Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service (3 page)

“Thank
you, General. Forward me your patrol plan and I’ll sign off on it. That was all
I had for you.” Ken’Rathel stood, indicating that the meeting was over. Crineal
followed suit and saluted the admiral before turning and leaving the office.

He
made his way back to the flight area and Major Strieger’s office. She was alone
at her desk reviewing reports. “Are you busy, Major?”

She
stood up and saluted as he entered. “No, Sir, nothing that can’t wait at
least.” Strieger resumed her seat as Crineal sat down. “What’s up?”

“The
admiral wants us on patrol the first day at Earth Orbital.” He watched as
Strieger groaned and put her head in her hands.

“There
goes the leave roster,” she sighed.

Crineal
gave her a sympathetic look. “Let’s see it. We’ll do something with it. Oh, and
Hantos is being transferred to the Orbital.”

Strieger
shot him an acidic look. “Great, just as we get a good bay commander they move
him on. Do you know who his replacement will be?”

He
shook his head. “No, I asked the admiral and he didn’t know either.”

The
major called up the leave roster on the screen and adjusted it for Crineal to
see. “Any more good news for me, Sir?”

Crineal
grinned at her. “Not yet, but I’ll be sure to share it with you the moment I
do.” He looked at the roster. “Hmmm… How about delaying the first set of leaves
until the second day on station?  That set is only two flights instead of three,
and the other squadrons will be running patrols as well. We’ll just have a one
day overlap where we’re down five flights, and that’s on a day the squadron
isn’t scheduled for patrol anyway. If we’re hit by something big enough that
the rest of the wings can’t handle it, then the extra two flights aren’t going
to make a difference.”

Strieger
looked at the list for a moment and then shrugged. “Works for me.” She made the
amendments and hit the Commit key. “There we go. Posted. Let’s hope the admiral
doesn’t have any more bright ideas.” She sat back in her chair and looked at
him. “What are you going to be doing during our station time, Sir?” Crineal sat
silently. “You didn’t volunteer to cover the squadron leader’s leave again, did
you?” He stayed silent. “Arrrgh, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you,
Sir. You need R & R as badly as everyone else.”

Crineal
held up his hand placatingly. “Don’t worry, Major. The admiral said he’d order
me to take leave at our next stopover.”

“Good
for the admiral. I wish I could order you as well,” Strieger said, frustrated.

Crineal
gave her an amused look. “I thought you ordered me around already, Major.”

“I
wish, Sir, I wish.”

He
stood up and motioned for her to stay seated. “Well, let’s make sure the boys
and girls get some rest before we hit the Orbital. I have the same feeling as
the admiral. I think we’re going to get hit.”

Strieger
nodded somberly. “I wouldn’t bet against either one of you and I’m sure as
stars not going to bet against both of you.”

“I
hope we’re wrong, but…,” Crineal shrugged and turned to leave. “You get some
rest, too, Major. You could use the leave as well.” He threw her a backward
wave as he exited her office.

Streiger
sat looking at the door. He was pushing himself, she thought. I hope it’s not
too hard. Even the best can break. She shook her head as she recognized how
much she cared for her commanding officer. He was a good man, a terrific pilot
and the best boss she’d had. She again toyed idly with the idea of seducing him
but she knew neither of them would go through with it. Even if regulations
would permit it, they might ruin the great relationship they had and neither
would risk that. Strieger sighed once more, she needed leave just as the
general had said and probably needed to get laid, too.

Crineal
sat down in his office chair and sent a message to Commander Hantos inviting
him for a farewell drink in the Officers Recreation area later that evening.
Ten minutes later his message box beeped at him with a reply from Hantos,
thanking him and accepting the invite. He finished up the last few requisition
requests and forwarded them to Supply Division. Then he headed back to his
quarters for a shower and some dinner before meeting with Hantos. He finished
drying off just as the replicator unit pinged and delivered his meal. Crineal
took the tray from the unit and settled down at the table to eat. The roast
beef was excellent despite being artificial. Most of the Galactics he knew said
they could always tell when food came from a replicator as opposed to being the
real thing; it lacked the right flavors. Crineal guessed he was just a back-world
hick because it all tasted good to him. He finished eating and shoved the tray
into the recycler before getting dressed and heading to the O-Rec. As he opened
the door to the lounge the sounds of laughter, music and the buzz of
conversation swept over him. The lounge was a typical relaxation area. There
was a bar at one end, tables and chairs were scattered around the open floor
area and the walls were lined with booths for groups wanting a little more
privacy. He spotted Hantos over at the bar and headed towards him. The commander
looked up, saw him coming and waved him over.

“Sir,
very kind of you to invite me. I’m most honored,” Hantos said with respect in
his voice. Although he had worked with Crineal for over two years now, he had
been surprised and pleased that the general had invited him for a social
meeting. Most flag officers barely deigned to notice lower ranks outside of
their duty stations.

“It’s
the least I could do, Commander. You’ve done a great job running the fighter
bays and I and my pilots appreciate it. Now what’ll you have? And please don’t
be shy about ordering. Your bar tab is on me tonight.” Crineal watched with
amusement as a startled look passed across the commander’s face.

He
recovered quickly though. “That’s very generous of you, Sir. I don’t know what
to say.” Hantos couldn’t believe that a general was buying him drinks, not only
a general but one of the most decorated officers in the Space Corps and not
with what he called phony awards, either. Most of them were gallantry and
heroism commendations.

“Well,
you could start by telling the bartender what you want,” Crineal suggested.

Hantos
ordered a whisky to go with the beer he already had; Crineal ordered a lager.
It was funny, he mused, how much food and drink was common to both the
Galactics and Earthers. It was one of the cornerstones of the arguments for the
alien seeding of humanity theory put forward by some Imperial scholars.

“So,
Commander, does your transfer come with a promotion?” Crineal asked as he
sipped his drink. He wasn’t a big drinker and much preferred non-alcoholic
beverages, but the odd pint here and there to be sociable was fine with him.

Hantos
took a big swig of beer. “Unfortunately not,” he said regretfully. “It’s a bit
more responsibility but no extra grade. So it’s kind of sideways and a little
up. At least I’ll be able to get regular planet side leave,” he grinned.

Crineal
raised his glass to that. He liked Hantos. He was bluff and forthright and ran
the fighter bays with a calm efficiency. He didn’t tolerate slacking from his
crews or stupidity from the flight crews, either. If Hantos passed a report
along for him to deal with, Crineal knew one of his pilots had screwed up
royally. He was going to miss Hantos. “Is this a regular duty rotation?”

Hantos
knocked back his shot of whisky and signaled for another. “No, I wasn’t due for
a station change for another six months. I hear that they’ve been having some
problems in the cargo bays and wanted someone in there as a troubleshooter.”

“Sounds
like someone wasn’t on top of the job,” Crineal observed.

Hantos
nodded his agreement. “Any suggestions for places I could visit on Earth? I
hear you’re from there?” he ventured.

Major
Strieger entered the O-Rec and looked around for any of her regular drinking
cronies and nearly fell over when she saw Crineal at the bar. She had to look
twice. He never came down here apart from promotion parties for his pilots or
similar events, and even then he usually excused himself early. Then she saw
who he was with, Hantos. Ahh, she thought, that explained why he was here. She
made her way over to the bar to where they stood chatting. “Sir,” she nodded to
Crineal. “Commander,” this time nodding to Hantos. “May I join you?”

“Of
course, Major,” Crineal replied as he gestured to the bartender. “Drink for
Major Strieger. I might have known you’d show up when you heard there were free
drinks going,” he teased, his blue eyes twinkling.

“I’ll
take a white wine with lemonade,” Strieger told the bartender before turning
back to Crineal. “Actually, I’m here because I heard the most amazing rumor
that the general was in the O-Rec and, therefore, the universe was about to
fall apart in shock.” The bartender returned with her drink and she raised her
glass to Crineal before taking a sip. Crineal laughed. Hantos stared in
amazement at the banter between the two.

“Have
you managed to convince the good commander here to accept a demotion to stay
aboard the Annihilator and make our lives easier?” She smiled at Hantos and
raised her glass to him, too.

“Sadly,
no. I was just contemplating calling for Staller and Muscovy to come up with a
scheme to kidnap him and hold him here until we break orbit.” The pilots
Crineal referred to were the squadron’s two most incorrigible pranksters and
con artists.

Hantos
groaned. “Not those two. You’d probably never find me again and I’d end up
trying to survive in a remote cargo hold eating rats.” He’d had his own run-ins
with the pair.

An
ensign staggered up to the bar with his arms wrapped around a pair of female recreation
assistants and bumped into Crineal. He peered around one of the women he was
cuddling to see who he’d collided with and started an apology, “Sorry about…” He
trailed off as Crineal turned around to look at him and the young officer
realized whom he had just jostled. He snapped to attention immediately and gave
the general a salute. “I most humbly apologize, Sir.” The ensign had gone from
slightly tipsy to stone cold sober in an instant. The two women looked
nervously at Crineal. They weren’t sure who he was but he was obviously
powerful which could mean trouble for them.

Crineal
raised his glass to the young officer. “No need to salute, Ensign; we’re all
off duty here. Go ahead and enjoy your evening.”

The
sandy-haired junior officer gave Crineal a tentative smile and then turned away
with the women to find a safer spot in the O-Rec that wasn’t occupied by
generals. Crineal watched him go, the two women trailing along in his wake,
their short toga style dresses displaying all of their legs and sometimes the curve
of their buttocks as they moved. The garments were also sleeveless and mostly
side-less, frequently exposing the roundness of a breast and often a lot more.
Crineal looked around at the other recreation assistants that were moving
through the room to see to the needs of the officers. He snorted to himself; recreation
assistants indeed! Why couldn’t Space Corps call them for what they were; sex
slaves. They were here to keep the crew of the carrier happy in whatever form a
person might wish and ‘No’ wasn’t an acceptable answer to a request. He knew
that all of the men and women serving in the role were criminals and had
volunteered for the assignment. The volunteer bit was also a joke. Each of them
had a twenty year sentence or more hanging over them. Or they could ‘volunteer’
to become recreation assistants to serve their debt to the Empire. Mostly that
meant at least ten years of shipboard service unless they violated any of the
rules, in which case it could be much more, or perhaps much less with a one way
trip to an airlock. He watched as a tall female brunette commander cuddled up
to a handsome, athletic-looking man in his short toga outfit, fondling his
bottom as they headed out of the O-Rec and likely back to her quarters. At least
it wasn’t sexist, thought Crineal a little mockingly. A lot of the prisoners
were probably rebels. Captured rebels faced the stiffest sentences. Even
providing minor support to the rebels carried a thirty year sentence. And the
rebels were getting better treatment than Imperial prisoners did at rebel
hands. It was the hopeless look a lot of them had that Crineal found hard to
stomach. He noticed Strieger watching him as she half listened to Hantos
chatting away to her. He wondered if she ever availed herself of the O-Rec’s
services. He finished up his lager and put his glass on the counter.

“Well,
I should get some sleep. It’s going to be a long couple of days. Best of luck
to you, Commander,” he said as he held out his hand to Hantos. “I hope that we
get a chance to serve together again soon.”

Hantos
took the general’s proffered hand and shook it. “Thank you, Sir. It’s been a
privilege working with you. Something that I can tell stories about at the
O-Rec on Earth Orbital.”

Crineal
laughed good-naturedly. “Try not to make them too tall, Commander. I’ll see if
I can pop in before we pull out of Earth Orbital and say goodbye. Have an enjoyable
rest of the evening.”

Strieger
took another swallow from her glass before putting it on the bar next to
Crineal’s. She sighed theatrically. “As a dutiful second-in-command, I guess
I’d better follow the general here and get some rest too.” She gave Hantos a
quick hug, which surprised both him and the general. “Next time the drinks are
on you as host on Earth Orbital.”