Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service (9 page)

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 tables
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.”