Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service

by Raymond L Jennings

  The chestnut redhead stifled another sob. “He said Crin would be ok.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Usually, if they can get you in here, then you’re going to make it.” She looked sharply at Cyndora. “Crin, huh? You really like him then?” Cyndora nodded and gave Feldea gave her another long look. “You in love with him?”

  Cyndora looked startled. “I… I don’t know. He’s really great and kind and I care for him a lot. He’s a good friend.”

  The other woman nodded, smiling a little “We all feel that way about him. Every pilot would give anything for him. But looks like it’s a bit more with you.”

  The med bay doors opened once more and two more officers practically ran in. Both were men, one was tall and thin, the other just a little shorter and stocky, with a short, bristly beard. They slid to a halt as they took in all the med staff working in groups around various beds and then locked their gazes onto where the two women sat with the marine standing guard. As they made their way over, the marine came to life and moved between the two approaching men and the women. They halted uncertainly as they eyed the guard, his pulse rifle at the ready.

  “It’s ok, Private. Unfortunately I know these two,” Feldea reassured him. “So, you’re back from leave and you didn’t come and visit?”

  “C’mon, Fel,” the stocky one said, “You can grouse at us later. How is he?” The two men were eyeing Cyndora as he spoke.

  “Don’t worry, Mus, Doc says he’ll make it.” Cyndora could see the newcomers both ease in relief. “Now, you didn’t visit me and bring me a present why exactly?”

  The tall one looked morose. “We ran out of money. That’s why we’re back early.”

  “How did you two run out of money? The last I knew you’d scammed the squadron out of half of their pay,” Feldea accused with an arched eyebrow.

  “Genius, here,” the stocky one pointed a thumb at the other, “heard of this great place called Las Vegas where he said we could get rich.”

  “How was I to know the games were all rigged, Muscovy? Gimme a break,” the taller one defended himself plaintively.

  “They weren’t rigged, Stal. You just couldn’t break the security to rig them yourself,” Muscovy said.

  “Which just shows they musta been hiding something. I’m telling you the place was crooked,” Staller said heatedly.

  By now Muscovy had fixed his eyes firmly on Cyndora. “And who are you, little lady?” he asked eyeing her figure appreciatively.

  “My name is Cyndora, Sir,” she answered nervously.

  Muscovy opened his mouth to speak again but Feldea cut in. “Cyndy is the general’s personal recreation assistant.” Muscovy’s mouth stayed open in amazement.

  His partner in crime spoke up instead. “Good one, Fel,” he paused, taking in her serious look. “You’re kidding, right? This is the boss we’re talking about… he doesn’t hold with… uh, recreation assistants.” Staller smiled weakly at Cyndora.

  Feldea smiled at them both sweetly. “No joke, boys. The last person who tried to mess with her is in the brig facing a capital court martial. You really, really need to be nice to her.” Cyndora tried to hide a smile as her friend, and she felt a little surprised that she had come to think of Feldea as a friend, laid it on thick for the two men standing there.

  Muscovy recovered first. “Nice to meet you, Cyndora, please excuse my associate here. We’re still trying to train him how to behave in company.” He smiled ingratiatingly at her as Feldea glared at him.

  “Now, why don’t you two leave us in peace and make sure that anyone else who’s back early doesn’t come crashing in here? I’ll comm you if there’s anything you need to know,” she said, making the suggestion sound like an order.

  “Sure, Fel,” Muscovy nudged Staller to shake him out of his stupor. “We can run interference, right, Stal?”

  “Umm… yeah, sure, we can do that,” he said, still looking at Cyndora before shaking himself. “No problem, leave it to us.” He nodded at Cyndora, smiled brightly, then turned and left with Muscovy, gesturing to his bearded friend as they exited the med bay. Cyndora was sure that some of those gestures were about her.

  “Sorry about that, honey,” Feldea said casting dark looks at the pair leaving. “I hope they’re not planning something stupid. The general will skin them alive.”

  “Thanks for protecting me from them, Ma’am,” Cyndora said gratefully.

  “That’s what friends are for. And if you call me Ma’am again…,” she threatened. “You can call me Fel. Us redheads have to stick together, right?”

  “Thank you, Fel. That means a lot to me.” Her eyes were on the general’s bed where the med techs had just finished cutting away his flight suit and under clothes. Even from here Cyndora could see the wounds down his left side, dried and fresh blood was everywhere. Feldea followed her concerned gaze.

  “Don’t worry, Cyndy. It looks worse than it probably is. The flight suits have built in med packs to supplement the med aids on the fighters. The suits are self-sealing, too. I would guess he’s got a lot of shrapnel in him and some vacuum burns from where the suit was ripped before it resealed.” She patted Cyndora’s hand. “He’ll be fine. I was much worse than that when they brought me in.” The doctor was already working on the entry areas and pulling out bits of metal from Crineal’s wounds. “He’ll be out of here in no time and then you get the problem of trying to nurse him whilst he recovers. Don’t envy you that. Well, maybe some of the stuff, like bathing him.” Her hazel eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Cyndora blushed but decided to tease her back. “Got the hots for the general too, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t say no, but I don’t think I’m his type,” she said reflectively. “Not long term anyway. A short fling might be a lot of fun though.”

  Cyndora felt a surge of jealousy and then wondered where it had come from. Crineal was hardly her boyfriend… maybe. Plus Galactics tended to be a lot more open about casual relationships. Short-term partnerships weren’t unusual and they were more accepting when a partner decided to go on their separate way. Still, the pangs she had felt were very real.

  An hour later, Doctor Marrash had finished patching Crineal up and Cyndora was allowed to sit next to him. His left side, arm and leg were wrapped in bandages over a coating of gel. Her new guard stood by her, the previous one having been relieved about forty-five minutes earlier. He scanned the med area alertly for any threats. The door opened and the guard tensed slightly and then sprang to attention. Cyndora looked up to see a black-haired man with an awful lot of gold braid on his shoulder tabs entering.

  “Attention. Admiral on deck,” her guard shouted as he threw up a precision salute.

  Cyndora jumped to her feet and stood as she’d been instructed to, a semi-attention, thrusting out a lot of breast.

  “At ease, everyone,” Ken’Rathel said as he headed towards Crineal’s bed. The guard relaxed fractionally and Cyndora just stayed where she was, uncertain what to do. He came to a stop in front of her. “You, too, young lady,” he said kindly with a rich mellow voice. “Please sit down.” He looked around for a chair for himself and before he could even give an order the guard had moved one into place for him. “Thank you, son. I appreciate it.” He sat down and looked at Crineal’s unconscious form. “How is he?”

  “The doctor says he’s doing well, Sir. They had to dig a lot of shrapnel out of him, but he’s going to be ok.” Cyndora sat stiffly upright as she’d been taught to.

  “You must be Cyndora, I’m Admiral Ken’Rathel.” She stiffened further on hearing his name and knowing from it that he was a noble. He eyed her shrewdly for a moment and then looked up at the guard. “Private, would you mind posting yourself at the doorway, please?”

  The marine snapped back to attention, saluted and marched stiffly to stand sentry at the entrance to the ward. Once he was out of earshot the admiral smiled warmly at her. “Don’t worry, Cyndora. We’re not all like Commander Del’Tarim. I’d like to apologize to y
ou for his behavior. As one of my officers, I take full responsibility for his actions and promise you that I will do my best to ensure that he receives the appropriate punishment.” Cyndora was more than a little surprised to hear his apology and also wondered if he was in on Crineal’s plans to deal with Del’Tarim.

  “Thank you, Sir, but you have nothing to apologize for. The commander was responsible for his own actions.”

  “Most gracious and I thank you for that.” He looked pained for a moment. “Please, would you pull your, admittedly lovely, chest in? I’m an old man and not used to that much excitement.” Ken’Rathel gave her another smile to show he was teasing her. Cyndora relaxed in her chair and returned his smile. “Thank you. I didn’t want the doctor to have to treat me. Did he say when the general would be up and about?”

  “No, Sir,” Cyndora replied. “He said he’d know more when the general recovered consciousness.”

  “Well, he’s certainly going to be off flight duty for a while. I wish he’d taken the leave I offered him, but I’m glad he was out there today. We might have lost the whole squadron without him.” The admiral looked somber. “With the general being in this condition, I’m going to order a permanent guard for you both until the trial is over.”

  “Yes, Sir. When will that be?” she asked curiously, anxious for the whole thing to be over and done with.

  “It was supposed to start in three days’ time, but it will have to wait until General Crineal is fit enough to attend. Well, I’d better have a word with the doctor,” and he rose to his feet. Cyndora started to stand, too, but he waved her down. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, young lady. In the meantime, you take care of the general for me.” Ken’Rathel gave her a last smile and went in search of Doctor Marrash.

  Cyndora wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she was roused from a semi-doze by a small groan from the bed next to her. She came fully awake and leaned over to see that Crineal’s eyelids were moving.

  “Uuhhhh,” he breathed heavily and then opened his eyes slowly. His blue irises looked odd against the bloodshot redness of the whites. He licked his lips. “Hi there,” he croaked.

  “Hey yourself.” She smiled back at him whilst hitting the button on the bed panel to summon one of the med staff. One of the techs appeared and immediately comm’d Dr Marrash upon seeing that the general was awake.

  “Thirsty,” Crineal whispered in a cracked voice. The tech disappeared for a minute and came back with a soft plastic bottle of water with a tube in it. He put the tube to the general’s lips and squeezed out a little water for him.

  “That’ll have to do until the doc gets here I’m afraid,” said the tech apologetically.

  Thankfully, Marrash arrived after a few minutes. “General, you’re spending entirely too much time in my med bay. Any more and I’ll get you transferred here as a tech.”

  “Sorry about that, Doc,” he replied in a weak voice. “I get turned on by the uniforms.”

  The doctor snorted. “If you want those kinds of thrills then have your young lady play dress-up for you.”

  “Can I take that as a medical order, Doc?” he said with a little smile at Cyndora.

  “If you need an order for that, General, then you’re far beyond my help,” Marrash shot back at him whilst looking at the medical sensor display. “Well, between these read outs and your flippant replies, my professional opinion is that you need more sleep and then we’ll pack you off to your quarters in the morning unless you have a relapse during the night.” He looked at Cyndora. “I assume you’re capable of at least looking after the general once he’s back there? Not letting him sprint around? Fixing his meals? That kind of thing?”

  “Yes, Sir. I can do that,” she replied, not taking her eyes off Crineal’s face.

  “Good, now I can go and get some sleep.” He looked at the med tech. “Give the general some more water and dose him with another sedative. Call me if there’s an emergency,” and with that he walked brusquely out.

  The tech shot a hypo into Crineal’s right arm and then fed him some more water before leaving, placing the bottle of water on a shelf next to the bed. Within minutes Crineal’s eyes had closed again, but this time he was asleep rather than unconscious. Cyndora was feeling tired herself and could barely keep her eyes open. On the next bed over Feldea lay watching her friend start to nod off in her chair. The lieutenant pressed the call button on her bed panel and the med tech reappeared.

  “Yes, Ma’am? What do you need?” he asked.

  “Not me, Petty Officer, her,” she said, nodding to Cyndora. “She needs a bed.”

  “Uh, but she has quarters to go to, Ma’am.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “You really want to separate the general from his assistant and her guard? It’s just for the night, Petty Officer, and you’re hardly short of beds. I’m sure Doctor Marrash won’t mind and I’d hate to call him to ask him to authorize it.”

  The med tech looked at her in resignation, recognizing that this was a fight he wasn’t going to win. “Yes, Ma’am. I guess the one here between you and the general will be most suitable.” He went over to the dozing Cyndora and shook her gently awake. “Assistant? Why don’t you use this bed? Get some proper sleep?”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Cyndora smiled tiredly at him and got up to lie down on the very inviting-looking bed. Kicking her sandals off, she saw Feldea watching her with a smile and mouthed “Thank you” to her before stretching out on the bed, pulling the cover over herself and falling asleep.

  Early the next morning Cyndora and Feldea were awake and chatting when Crineal awoke. They both heard him stir and whilst the lieutenant propped herself up and gave him a most unorthodox salute, Cyndora moved to the side of his bed.

  “Good morning, Sir,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Someone needs to get the number of the cruiser that ran over me,” Crineal said huskily, his throat raw and dry.

  Picking up the water bottle, Cyndora fed him some of its contents. “Better?” she inquired.

  He cleared his throat. “Much,” he affirmed in a stronger voice. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

  “Good morning, Sir,” Feldea said with a grin. “I know you like visiting me but there really wasn’t any need to go to this much effort. I do appreciate it though. Oh, Staller and Muscovy dropped in yesterday whilst you were out cold.”

  “Thank heavens for small mercies then,” Crineal muttered loudly, intending it to be overheard. The two women giggled whilst the fresh marine guard struggled to keep a straight face.

  “And the admiral came by as well, Sir,” added Cyndora. “He said that the trial would be postponed until you were fit enough to attend and that we would be assigned a marine guard each until it was over.”

  Crineal grunted. “Maybe the guard can protect me from Staller and Muscovy, too.” He shifted on the bed experimentally and winced. “I think you’ll be doing your exercises without me for a while.” Crineal lifted his head and looked around the ward, counting the other occupants and coming up a few short in numbers for the Ares pilots. “Did everyone else get in safely?”

  Cyndora nodded. “I think so, Sir. I counted fourteen pilots in here yesterday before you arrived.”

  Grimacing, Crineal nodded. “That’s what I brought back.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Sir. The admiral said that if you hadn’t been out there, he didn’t think anyone would have got back,” Cyndora comforted him.

  Feldea nodded. “I took a look at the battle report this morning, Sir. You were ambushed by two squadrons. You couldn’t cut and run, and under those odds it’s amazing you even survived the missile salvo, never mind the dog fight. The survivors have you to thank for being alive, Sir.”

  “You two make a great cheerleading squad, I have to admit. But I still take responsibility for all those dead people.”

  One of the women in another bed struggled to sit up. “Sir? They’re right. Without you we wouldn’t be here. When the Axes lit up their
drives and I saw how many of them there were, I was sure we were dead.” She looked at him with an earnest expression on her oval-shaped face. “Then in the middle of the fight I had two of them on me and you came out of nowhere and blasted them. I owe you my life twice over, Sir. When I saw you fire at point blank range at the second one and go crashing into the debris I thought you were dead. I’m glad you’re still here, Sir.”

  Laying there silently for a minute, Crineal thought about this. “Thank you……,” he found that he didn’t know who she was.

  The short-haired brunette smiled at him. “Pilot Officer Pretoia, Sir, Mu Four. I just transferred into Ares. This was my first fight. Should have been my last, too, except for you, Sir.” She looked at him worshipfully whilst Cyndora and Feldea exchanged glances of good humored disgust.

  “You’re welcome, Pilot Officer. Now you just have to survive Captain Trovas' debriefing and I won’t be there for that.”

  “Thank you, Sir. I hope he won’t be too harsh on me. I know I have a lot to learn.”

  At that point Dr Marrash came in trailed by a couple of med techs. He made a beeline for Crineal. “Well, General, how are you feeling this morning?”

  Cyndora moved out of the way and went back to sit with Feldea. The lieutenant whispered in her ear, “There’s one who’ll be having wet dreams about the general for a while,” nodding at the brunette who was still gazing adoringly at Crineal. “Oh, the foolishness of the young.”

  “Unlike old biddies such as us, you mean?” Cyndora asked archly. Feldea grinned at her.

  Meanwhile, Crineal was answering the doctor loudly. “I feel like absolute crap, Doc. My arm hurts, my leg hurts, my side hurts, even my little pinkies hurt.” The doctor looked a little surprised and Crineal grinned at him and then at all the other injured pilots who were listening in. “Let that be a lesson to you all. Don’t try all that stoic crap of ‘I’m fine’. Tell the doc how you really feel. He’ll have you out of here in no time. No one can stand to have a whiner around.” There was absolute silence for a second and then everyone burst out laughing. The two med techs tried their hardest to keep it together, but even they doubled up. The doctor just looked down at Crineal with a deadpan expression. But through her tears of laughter, Cyndora could see that his eyes were dancing, too.