would have perhaps supported it if the rebels had been looking to make things better. Unfortunately, they seemed to be even more corrupt and twisted than the nobility. So here he was trying to protect the average imperial citizen and having to put up with cretins like Del’Tarim. How did the universe get this screwed up?

  A few hours later, Crineal was sitting in the admiral’s office.

  “How are you feeling today, Crineal?” Ken’Rathel asked, as he sipped his kafe.

  Crineal grimaced into his tea. “Like I’ve just been through three hours of Colonel Jaynes’ hand-to-hand practice.” The colonel was the commanding officer of Annihilator’s Marine complement and took her troops’ fighting prowess very seriously. Her fitness workouts were legendary and, having watched them on a number of occasions, Crineal thought they might be a good punishment detail for the rowdier pilots.

  Ken’Rathel chuckled. “Well, you’ve got a little over three weeks of leave now, so take it easy and perhaps get some time planet side.”

  Crineal looked at him in surprise “Leave, Sir? But I’m covering the other squadron leaders’ absences.”

  The black-haired admiral stared at him. “Didn’t you hear me yesterday? I put all of Hera squadron on leave. The last time I looked that included you.”

  “But the leave rosters are already in place, Sir, and there’s nothing I need to do on planet. I don’t mind staying and covering. I’d really prefer to stay on board, Admiral.”

  Ken’Rathel put down his cup and sighed. “Why do you always have to be a hard case, Crineal?” he paused and thought for a second. “Alright, it probably would help if you stayed on. But next station you go ashore for the entire stopover. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Admiral, crystal.” He took another drink of tea.

  “I’ve reviewed the logs from yesterday. Your squadron’s bravery was exceptional. They are a credit to themselves and your leadership.”

  “Thank you, Sir; I’m very proud of them. No one flinched even though going in against those odds could have meant all of their deaths.”

  “I’m afraid that I’ve recalled the search teams. The survival suits of your missing pilots would have given out hours ago and the teams still hadn’t found any traces. I’m going to post them as lost. I’m sorry, Crineal.”

  Crineal bowed his head in sorrow for a moment, but he had expected the news. “I understand, Sir. Bannerman and Rochelle were good pilots. They’ll be sorely missed.”

  “I know, Crin, it’s never easy losing good people. On a happier note, medical tells me that the rest of your wounded are responding well. Even though the doctor notes he had to order a certain officer out of the bay.” He flashed Crineal an understanding smile. “Let me have your battle report by the end of the week, along with recommendations for awards.”

  “Will do, Sir.”

  “And how did your meeting go this morning?” Ken’Rathel asked with barely suppressed amusement.

  “Officially, Admiral, we managed to clear up the confusion that happened in the flight bay yesterday.”

  “And unofficially?” the admiral inquired with a smile in his tone.

  “He’s a total ass,” said Crineal bluntly.

  Ken’Rathel laughed. “Please don’t hide your feelings, General,” then his face became sober. “I might even agree with you but he is very well connected and even though the thought of transferring him somewhere ASAP might have occurred to me, it would be politically unwise to do so until he has been here a suitable length of time. You need to watch your step with him, Crineal. He may only be a commander, but he could still cause trouble for you.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m not without my own connections, though, and it might be harder than he thinks.”

  The admiral nodded. “I know and I’ll throw in what support I can but be careful.” Ken’Rathel paused and then said, “I think that wraps it up for today, General. I’ll page Doctor Marrash that you’re leaving my office so he can bolster med section’s defenses.”

  Crineal smiled at Ken’Rathel. “You know me too well, Sir.” He stood and placed his cup on the desk before saluting. “Thank you for the tea, Sir.”

  Ken’Rathel waved him away. “Go see to your pilots.” Crineal turned and started for the door. “And try and keep Lieutenants Perl, Staller and Muscovy under control. I’d hate to have to explain to Del’Herat how his son managed to fall out of an airlock.”

  As Crineal left the office he shook his head. He would love to know how Ken’Rathel came by his information. It could make a man paranoid.

  Crineal entered medical to find Major Strieger there as well. She was sitting and talking to 1st Lieutenant Sumomo. He waved at her to keep her seat and went to Lieutenant Feldea’s bed. She opened her eyes as he approached. Her left side was covered with a regeneration sheath; her right foot seemed to be similarly encased. He took the chair next to her bed. “How are you doing, Lieutenant?” he asked, smiling at her.

  “I’m ok, Sir. Mostly numb with this thing on me.” She gestured to the sheath with her chin.

  “Hmmm….yes, it’s hardly the most fashionable of bed wear, Fel.” He knew that off duty she considered herself highly fashion conscious.

  She gave a little giggle which made her seem very much like a teenager, at odds with the veteran pilot he knew her to be. “Doctor Marrash says it could be a month before I get out of here, Sir,” Feldea said somberly.

  “If it gets too bad I’ll arrange a roster for the squadron to come and pester him to release you.” She smiled at him weakly. “And the admiral gave everyone leave for the duration of our stopover here. Yours is being held back for when you’re fit
again. You’ll have a whole month to shop and sun yourself.”

  “That sounds great, Sir. Did the admiral also volunteer to pay for my credit tab to cover the shopping?”

  Crineal shook his head. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I don’t think the entire fleet’s budget would cover that large a bill. You’re on your own there. Anything I can get for you?”

  “Not at the moment, Sir. The techs here are doing a great job at making me comfortable.” He reached out and patted her right hand before standing. She gave his a squeeze in return. “Thank you for being here, Sir.”

  “You deserve it, Fel.” Crineal released her hand and joined Strieger to finish the round of visits.

  They left the ward together, neither speaking, both distressed by the injuries of their comrades. They found themselves in the observation room of one of the cargo bays, watching as various shuttles docked and unloaded before taking off again. Crineal was the first to speak.

  “The admiral suspended the search. Bannerman and Rochelle will be posted as lost in action.”

  Strieger bowed her head. “Damn.” After a few seconds she said, “I know they can’t still be alive, but…” Crineal nodded in sympathy with her.

  They stood there silently a little longer as one shuttle left the bay and another edged in.

  The major sighed. “Well, at least you’ll be getting leave now, Sir,” she waited a few seconds and, when Crineal didn’t reply, continued. “The admiral did say all of the squadron,” she pressed. The silence continued. She slapped her forehead. “You turned it down, didn’t you?” Crineal nodded.

  “Sometimes I don’t understand you at all, Sir,” she said in frustration. The shuttle in the bay below dropped its cargo ramp. “Please, Sir, come with me and show me some of the sights of Earth,” she was almost pleading with him now.

  He tried to defuse the situation with humor. “Is that an indecent proposition, Major?” he asked her with a small smile he didn’t really feel.

  She looked at him squarely. “If that’s what it takes, Sir, then yes. You need a break.” Strieger knew she was out of line but she didn’t want to see Crineal crack. From out of the shuttle two lines of men and women appeared wearing the short toga uniforms of recreation assistants. Even from the observation deck the two officers could see that the prisoners’ spirits had been broken. “If you don’t do something, Sir, you’ll end up as empty as them,” she said in a quiet but fierce tone, with a gesture to the scene in the bay. She was trying to not let her frustrations with her commander show to the nearby security station watch.

  Crineal stood looking down into the bay, his hands clasped behind his back. Just as Strieger opened her mouth to say something that would likely get her a court-martial, or at least a serious charge of improper conduct, the general leaned forward and stared hard at something. Strieger tried to follow his gaze to see what had caught his attention, but all there was were the lines of prisoners exiting the shuttle. Crineal straightened and strode over to the security console.

  The petty officer at the desk looked up uncertainly as Crineal approached and then stood to attention and saluted. “Sir, can I help you, General?”

  “Yes, Petty Officer, can I borrow your station for a moment?” he nodded towards the console.

  It wasn’t exactly within regulations, but this was a general asking, and Crineal at that. He decided on discretion being the better part of not being transferred somewhere really unpleasant. “Uh, yes, Sir, certainly, if you could make it quick so our scans aren’t interrupted?”

  “Thank you. I’ll only be a minute.” He sat down at the console and used the controls to turn a camera on the lines of prisoners. He found the spot in the line he was looking for and dialed up the zoom. He stared at the screen, trying to remember and then nodded to himself. It was her, he was sure of it. Crineal returned the display to normal and stood up. “Much appreciated, Petty Officer. A false alarm, though. Carry on.” He returned the petty officer’s salute and walked back to where Strieger waited for him.

  “Everything ok, Sir?” she asked worriedly.

  Crineal looked down at the bay where the prisoners were disappearing out of sight through the massive cargo doors. “Hmmm?” he said distractedly and then seemed to focus again. “Oh yes, it was nothing. Just thought I saw something odd.”

  Strieger looked unconvinced at the explanation but decided to leave it. “Ok, but just think about what I said, Sir. I’d rather not have to take command of the squadron because you’re locked up in a psych ward somewhere.”

  He stood for a moment and then nodded at her. “You’re right, Major. I do need something.” Strieger could hardly believe it. He was agreeing with her on this? “I know you’re only looking out for me and believe me, if we weren’t in the same chain of command I’d be looking to get to know you far more intimately.” She wondered who had managed to kidnap her general in the last five minutes and replace him with this pod person without her noticing. “I’ll give it some thought and maybe make a visit to O-Rec,” he smiled at her conspiratorially, “and I promise not to mention your most improper suggestion… unless I need a favor from you. I will treasure the offer though.” At least the teasing was more back to normal, but that was the closest he’d ever come to telling her how much he really liked her.

  She pulled herself together. “Thank you, Sir, that’s all I can ask.” She didn’t think he really would go to O-Rec, but at least he appeared to be considering options.

  “Now, I don’t want to keep you from preparing for your leave, so I’ll let you get your packing done. I need to go and check on a few things, including tomorrow’s flight schedule. Have a good time, Major, and try not to get too drunk.” He turned and gave her a backward wave before she could even salute and he was gone from the observation area. Strieger stood there in confusion, looking down into the now empty cargo bay and wondering what had just happened.

  Crineal entered his office and sat down at his desk. He fired up the data systems and requested the latest incoming cargo manifests. Scrolling down he found the item he wanted, innocuously labeled as ‘Entertainment Supplies’. Crineal opened the file and started going through the personnel list before finally coming to a halt at the image of a green-eyed, chestnut redheaded woman on the display. Her face was a little long, with a pale complexion and lightly dusted with freckles. It gave her a slightly girlish look. He adjusted and rotated the image for a few seconds to make sure his memory was right and then pulled up her file information. Her name was listed as Cyndora. Crineal snorted, that was about as accurate as his being Crineal. He’d had to modify his name, as had all Earth citizens to match Imperial law. Only the nobles had the legal right to two names. But Cyndora wasn’t even close to her original name. Then he remembered that another part of the Imperial corrections system was stripping criminals of their identities and providing them with new ones. They weren’t quite brainwashed, but using their original names carried heavy punishments. He looked further. Crime: Member of the rebellion, level one. Hmmm, he thought, so she had been a basic cell member. Probably just storing a few illegal items, running messages, that kind of stuff. Certainly nothing big league. Sentence: Forty-five years in a moderate security installation. Crineal winced, just for belonging to the rebellion? Additional Information: Prisoner judged to be low risk and offered alternate sentence following correctional code indoctrination. Yeah, they’d probably done everything to her short of red hot pokers and pulling her finger nails out and then offered her forty-five years more of that or… Prisoner volunteered to serve a twenty-five year sentence assisting the Space Corps. Prisoner has therefore indicated a willingness to cooperate with Imperial justice, and leniency has been shown by granting her request. Prisoner processed for induction to Space Corps duty. Crineal didn’t even want to think what that was a euphemism for. Service Designation: Standard duties. She was destined for the Enlisted Recreational area. The recreation assistants in the O-Rec were designated as ‘Senior’. Not that that meant there was a promotion
or rank structure for assistants. Those serving in the Officers’ area were judged to be slightly more attractive and/or more intelligent, the better to serve the supposedly more ‘cultured’ desires of the senior crew members. It was possible to move from the Enlisted to Officer Areas but not usual. Transfers the other way were much more likely as prisoners burned out, or were deemed ‘no longer suitable’ following minor rule infractions. He understood it was generally considered to be more desirable to serve in the more comfortable O-Rec. Crineal shut the screen down in disgust. Yes, anyone stupid enough to belong to the rebellion deserved to be punished, he thought. He didn’t have much sympathy for the lower ranks but it seemed to him these kinds of sentences were excessive, even taking into account the longevity offered by Imperial medical research. Now the rebel activists and higher-ups were a different matter. Over the years his hatred towards them had grown stronger and stronger. They deserved all the hell the Imperial justice system could give them. He sat there for a moment pondering and then brought up his displays again. He punched in a request: who was the current commanding officer of the recreation division? The answer flashed back: Lt. Commander Haraway. Ah yes, Crineal vaguely remembered him now. He’d met him a couple of times at senior staff meetings and functions. He didn’t seem to be a bad sort but who knows? He stood up and headed to Haraway’s office.

  Lieutenant Draffar wasn’t in the best of moods. He’d only been allocated a three day pass and that was still two weeks away. In the meantime the work was flooding in due to the re-supply of the carrier whilst she was parked at the Orbital. The recreation division lieutenant looked up as the door opened, irritated by the interruption. A new batch of personnel had arrived a little while ago and he was trying to process their data. He started to speak and then jumped to his feet and saluted when he saw who it was. He didn’t know Crineal personally but he knew him by reputation. If Crineal was here, then something was probably seriously wrong. The man didn’t make social visits outside of the flight areas. “Sir! What can I do for you?”