Free Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service by Raymond L Jennings Page B

observation area. Strieger stood there in confusion, looking down
into the now empty cargo bay and wondering what had just happened.
     
    Crineal
entered his office and sat down at his desk. He fired up the data systems and
requested the latest incoming cargo manifests. Scrolling down he found the item
he wanted, innocuously labeled as ‘Entertainment Supplies’. Crineal opened the
file and started going through the personnel list before finally coming to a
halt at the image of a green-eyed, chestnut redheaded woman on the display. Her
face was a little long, with a pale complexion and lightly dusted with
freckles. It gave her a slightly girlish look. He adjusted and rotated the
image for a few seconds to make sure his memory was right and then pulled up
her file information. Her name was listed as Cyndora. Crineal snorted, that was
about as accurate as his being Crineal. He’d had to modify his name, as had all
Earth citizens to match Imperial law. Only the nobles had the legal right to
two names. But Cyndora wasn’t even close to her original name. Then he
remembered that another part of the Imperial corrections system was stripping
criminals of their identities and providing them with new ones. They weren’t
quite brainwashed, but using their original names carried heavy punishments. He
looked further. Crime: Member of the rebellion, level one. Hmmm, he thought, so
she had been a basic cell member. Probably just storing a few illegal items,
running messages, that kind of stuff. Certainly nothing big league. Sentence:
Forty-five years in a moderate security installation. Crineal winced, just for
belonging to the rebellion? Additional Information: Prisoner judged to be low
risk and offered alternate sentence following correctional code indoctrination.
Yeah, they’d probably done everything to her short of red hot pokers and
pulling her finger nails out and then offered her forty-five years more of that
or… Prisoner volunteered to serve a twenty-five year sentence assisting the
Space Corps. Prisoner has therefore indicated a willingness to cooperate with
Imperial justice, and leniency has been shown by granting her request. Prisoner
processed for induction to Space Corps duty. Crineal didn’t even want to think
what that was a euphemism for. Service Designation: Standard duties. She was
destined for the Enlisted Recreational area. The recreation assistants in the
O-Rec were designated as ‘Senior’. Not that that meant there was a promotion or
rank structure for assistants. Those serving in the Officers’ area were judged
to be slightly more attractive and/or more intelligent, the better to serve the
supposedly more ‘cultured’ desires of the senior crew members. It was possible
to move from the Enlisted to Officer Areas but not usual. Transfers the other
way were much more likely as prisoners burned out, or were deemed ‘no longer
suitable’ following minor rule infractions. He understood it was generally
considered to be more desirable to serve in the more comfortable O-Rec. Crineal
shut the screen down in disgust. Yes, anyone stupid enough to belong to the
rebellion deserved to be punished, he thought. He didn’t have much sympathy for
the lower ranks but it seemed to him these kinds of sentences were excessive,
even taking into account the longevity offered by Imperial medical research.
Now the rebel activists and higher-ups were a different matter. Over the years
his hatred towards them had grown stronger and stronger. They deserved all the
hell the Imperial justice system could give them. He sat there for a moment
pondering and then brought up his displays again. He punched in a request: who
was the current commanding officer of the recreation division? The answer
flashed back: Lt. Commander Haraway. Ah yes, Crineal vaguely remembered him
now. He’d met him a couple of times at senior staff meetings and functions. He
didn’t seem to be a bad sort but who knows? He stood up and headed to