Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service Read Free Page A

black boots. The jacket had a wrap
across breast panel that sealed electro-statically, alleviating the need for
buttons or zips. There were division patches on the upper arms to indicate his
duty post and rank insignia on the collar lapels. The three gold stars that
indicated his rank of general glinted back at him in the mirror as he stood in
front of the sink in his bathroom. Crineal took a few moments to rinse his face
and freshen up before heading to his office to review the patrol records and
deal with all the other administrative details that seemed to require his
absolute and immediate attention. His office was small and plain, containing
just a few chairs and a desk. The desk, of course, was also his data-point and
from it he could access the ship’s computer network. With total electronic data
storage and retrieval there was no need for most of the office paraphernalia he
was used to in his former job. He sometimes wondered if he could put in a couple
of filing cabinets, just for nostalgia, and maybe lose some of the reports in
them somehow. If only it was just his own squadron he was dealing with, then
the admin wouldn’t be a problem, he thought. But, for his sins, he was
Annihilator’s flight group commander, which made him responsible for all of the
squadrons in the strike force. Mostly the squadron leaders handled their own
issues, but the tricky ones all found their way onto his desk. What was that
old saying? Ten percent of the problems occupy ninety percent of your time.
Crineal sighed as he leaned forward again to look at the patrol flight
recordings once more, the holographic screens lighting up his face. He’d been
at it for about thirty minutes when the door plate chimed and announced Major Strieger.
He keyed the door open from his desk and Strieger walked in carrying two cups.
She smiled in self-satisfaction as she noted the lack of drink anywhere on Crineal’s
desk, pleased that she knew her commanding officer well enough to guess he’d be
neglecting himself.
    “Borrelean
ale or tea, Sir?” Strieger asked him, jokingly. She looked as fresh as if she
had just woken up and then spent two hours primping herself. Crineal was amazed
at how she managed it, and a little jealous, too.
    “I’ll
take the tea,” he said and held out his hand. He knew that the other cup didn’t
hold the potent alcoholic ale but was more likely kafe, the major’s preferred
drink. Crineal shut down the screens and leaned back in his chair as he gestured
for Strieger to take one of the seats on the other side of his desk. She sat
down and considered him with her green-blue eyes. He looked tired and in need
of a rest, she thought.
    The
major nodded towards where the now absent screens had been. “Find anything
worrying?” Strieger asked as she raised her cup to her lips.
    He
sipped his tea for a moment. “Minor stuff. Dellerman is still too quick to
break off and chase down an opponent. It’s going to get him into trouble one
day.”
    Strieger
shrugged, her blonde bangs bouncing on her forehead. “He’ll learn. He’s still
young.”
    Crineal
sighed. “If he doesn’t learn fast he won’t get much older.”
    The
major grinned at him with her generous pale pink lips. “Says the general from
his lofty age of what? Thirty-six?”
    He
put on a wounded look. “Thirty-five if you don’t mind,” and then grinned back
at her. “Still, someone will need to have a chat with him. He’s good but he
needs to rein himself in a bit. Do you want to talk to him?” Crineal asked
hopefully.
    “Oh
no, Sir. I think it would have more impact coming from an elder statesman such
as yourself.” Strieger smiled at Crineal. She had ten more years than he did
but easily looked like she could have been his younger sister. Imperial medical
treatments greatly retarded the aging process. Even sixty was still considered
young in Imperial terms.
    Crineal
put on a sour expression. “Fine, I’ll go and be all patriarchal, see if I can
get