THE THRILLING

by Bazil

INFESTATION OF THE IMPERIUM

“General Gramatoran,” Cyrus said composing himself. “What is the situation on Laurnic III?”

With a muffled panic stricken voice the general replied, “Sir, the 101st and 309th regiments have been virtually destroyed. Should I send reinforcements?”

“No”

“But, Sir, the other four regiments will be destroyed!”

“No buts, Send no reinforcements. Continue Bombardments.”

“Yes Sir,” the general replied.

Amadais cursed himself. He could be killed for lashing our at an officer like that. He rushed through the crowded streets of Cuthlan II to the main Administration building. When he got to the steps he looked back to see that Lord Cyrus was walking at a brisk pace for the Administration building. Amadais ran to the guard and demanded to see the High Tactician. The young trainee had no idea of what to do and told Cyrus to wait one minute.

The trainee came back with a black robed old man behind him. The robed man was completely concealed except from the hands which were amazingly young to be on the old tactician. Yet, they also show much wear on the old hands at the same time. As the old man spoke, fear rushed through Amadais... It was a inner unexplainable cold fear. “What do you want.... Amadais? You did call for me did you not?” The High Tactician’s scratchy voice rasped out.

“Yes.. There...Uh..” Amadais stumbled on his words as he was overcome with awe. The power radiating from this man was that of an ancient.

“Yes, speak up lad.” The voice rasped out in ear torturing sounds.

“Sir,...Uh...You must stop Lord Cyrus, his ego is going to loose a valuable mining planet.”

“It is?” called a familiar voice behind Amadais.

“Ahh .... It is Lord Cyrus!” the torturous voice beneath the robes continued, “Now maybe we can solve this slight misunderstanding.” The hours passed as the two people told their stories to the High Tactician. The High Tactician hissed his judgment. “I see no fault in the actions of Lord Cyrus.... But, I think that reinforcements would be necessary for capture.... There is always the choice of retrieving the soldiers.” At that moment the High Tactician looked up and the two pupils saw red flaming eyes accented by a mutilated face. “You are disssmissed,” the Tactician rasped.