Cyndora’s alarm buzzer went off at oh four forty as she’d set it to do, so by oh five hundred she was up and waiting when the ensign from the previous day appeared.
“Intake Sixty-Five B, on your feet, front and center,” he yelled.
No one had made the mistake of not setting their alarm or for setting it to oh five hundred exactly. They all knew better than that. Once they were in front of him he gave them a quick inspection. Failing to find anything wrong he led them to a door that was opposite the mess hall area entrance. He keyed the panel and then turned to them.
“This leads to the exercise area. There are various machines there to aid you to keep fit. You are expected to exercise for at least an hour a day. If you fail to keep yourself in shape you will be disciplined. Further failure will see you sent back to serve out your prison term. Am I clear??”
“Yes, Sir,” they all chorused back. Not much call for a fat sex slave, Cyndora thought.
“Very well. Each of you will enter by placing your hand against the scanner; this will register you as authorized. This privilege can be removed.” Cyndora puzzled over that for a moment, why block them from the area if they were supposed to keep fit? Then it dawned on her, it would take a lot more effort without the available machines. Clever, she supposed, in a cruel way.
One by one they had their hands scanned and entered the exercise area. There were a number of basic machines such as treadmills and rowing machines, but nothing exotic. A number of people were already in there working out, naked. It made sense, she guessed, getting your uniform sweaty first thing in the morning wasn’t going to win you anything good. Once they had all palmed themselves in the ensign addressed them again.
“Right, you have an hour to work out, then shower and eat. I’ll be back in the dorm at oh seven forty five to take you to the lecture hall. Now get to it.” He turned and left them standing there. A couple of people looked at each other, shrugged, undressed and headed for the machines. Cyndora disrobed and followed suit. Once her workout was over she followed the others to the adjacent shower room. It came as no surprise to her that it was a communal one. Cyndora felt much better once she was clean again and enjoyed her breakfast before being trooped off to listen to the young officer deliver his talk.
Three hours later, the ensign was finishing up the safety lecture. They were in a classroom area with chairs that had small work tops attached to them. Cyndora had heard where the evacuation stations were, the areas that could be sealed against vacuum and so on and been admonished to review the information on her bed panel data unit.
“Ok, that wraps up the lecture. Study the information. This is a fighting ship; it might save your life.” He glared sternly at them. “On your feet, you’re now heading to ship indoctrination.” Cyndora wilted a little inside. More abuse, she thought. The ensign stopped for a moment and looked down at his data pad and frowned, then looked up at them. “Is there a Cyndora here?”
Cyndora’s heart stopped and her stomach did a flip-flop, being called out always meant something bad, but she raised her hand and stepped forward. No sense in making it worse.
The ensign looked at her a moment and then back at his pad to confirm her identity. “You go with these two guards. You’ve been assigned to an officer.” He glanced at the pad again and then his eyes widened. She could see him querying the information. Eventually, the pad bleeped at him. He took a last look at it and then her. “Consider yourself fortunate, it’s a very senior officer.” He gestured to a couple of the guards. “You two, escort her to General Crineal’s quarters and leave her inside, then report back to me. The general should have set up access for you, but contact me immediately if there’s a problem. I’m not going to have the general mad at me for any reason whatsoever."
The two guards saluted, “Yes, Sir,” and flanked Cyndora to escort her out of the room. The rest of the intake watched her leave in silence. She saw Jaydea looking worriedly at her. Most of the others’ expressions had pity in them. No one, not even herself, considered her fortunate. As Cyndora was marched along the brightly lit white corridors by her guards, she wondered what was going to happen to her. In her experience the lower ranks were brutish, but that was about it. The higher in rank the more twisted and cruel the perversions seemed to go. And she was being escorted to a general. She shuddered to think what he wanted her for, but she was sure it wouldn’t be pleasant. Eventually they came to a stop outside a door, the stripe color on the walls was now blue, and one of the guards checked his pad and then keyed a code into the door. The door slid open and the other guard gave her a gentle shove forward before following her in. She looked around the room and noticed the guards doing the same. She figured they didn’t get to see a general’s room often, either. The three of them were standing in a small lounge area, which, by itself, indicated power in a warship designed for efficiency. The lounge was big enough to hold a small dining table that seated six, two easy chairs and a double seat sofa plus a mid-sized replicator on the wall with an entertainment unit next to it. To one side was a kitchen area with a food replicator and counter. A door on the wall opposite from the entrance must lead to a sleeping area, she assumed.
One of the guards let out a low whistle “Blimey, this ain’t bad. I wonder if I could get a set up like this.”
The other guard snorted derisively. “Sure, all you’ve got to do is be the best pilot the Space Corps has and put your ass on the line every time you go out on a patrol. I hear half of his squadron’s still in med bay after that scrap the other day and the rest are on leave recovering.” He gestured around the room. “You really think all this is worth that?”
The first guard nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s still nice though,” then he gave Cyndora a glare. “Alright, you, you’re to wait here until General Crineal returns. Don’t touch anything. Understand?”
Cyndora nodded, “Yes, Sir,” and stood there meekly, next to the table.
The guard grunted and then he and his companion left, with a last look around. Cyndora let her eyes wander around the place, noting the lack of ornaments and a very few personal effects. After ten minutes she decided that sitting down couldn’t be against her orders and she pulled out one of the dining chairs to rest on whilst she waited in fear for the return of this General Crineal.
The group of new recreation assistants stood in the enlisted rec area attentively listening to the ensign as he pointed out various features of the room and some of the duties they would be expected to perform. Most of it they had heard before but they still paid careful attention for the bits and pieces that were new to them. Jaydea tried to concentrate on the young officer’s words as well but she was deeply worried about what had happened to Cyndora. She had nearly asked the ensign about it on a couple of occasions but self-preservation had kicked in and Jaydea had managed to restrain herself. The ensign had stopped speaking and was looking them over with a slight frown on his face.
“Does anyone have any questions about your duties as described so far?” he asked in a gruff tone. No one spoke up and Jaydea held her hand firmly at her side with a great effort of will. The ensign consulted his watch and then spoke again. “Alright. You have forty five minutes to get lunch and then we’ll pick up again by showing you around the enlisted crew quarters. Dismissed!”
The assistants made for the door that led directly from the rec area to their dorm. An RA was expected to be instantly available if required and so the dorm was attached to the rec area. Once they were in the dorm area conversation broke out amongst them. They had all expected a continuation of the training they had received during their basic induction i.e. lots of abuse. The ensign had seemed contemptuous of them, but so far no one had been hit or sexually abused and most of them felt pleasantly surprised. The rest were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jaydea collected a tray of food from the replicator and looked around for somewhere to sit. Her eyes fell upon the dusky-skinned woman who had greeted them all yesterday. She was sitting at one of the tabl
es talking to another woman who Jaydea would have sworn was Chinese or Japanese if not for her height. Jaydea started to walk over and then hesitated for a moment. If the woman was one of the local toughs or bosses then just walking up and sitting down could mean a world of hurt. Prisoners tended to have their own hierarchy and Jaydea was still uncertain whether this regime applied to recreation assistants as well. In the end she steeled her nerves and cautiously approached the pair.
“Umm, hi. Is it ok if I sit here?” Jaydea asked nervously.
The two women looked up at her and the dusky-skinned one gave a little shrug. “Sure. It’s a free dorm.’
Jaydea breathed a mental sigh of relief and sat down next to the oriental woman, placing her tray carefully on the table. She took a mouthful of food before speaking again. “My name’s Jaydea.”
“Pleased to meet ya,” the dusky woman replied. “I’m Marshalla and this is Xianing,” she said, indicating the other woman with her spoon. Xianing gave her a not unfriendly nod and Jaydea smiled back tentatively. Marshalla looked her over. “You’re one of the newbies, huh?” Jaydea bobbed her head in confirmation as she took another mouthful from her tray. “Little short, ain’t ya?”
Jaydea swallowed and gave a nervous little shrug. “I guess. I’m from Earth. I’m not considered small there.”
“Huh. Not met anyone from there before,” Marshalla said, “Heard a bit about it, though.”
Jaydea summoned up her courage. “You sound like you know what goes on around here.”
“Some,” Marshalla answered warily. “What’s it to ya?”
“I wondered if you might know what’s happened to my friend?” asked Jaydea hopefully.
Marshalla looked at her blankly. “I dunno. Who’s ya friend?” Xianing sipped her drink whilst watching Jaydea interestedly.
“Cyndy… Cyndora. She arrived with me yesterday,” Jaydea explained, “Long red hair, green eyes, short like me.”
“Don’t ring any bells. Why would I know anything?” Marshalla asked with a puzzled frown.
“I was just hoping you might. She was taken away by a couple of guards this morning after a lecture,” Jaydea said in an upset tone.
Marshalla and Xianing exchanged a glance. “She do something wrong? Ya only gotta breathe outta place here to get a slap.”
Jaydea shook her head. “Not that I know, at least not while I was around. The officer said something about an assignment,” she added worriedly.
“Ya sure about that?” Marshalla asked in confusion. Jaydea nodded. “Huh, that’s odd. Only ones who can get assistants assigned to them are officers, high ranked ones at that. We don’t get to see many of them around here so no one asks for us standards to be assigned.” Marshalla looked at Xianing quizzically. “Ya remember anyone from this dorm ever being assigned Xian?”
Xianing shook her head. “Not since I’ve been here. That’s going on seven years now.”
“Me neither.” Marshalla turned back to Jaydea.
“Are assignments bad?” Jaydea asked with growing fear.
“The seniors tell me that it’s hit and miss. Sometimes ya spend a few weeks in someone’s quarters and they treat ya ok, sometimes ya get hurt. Once in a while we get people back in here from assignments. It ain’t always pretty. Some are pretty messed up or gone in the head. They don’t last long after that,” Marshalla informed her gravely.
“I hear that some of them don’t come back at all. We’re told that they’ve been transferred or have had accidents and are recovering,” Xianing said in a quiet voice.
Marshalla nodded. “But it’s all rumors. No one knows for sure.”
Jaydea looked distressed at the thought of any of this happening to Cyndora. “They mentioned something about a general… Crin-something,” she choked out.
Marshalla and Xianing exchanged another sharp look. “General Crineal?”
“I think so,” Jaydea sobbed.
“Aww shit. I’m sorry, girl.” Marshalla said with a sympathetic look as Xianing put her arm around Jaydea’s shoulders. “Crineal’s one of the bosses around here. All the enlisted are scared spit-less of him an’ at the same time they worship the ground he walks on. I heard some bad stuff about him.” Marshalla glanced around to make sure no one could overhear and lowered her voice. “I heard that in combat he shoots up any of his own pilots who screw up rather than court martial ‘em, then calls it ‘friendly fire’. I even heard he shoved one in an airlock and let it slowly decompress while he watched through the port and drank tea. I dunno how she got noticed by him, but I think your friend’s done,” Marshalla told her pityingly. Jaydea cried in Xianing’s arms, her food going cold on the table before her.
Crineal climbed out of the Hunter’s cockpit and down the waiting steps to the flight deck of Bay Beta Ten. The patrol with Hypnos Squadron had been short, only four hours, and the pilots had performed well, if not quite up to the standards of Hera. He’d already agreed with the Hypnos second in command to let her do the debriefing. She’d said she wanted the practice and, after the last few days, Crineal was more than happy to let her have it. He’d missed the familiar banter of his own pilots out there, but Hypnos was still a good bunch and he hadn’t hesitated to let them know that. He gave his own flight a farewell wave as he left the bay and headed back to his quarters. Outside the door he stopped and checked the time, thirteen twenty five. She should be here by now. Crineal considered for a minute and then put his helmet back on before keying his door open and stepping in. The woman had been seated at the dining table, but as soon as the door had opened she flew to her feet and stood there in an un-military semblance of attention, her chest pushed out so that her breasts were clearly outlined against the thin two front panels of her white uniform top. The door slid shut behind him. He stared at her through his visor, confirming she was who he thought she was. All the time they had worked together in that office in Coventry and he’d never seen as much of her body as he was looking at now. It was a little off putting. He’d had a crush on her before but in the situation here it felt somehow wrong to see this much of her skin. He could read a look of fear in her eyes and wondered what she’d been told about him.
“You are Cyndora?” he asked, the helmet’s microphone and speakers transmitting his voice and disguising it a little.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. Her voice was a little high just as he remembered and it squeaked a bit just like it used to when she was excited or panicked.
“And you understand your duties here?” Crineal queried, curious as to the answer.
Cyndora gulped a little at the question from the mysterious black clad figure. “Yes, Sir, to make sure you have everything you need and to keep you happy.” Strange, he was short for a Galactic, only about as tall as she was. She wondered at the question though and started to worry she hadn’t been told something important. He nodded at her reply and that reassured her a little.
“And what is your real name?” the figure in black asked.
Mind racing, thinking this must be a trick question, she replied. “Cyndora, Sir. If you don’t like it I’m sure you can give me another one more to your pleasing.”
Crineal moved to one of the easy chairs and sat down, looking at her silently, before gesturing for her to take her seat again and face him. Cyndora sat and waited, wondering if she’d passed the test. “I’m not going to punish you or report you for telling me. Now, what is your name?” he pressed.
Cyndora closed her eyes and whispered, “It’s Samada, Sir.” She waited for a blow or something. Saying her original name carried a heavy punishment. Was this what he was waiting for? A reason to hit her? She opened her eyes. He still sat there, his arms crossed, not moving. If she could only see his face or his eyes, she might be able to judge what he wanted, what would please him.
He spoke again. “One last time, your real name, not your Imperial one.”
She held her breath for a moment, she hadn’t used that name for nearly fourteen years, hadn’t been able to by law. But
she’d already broken the law more times than she could remember now, so what did once more matter? “My name was Samantha Davies, Sir.”
The black suited figure grew very, very still for a moment and then nodded. “You are thirty-four years old, you were born in Leicester, England and worked in a government office in Coventry before Earth joined the Empire,” he stated.
Her eyes widened in shock. How had he known that? Did he have access to her complete record? The Imperial Adjudicator who had passed sentence said that her records would be sealed so that her past life would be gone and that her history would only be available to the highest levels of the Justice department.
“You left the job just after the occupation and went to stay with your family back in Leicester,” Crineal continued.
Cyndora’s mouth worked, trying to find some words. “How…,” was all that came out.
Crineal reached up and pulled off his helmet. “Hi Sam, nice to see you again.”
Cyndora just stared at him, the face seemed familiar, she knew him, but where… then it clicked. “Chris Neal! What… wait, General Crineal? That’s you! Crineal is your Imperial name.”
Crineal nodded at her. “Yes, we never talked to each other after the various Imperial edicts started to be imposed,” he gave her a little smile. “Samada isn’t bad, I guess. Sounds a little exotic.”
She was still looking at him in shock. “You joined the Imperials? Why?? What would make you do that? They invaded us!!”
Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service Page 8
