Today we have a special treat for all or our loyal readers (yes, all TWO of you). Having watched his meteoric rise through the ranks of MOAG-ites everywhere, we thought it would only be fitting to give you an update on everybody's favorite One-eyed half-breed. We were there for the very first toss of the die, we rang out with joy at his first armor booted footstep. We even felt the pain of the first limb he lost! Yes, we are talking about Atrius Preim. At the height of his fame, he was one of the most important figures in the MOAG universe. He got all the chicks, had all the cool endorsment deals, even had his own shoe line ("Nothin' feels as fine as a PREIM!").
But just as quickly as he rose to the top, he vanished from the public eye amid rumors and innuendos. Where did he go? Was he dead? Was his extra big toe really just a prosthetic plastic stump? Well avid reader, fear not. Using the latest in investigative technology and time honored techniques used by the elite Midget-Ninja squads of the Gestapo, we are proud to bring to you the first intimate interview with Atrius since he left the public eye and the MOAG universe almost 2 years ago. So sit back, and enjoy as Salvaggio brings you the half-twisted, fully deranged mind of Atrius Preim.
SV - Well, we're here in Quarg's Narfler Hut on the backwater planet of Blagnrok IV, where they apparently take Conara stim sticks to gourmet levels, not that we've tried them. And we never will. But anyway, here we are with Atrius Preim, the great MOAG superstar. Atrius, I think I can speak for all of our loyal readers, the question we want asked is Why? Why did you leave?
AP - I don't really know. I was quite happy with what was going on in my life. I thought things were going great, and then the next thing you know, I'm lightyears away from everything. I just woke up one day and it was like I couldnt' do it anymore. It was like being in a long distance relationship.
SV - But where did you go?
AP - Oh, I was all over the place. I really think that the Black Gargon really did some bad things to me, but I liked it, you know? I kept telling everyone that I didn't have a problem, and unfortunately, the rest of the gang believed me, because they were all messed up by the Gargons they had. Except for... DAMMIT! I can't even remember his name! You see what it did to me? Here I am, can't even remember the name of someone who saved my life! And it's not like he's easy to forget! He was 15 feet tall, looked like a demon, a Kraii for those of you who might have seen one, and was a great friend. This is what I mean, the Gargon just messes you up man...
SV - Speaking of the Gargon, after you left, Kang Dragoon the President of Eden, released study after study, some of them very persuasive, claiming that the Gargons never existed. He claimed that you were a con-man who's luck had run out and that you went on the lamb to escape punishment for your crimes, most of which he claimed were performed on his subjects. What do you have to say about these allegations?
AP - That really hurt me. Kang was a good friend, at least I thought he was. He was very eager to help us out, Sentano, Dannis, Von and myself. When we were first finding the Gargons, and helping him with his "magic" brick, he was the best friend you could ask for. Always giving us supplies, helping us out with the latest tech. We thought he was a good guy...
SV - So if Kang was such a good friend, why did he say the things he did?
AP - It all started when Vot Kotes, the leader of Kang's elite Will Power special forces, started giving us more information and involving us in their plans than he did Kang. I think Kang was jealous. He was never offered a Gargon, and I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Should we have offered him one? Maybe, but he never went with us to find them. He wasn't one of the guys risking their lives, and so we never really thought about giving him one.
SV - So he took some low blows at you just because you didn't involve him in your plans? That doesn't say much about his moral character that he's been preaching in his current run for the Galactic Council...
AP - Now hold on. Yes, he was jealous, and it took me a while to understand why he did what he did, but Kang is a very smart guy. He didn't say those things just to discredit me. And really, I don't think it did much to hurt my public image.
SV - He had an alterior motive perhaps?
AP - Your a smart guy, and I bet you can figure it out. Let's just say that when we finally did agree to stop using the Gargons, we needed a secure place to keep them. That's all I'm going to say on the matter.
SV - So you're saying that Kang Dra...
AP - Drop it. Where done with that subject. Now, unfortunately, I have some business to attend to. So it looks like we're done here.
SV - Okay, okay. Thanks for your time, Atrius. But if you don't mind, just one more question?
AP - If you keep it quick.
SV - If I happened to come in tomorrow night, and sat down at this table, would you be here?
AP - Guess you'll have to come in tomorrow night to find out.
::
I watched him walk out of the bar, but I must admit, he didn't look like he was suffering from any ill effects from the mysterious gargons he claims to have been suffering from. In fact, he moved with cat-like speed and disappeared into the crowded streets with the ease and skill of one who was trained to move that way, and was very very good at it. But he left me with more questions than answers. Did the Gargons really exist? But the most intriguing thought of the night was this: Kang Dragoon was hiding something, and more importantly, Atrius Preim is in on it, perhaps leading it. Maybe he is out of the public eye, but I don't think he will be for long.
I went back to the bar the next evening, hoping to ask him some more questions. I was not surprised to find the table empty. But I was surprised to find a note. It simply said:
Don't come looking for me. I'll find YOU when you need to know.
Oh, and buy me dinner at least next time.
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9 comments:
It may interest our readers to know the name of the Kraii warrior who Atrius seems to have forgotten.
I think Kirnath should be the next person at the table. His Knowlwdge of the macaneon language isnt the best, but my sources say he would really like an interview.
I must say salvagio, an interview with Atrius Priem? This time you've outdone yourself.
Thanks Shadowire, it was quite a feet. I'm still suffering from the food offered at Quarg's, but I'm sure it'll pass soon.
Anyway, I think you need to get us an exclusive with Mr. Dragoon. Might get him to even comment on the boards once in a while.
“This is all of it?” Kang asked as he closed the lid of the data-pad with a gentle ‘click.’
“It is, my lord Kahn. Quarg, the proprietor of the establishment, assured us that it was the only copy. We did a thorough search,” he insisted. The ATAF agent was obviously deflated at having nothing else to offer. His once-in-a-lifetime chance to go before the leader of Shadow Clan was going not-at-all as planned –or at least the agent’s subtle expression suggested.
Kang scrutinized the man openly, producing a withering effect from the agent. At length the Kahn nodded in acknowledgement. “You have done well Lieutenant, you are dismissed.” The agent saluted smartly and turned on his heel, cursing himself inwardly for not doing more. The crisp uniform and officiously rigid posture could not hide the man’s subtle inner doubt. The faint feeling of frustrated self-disappointment, though well concealed, flowed out from the man like wispy tendrils –indiscernible to most, but obvious to an expertly trained mind.
“Do you think it will make a difference?” came the bodiless voice once the door had slid silently closed behind the agent.
“It matters not.” Kang relaxed his posture and reclined back into the plush cushion of the chair. “Few will believe the word of a writer-for-profit. Most can sense opportunism when they see it and those who can not, do not matter.”
“Nothing more than a sensationalist then, I see.” Kang was probably right, but there were always those far-flung few, who would believe, and would matter. It could become a problem if not contained.
“All the same.” Kang said as if in afterthought, turning toward the unseen-source of the voice, “better to have him monitored. If he becomes too …problematic, you know what to do. You are dismissed.”
If the agent’s feelings were faint to an expertly trained mind, the Kahn’s were non-existent –his expression betrayed nothing, and his mind less. He was a master at revealing only that which he meant to reveal –very clever for a human.
“As you wish,” Came the bodiless answer. ‘What to do’ was something he knew very well, and he was in no way troubled to do it. The owner of the voice passed to the outer door like a spirit in the night, unseen, unheard. As he approached the door, Kang called from across the chamber. “And Commander,” The unseen figure paused before opening the door. “Send my regards to Master Kator.”
Two pieces of masterly written blogs. It's great to be in the presences of good writers who do it for the fun of it.
Now for the interview of Amadeus Edwards.
CV-Excuse me, Mr. Edwards, may I ask you some questions?
AE-Who the &$%# are you and how did you get in my %$&#ing bathroom? (Sound of a very big gun firing.)
........... Well, that didn't go too well.
“Henesis!” came a boisterous call from across the noisy bar room. “Get yer ass over here and have a drink!”
Lieutenant James Henesis smiled and nodded at his three friends sitting at a small round table near the bar. The large klisk serving their beer dwarfed the three humans, making them look more like children than grown men.
“Come on, you lucky bastard, you’ve got some tellin’ to do!”
Terril smiled wide as he raised his frothy cup to his lips, holding it there until half the contents had drained down his throat.
The loud music pounded amid laughing and cursing as James weaved his way toward the friends who sat on adjustable stools that were designed to accommodate the bar’s widely-diverse patronage.
“Gorach! Bring the Lieutenant a glass!” Davin called to the klisk, as Henesis reached the table and began climbing into the barstool, which sat well below the seating positions of his peers. Getting comfortable, he pressed the protruding button, which was embedded in the front-underside of the armrest in just the right spot for his fingers to reach by curling around smooth edge. The stool rose easily on its post until he was face level with his grinning comrades.
“So, how’d it go?” Davin asked above the din, as James guided the stool forward until he could rest his elbows upon the table.
James couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at the memory of his meeting with the Kahn.
“It… went well,” was all he said. “Dragoon was glad to see what we brought him, grateful… in fact.”
“Really?” Terril asked, wiping the froth from his mustaches with the backside of his sleeve and grinning excitedly. “Does that mean promotions all around?” Sergeant Terril Dansa, a mere pup of twenty-two, was exceptionaly gifted in his craft, but lacked the experience of some of the more tenured members of the team –he'd eventually realize that, unlike the Planetary Defence Corps, promotions were not easy to come by. In the ATAF, more than any other military service, promotions were extremely difficult to earn.
“Err, maybe. Who knows?” he said chagrinned.
“Well, what did he say? Is he gonna’ send us out on this one? Do we get the ops?” Terril persisted.
“I don’t know,” James answered. “He didn't really feel in the mood for being interrogated. He was tired and dissapointed, and perhaps because of that, he was annoyed at the questions. “What makes you think he would tell me Terril?” he berated and imediately felt slightly sorry as the young sergeant sat back in his seat, looking taken-aback at the abrupt negativity.
“That’s not how things work, you know that.”
“I know, I know. What did he say then?”
“Well, you know how he is. He’s obviously a man of few words.”
He looked up to see Davin eyeing him dubiously. “He didn’t care at all, did he?” The big man asked asked rather bluntly.
James looked back at his cup and sighed.
“He didn’t seem to, no.”
“I knew it when you walked in here; I could see it in your eyes.” Davin said plainspoken.
Not for the first time since he’d known the man, James wondered why he had not risen higher in rank than Master Sergeant. Davin had almost uncanny powers of observation that bordered on the supernatural. Supernatural, Henesis smiled to himself, a strange word to choose when describing the unusual among the ATAF. Most would refer to the ATAF as 'being' supernatural.
“So, what now then?” Davin asked in frustration. “Nine months of intelligence gathering, and it’s just swept under the rug to be ignored? This is a load of klisk dung!”
‘Oh yea.’ James smiled to himself. Now he remembered why Davin had not risen past the mean rank of Master Sergeant. Keen as his senses were, he was ever ruled by his heavily muscled temper.
“Who knows what they’ll do with it. That’s up to the suits to decide, Master Sergeant. We worry about getting the stuff, do the fun work, and let them figure out what to do with it. Leave the boring stuff to them. Right?”
Davin glared at him unconvinced. It was obvious to the Master Sergeant that James was attempting to diffuse him –James knew as much. But as expected, Davin shrugged his massive shoulders and nodded.
“I guess you’re right Lieutenant. Let them lazy bastards do what they do.”
Frowning, James was about to change the subject when he was conveniently interrupted by the great klisk, returning with their drinks.
“A mug for the lieutenant.” The great klisk said in his equally great voice.
“Ah, thanks” James said grateful for the interruption. “Just what I need.”
“Will there be anything else, Sirs?” he asked as he set another pitcher of dark beer on the table with a solid ‘thunk.’
“I’m good,” Davin grunted.
“No, thank you Gorach.” James smiled gratefully as the waiter filled his tall frosty glass.
“Perfect,” he said looking approvingly at the rich frothy head, which had formed on the top of the brew. He picked up his glass and took a long healthy draught of the contents before putting his cup down with a manly belch.
Not to be dissuaded by a minor reprimand, Terril leaned forward in his chair once again, a quizzical look on his face. “So then..., we’re not getting promoted?”
James sighed again. “I don’t know Terril, maybe I’ll look into getting you a bonus or something, but I can’t promise anything.” It was the least he could do for all the crap they’d gone through to get the intel.
“I just want to finish the job,” Davin growled, ignoring his beer. “If they’re planning covert ops, I want to be in on it.”
“I’m sure they’re not stupid enough to send some green-team out on ops when were the ones whose been studying the mark for months-on-end. That would be ridiculous and I’m sure they know it.”
“That’s exactly what they’d do –no offense Lieutenant. That’s what they always do. We do the work and they pass the glory on to someone else, to some idiot who is… more qualified,” Davin snipped.
“Hmm,” was all James said in answer. How could he really argue with Davin’s logic; that did seem to be the way it happened more often than not. There really was no reasonable way around the bureaucracy. Still, he supposed, they had their reasons for what they did, and he was privy only to what was necessary for him to do his job. The less un-necessary information in his head, the less complicated his job was. Anything to make things easier was good for him.
“So did you tell them about the guy’s link to the ‘Freeworld Macaneon Press Corps’?
‘Damn it!’ he thought to himself. In fact, he had forgotten to mention it. “Of course Sergeant! Do you think I’m that big of an idiot? It’s in my general report.” He’d better make an addendum to the report before it went too far up the chain and became unreachable.
He downed his glass and reached for his data-pad when he felt his comm vibrate. He lifted his wrist, checked the ID, and cursed. ‘Weevil’ was all it said. ‘Damn it!’ He seemed to be saying that alot today. He activated the channel long enough to say, “I’m on my way.” he looked back up at his friends and smiled apologetically.
“I gotta go.”
“Already? But you just got here!” Terril protested.
Davin gazed at him in-depth and nodded. “We’re here if you need us.”
“Thank’s.” he said, truly grateful. Not waiting for the stool to get to ground level, he hopped off and strode quickly for the door.
He didn’t notice the figure that followed him, didn’t sense the presence of the ghost that flitted from shadow to shadow on his tail. In his hurry, he passed out of the bar and onto the causeway, making haste for the spaceport.
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