The Llywellyn Chronicle: Dark Duty
26 December 1982
Deep inside the military headquarters of the 5th Division, a tall officer approached a non-descript and unguarded door. Waving his ID card in front of the scanner, Lieutenant Davyd Gruffudd Llywellyn waited for the door to open.
The room appeared to be a large office, fugaciously decorated. In the centre was a large desk and behind it was the only person Llywellyn would ever admit to being afraid of.
Henry Richards looked up from the computer screen, fixing Llywellyn with a piercing, one-eyed gaze. The other eye was covered by a patch the colour of dried blood, affixed with three screws embedded in the bone around Richards’ socket. Llywellyn got the distinct feeling, as he always did in Richards’ presence, that that gaze had him weighed and measured, and found barely adequate.
"You have a report, lef-tenant?" The rank was pronounced after the fashion of the British Commonwealth.
"Yes, Brigadier. From the Wraiths in Hyperbia. They confirm receipt of two hundred CR-08 rifles."
"Traceable?" Richards’ gravelly voice carried a rising menace, promising great suffering for an unfavourable response.
Llywellyn swallowed in spite of himself. "No, sir. The weapons were routed through some of the more, shall we say, anarchic nationstates. Our support will not be traced without alerting us to the effort – an effort we would squash."
Richards returned his gaze to his computer, effectively dismissing Llywellyn. The lieutenant was more than amenable to taking the opportunity to leave.
Once back in the corridor, safely on his way back to the upper levels, Llywellyn’s fear abated and his ambition reasserted itself. He had once hoped to work closely with the formidable Brigadier Richards, to benefit from Richards’ knowledge and experience. Now, Llywellyn hoped to one day supplant him. Such was an accepted method of advancement in the Wraiths.
But that concern was for another day; today, Llywellyn needed to coordinate the placement of special forces operatives from Wales into Hyperbia. A supply depot had been raided and punishment had to be meted out. Perhaps the messy destruction of a few public buildings would be sufficient to send the message to the Hyperbian leader - his time in office was over and his succession was overdue.
Deep inside the military headquarters of the 5th Division, a tall officer approached a non-descript and unguarded door. Waving his ID card in front of the scanner, Lieutenant Davyd Gruffudd Llywellyn waited for the door to open.
The room appeared to be a large office, fugaciously decorated. In the centre was a large desk and behind it was the only person Llywellyn would ever admit to being afraid of.
Henry Richards looked up from the computer screen, fixing Llywellyn with a piercing, one-eyed gaze. The other eye was covered by a patch the colour of dried blood, affixed with three screws embedded in the bone around Richards’ socket. Llywellyn got the distinct feeling, as he always did in Richards’ presence, that that gaze had him weighed and measured, and found barely adequate.
"You have a report, lef-tenant?" The rank was pronounced after the fashion of the British Commonwealth.
"Yes, Brigadier. From the Wraiths in Hyperbia. They confirm receipt of two hundred CR-08 rifles."
"Traceable?" Richards’ gravelly voice carried a rising menace, promising great suffering for an unfavourable response.
Llywellyn swallowed in spite of himself. "No, sir. The weapons were routed through some of the more, shall we say, anarchic nationstates. Our support will not be traced without alerting us to the effort – an effort we would squash."
Richards returned his gaze to his computer, effectively dismissing Llywellyn. The lieutenant was more than amenable to taking the opportunity to leave.
Once back in the corridor, safely on his way back to the upper levels, Llywellyn’s fear abated and his ambition reasserted itself. He had once hoped to work closely with the formidable Brigadier Richards, to benefit from Richards’ knowledge and experience. Now, Llywellyn hoped to one day supplant him. Such was an accepted method of advancement in the Wraiths.
But that concern was for another day; today, Llywellyn needed to coordinate the placement of special forces operatives from Wales into Hyperbia. A supply depot had been raided and punishment had to be meted out. Perhaps the messy destruction of a few public buildings would be sufficient to send the message to the Hyperbian leader - his time in office was over and his succession was overdue.
posted by C Shawn at 1:59 AM
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