Eric Johnson

Dawn on Moresque at FOE Embassy

Heat. Blistering Heat. Archdemon Alastor closed his eyes and allowed the heat to suffuse his being, as in the distance the sun climbed over the horizon. He felt the heat gradually dissipate as the window in his office slowly polarized and finally went opaque; his eyes remained shut however until he heard the satisfying clunk of the thorlium coated blast door latching into place. Such was life on Moresque, the planet orbitted a mere space square from Wren's primary making the planet a furnace, one did not venture out of doors during the day here not unless one tired of life.
Alastor turned to his desk and sat as one of his aides entered his office and handed him a stack of reports. Alastor glanced over them as he reached to his computer and uncoiled a datajack and gingerly plugged it into the silver and ceramic socket just behind his right ear. He read military readiness reports as the mind/machine interface forcefed his mind raw data on production output and population growth. Alastor delved further into the interface setting production queues, and assigning patrol routes then Alastor mentally frowned.... Something set off an alarm in his mind, he retraced his path through the data, flying over files he finally found the one that had triggered his uneasiness and opened it. He glanced over the file and had a hardcopy made as he closed the file and flew back to the recesses of his own mind. The effect of the rapid withdrawl from the interface was extreme nausea but Alastor fought the sensation down as he ripped the datajack from behind his ear and picked up the hardcopy, there it was in black and white

Starport Control Report

FOE Doom Prophet landed 0300 hours Thursday Week 36

Rage filled Alastor and he lashed out at his aide, "WHY wasn't I informed of the Doom Prophet's arrival!"
"You were asleep Archdemon, it was late, I didn't...." stammered the aide. "Imbecile!" spouted Alastor as he keyed his intercom, "Caligula get in here now!"
Minutes later Caligula, Alastor's lieutenant governor, entered with a guard to his right and left. "You bellowed m'lord?" said Caligula as he bowed at the waist. Alastor growled "Enough of your insolence old fool, Methuselah is here!"
"Methuselah, HERE, why?" asked Caligula. "It gets worse," said Alastor "he arrived four hours ago. Have the state guest quarters readied, a banquet, pleasure slaves, lotus perhaps. Also muster the garrison, full dress uniforms and have them ready for review. Now everyone out!"

As the office cleared Alastor composed himself by thinking of the elaborate methods of torture he would personally use on that aide when this whole thing was over. He took a deep breath and pressed the vidcom button, as the small vidcom screen slid out it filled with the face of Maniac Darth Maul commanding officer of the Doom Prophet.
"Why if it isn't Archdemon Alastor!" taunted Maul "How can I help you Alastor?". "Welcome to Moresque, Maniac to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" said Alastor. "State buisness," replied Maul "High Priest Methuselah expressed an interest in visiting, oh I advised him against coming to this little hellhole but he wouldn't listen." said Maul as he exposed row upon row of sharp teeth, "He's been waiting, oh my, four hours now for you to welcome him.". "Tell the High Priest I'm on my way. Alastor out." said Alastor as he pushed a button signalling for his personal flitter.

*****

Devestators are the epitome of Foelian technology, sleek, deadly, elegant in form and function and the Doom Prophet was no exception. Alastor was impressed with the vessel and the efficiency and decorum of her crew as he was escorted to the High Priest's quarters. Something was amiss aboard the ship however, tension hung in the recycled air and a sense of urgency filled the crew. Alastor knew this was partly due to the presense of the High Priest but something else was happening here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Finally Alastor and the small detail of guards surrounding him arrived at the High Priest's quarters. Alastor was admitted immediatly upon his arrival, as he entered the large state room he quickly fell to both knees and kowtowed before the High Priest. "Your Excellency your faithful servant Alastor begs forgiveness for his insolence and hopes that you will grant him the blessing of an audience." grovelled Alastor as he studied the bright colored floor mosaic beneath his nose. "Rise my child." boomed a powerful voice that could only belong to the High Priest. Alastor did rise only to find himself face to face with the High Priest. The High Priest wore the traditional robes of his station, they were red like blood with black trim and piping, the hood of the garment was thrown back to reveal the High Priest's face. He was young by Foelian standards no more than a couple centuries old. A pair of jet black horns jutted from his head, they were long and reminded Alastor of an animal called the gemsbok from the human homeworld. These added significantly to the High Priest's height which Alastor estimated to be a little over three meters measuring from the tips of his horns to his cloven hooves. "Archdemon Alastor how magnanimous of you to grace us with your presence." said Methuselah drawing Alastor from his inspection. "My apologies your excellency I was just informed of your arrival." stammered Alastor as he tried to save face. "No need for apologies Alastor, I've been using the time to review reports on Embassy." said Methuselah as he moved to a desk immediatly in front of Alastor. "I see that the subjugation of the native species proceeds well, I'm sure Arch Priest Marid is particularly pleased with the steady flow of slaves you send to Citadel of Chaos. However Alastor, I am concerned for the safety of Embassy, your defenses in my opinion are minimal at best, I daresay the Doom Prophet could reduce Embassy to a smouldering lump of slag, why Alastor?" asked Methuselah. "I....I will remedy the situation immediatly High Priest." stammered Alastor. Methuselah laughed "It will take months to build those defenses Alastor it is not a situation that can be fixed immediatly. I have also noticed that it has been several months since you have made a sacrifice to Foebius....." said Methuselah. "I CAN fix that immediatly High Priest." said Alastor. "So can I Alastor." said Methuselah as four brawny demons grabbed Alastor and held him spread eagle over Methuselah's desk. "What!?! What is the meaning of this!!!" screamed Alastor as he struggled to free himself. "Negligence can be forgiven Alastor, but heresy can not. The universe is on the verge of a new century and the Foelian Empire has plans for it. There is no room in the Empire for those who refuse to give tribute to our Dark Lord. " said Methuselah. "I will give tribute excellency! Please! I will give tribute!!!" screamed Alastor. "Sssshhhh, I know you will Alastor. You will make the ultimate sacrifice." said Methuselah as he punched through Alastor's chest and produced the heart within. Methuselah closed his eyes and whispered a litany to Foebius. The heart disappeared and maniacal laughter echoed through the ship. Methuselah opened his eyes "Foebius has spoken to me, henceforth Embassy shall be known as Altar of Pain. I shall remain here to direct the colony. Maniac Maul I am giving you command of the Fallen Angel Fleet. Your orders are to proceed to Bastion of Evil, Blood Priest Whisper is awaiting your arrival. Foebius has given his blessing, Operation Punitive Deception cannot fail.

THE END