Beddgelert
08-04-2009, 18:42
5am, 8th of April, Gwehelog, Dominion of the Silures (Transylvania), Beddgelert
Four hours into his shift, and Watch Commander Cadrix was grinding his second dreadful Drapoel cigarette into the dirt under his military issue boot. He clapped his hands together, still unsure whether it was just cold enough that he ought to have worn gloves. He had narrowly decided against it in order that his comrades not think less of him... this was his first rotation as Watch Commander, after all. Adjusting the strap by which a Garda-version Md.65 semi-automatic assault rifle hung from his neck, the young Siluran turned to make his way back inside, stopping by the door to tap on the thermometer that hung beside it.
Two degrees Celsius. Not even freezing, and here he was thinking about gloves!
The Gwehelog-1 Research Reactor was one of the Democratic Republic's first and most prominent nuclear facilities, having been established with significant Tsarist involvement during the Principality, and was now some thirty-five years old. With the end of Kievan support, Akink's atomic energy and defence programmes had come under significant strain, operated by a tiny core of educated personnel with limited resources and great demands from the state, which wanted to develop reliable power in light of declining oil and coal reserves and political isolation, and a powerful deterrant to protect it's precarious position in the community of nations.
One thing in abundance was security, of course, but this had over time developed until military and even paramilitary personnel were doing the work of nuclear technicians and other professions beyond the scope of their original training. The only positive, so far as Akink was concerned, remained that this tight security was part of considerable GSIC efforts to conceal from the world a host of negatives.
"Nice day." Said the Commander on returning to the control centre. "Cadnodewin, watch your station."
With his booted feet up on the desk, Cadnodewin gave a yawn and flapped his hand idly towards a bank of dials and gauges at his side. "No, don't worry, it's always doing that." He said, presumably in reference to one dial towards which Cadrix had nodded. Its needle kept kicking up from a dead-point to some way around the gauge before falling back, limp, almost as if it were caught in a draft that gusted periodically.
"We checked it manually" Cadnodewin added, seeing his Watch Commander's unsatisfied facial contortion, "the valve's fine, open 'bout one-third" he tapped another gauge, "as should be."
Three hours later
Sirens cried out in Gwehelog as bewildered citizens watched the passage of several hundred National People's Guard, GSIC, and other state agencies personnel through the streets of their city, bound for the surrounding hills, in which the Gwehelog research reactor stations were sited. Before long, the People's Police -gendarmerie of the BDR- were ushering people back into their homes and FUG armoured cars in dark blue colour scheme were patrolling the streets, urging calm and complicity with instructions.
A major heat ploom at Gwehelog-1 had the whole facility sealed by the military, and throughout the morning NPG NBC reconnaissance and clean-up vehicles rolled through the ghostly Siluren capital, a city of almost 320,000 people, and up into the hills.
Four hours into his shift, and Watch Commander Cadrix was grinding his second dreadful Drapoel cigarette into the dirt under his military issue boot. He clapped his hands together, still unsure whether it was just cold enough that he ought to have worn gloves. He had narrowly decided against it in order that his comrades not think less of him... this was his first rotation as Watch Commander, after all. Adjusting the strap by which a Garda-version Md.65 semi-automatic assault rifle hung from his neck, the young Siluran turned to make his way back inside, stopping by the door to tap on the thermometer that hung beside it.
Two degrees Celsius. Not even freezing, and here he was thinking about gloves!
The Gwehelog-1 Research Reactor was one of the Democratic Republic's first and most prominent nuclear facilities, having been established with significant Tsarist involvement during the Principality, and was now some thirty-five years old. With the end of Kievan support, Akink's atomic energy and defence programmes had come under significant strain, operated by a tiny core of educated personnel with limited resources and great demands from the state, which wanted to develop reliable power in light of declining oil and coal reserves and political isolation, and a powerful deterrant to protect it's precarious position in the community of nations.
One thing in abundance was security, of course, but this had over time developed until military and even paramilitary personnel were doing the work of nuclear technicians and other professions beyond the scope of their original training. The only positive, so far as Akink was concerned, remained that this tight security was part of considerable GSIC efforts to conceal from the world a host of negatives.
"Nice day." Said the Commander on returning to the control centre. "Cadnodewin, watch your station."
With his booted feet up on the desk, Cadnodewin gave a yawn and flapped his hand idly towards a bank of dials and gauges at his side. "No, don't worry, it's always doing that." He said, presumably in reference to one dial towards which Cadrix had nodded. Its needle kept kicking up from a dead-point to some way around the gauge before falling back, limp, almost as if it were caught in a draft that gusted periodically.
"We checked it manually" Cadnodewin added, seeing his Watch Commander's unsatisfied facial contortion, "the valve's fine, open 'bout one-third" he tapped another gauge, "as should be."
Three hours later
Sirens cried out in Gwehelog as bewildered citizens watched the passage of several hundred National People's Guard, GSIC, and other state agencies personnel through the streets of their city, bound for the surrounding hills, in which the Gwehelog research reactor stations were sited. Before long, the People's Police -gendarmerie of the BDR- were ushering people back into their homes and FUG armoured cars in dark blue colour scheme were patrolling the streets, urging calm and complicity with instructions.
A major heat ploom at Gwehelog-1 had the whole facility sealed by the military, and throughout the morning NPG NBC reconnaissance and clean-up vehicles rolled through the ghostly Siluren capital, a city of almost 320,000 people, and up into the hills.