Alright, lets get this sucker off the ground and going. Here is the prologue in its entirety (2.4k words). My main questions that I want answered are as follows.
1. Does it make sense? Who everyone is? Who their motivations are? Actually, answer it anyway, with your perceptions of who everyone is.
2. What about the setup? Do you understand what is happening?
3. What could be made better? What did you particularly like? What needs work or needs to be expanded?
Illusions of Control
Prologue
The Grand Shaido of the Shai Empire glared across the table at his counterparts. His own Supreme Doctrine was irrefutable law in this regard, and if even the slightest hint of this meeting becoming known would implant dissention among the ranks of his ministers and underlings throughout the entirety of settled space. There was to be no contact with heretical outsiders, with no exceptions. The Doctrine had flawlessly served the Shai Empire for countless Galactic Rotations, keeping them alive and safe from the dangers of vile aliens and heretics alike. Yet here he stood in the company of those that he was sworn to shun and destroy.
However, he stayed his hand. Instead of immediately destroying these vile abominations in a torrent of cleansing fire and destruction, he listened. His fine ornamental robes folded on top of themselves as he shifted in his position, doubtless from the restless anxiety that played through his mind. Absent-mindely he stroked the ten graspers that hung limply around his mouth with his hand. Only his eyes remained visible to the others through the veil that completely covered his head, and he spent every moment he had, using those eyes that had made generals and clerics back down, to glare at the assembled beings in the room. His long sinewy arms rested down across his lap, but his digits still thrummed with obvious unease.
His eyes caught the sight of the Archon looking at him, and he focused his glare towards the being, trying to force the monstrous warlord to shift his gaze elsewhere. The Archon, the supreme commander of the Kassadar, was easily twice as tall as the Shaido was, and probably four or five times his own weight. The massive biped was covered head to toe in gold plated ceremonial armor. Resting across his shoulders, the neural linked railguns aimed up, toward the ceiling, but the Shaido knew that the Archon could activate the weapons in a moment. The Archon shifted his gaze elsewhere, and the Shaido was unsure if the Archon had shifted his gaze from fear or disinterest. The very thought of being in the same room as the alien heretic made his fingers clench and wrap around each other. The alien was an obvious mockery of life. Too few legs and his posture is completely wrong. Even the archon’s eyes, what he could see of them, were wrong. The wrong color, the wrong shape. All of it wrong.
But even the Archon was only a lesser perversion compared to the three hideous maggots basking on top of gilded palanquins to the side of the chamber. Each one was probably as bulky as the archon but rather having some sort of bipedal form, each looked like some vile worm. Each had coiled into a position where their heads rested in a posture that reminded the Shaido all too well of a predator coiling to strike. Tiny arms, looking almost atrophied sprung from below their glistening heads, each one looking comically small, being only single jointed and ending in two brittle digits. The arms rested now, coiled up against their bodies, as the bulky beings sat on the hover chairs, no doubt communicating to each other in their vile languages. Each head was covered with at least four or so eyes, and their mouths were nothing more but a thin crease against their face. Each was covered in rare glittering gems and jewels, and finely woven fabrics that spoke of their own impudent almost hedonistic beliefs. They were the Lorp-ral. But the Shaido knew them by a more common nick name. Game masters.
The Game Masters thrived after competition and their own belief in a creed known as the Universal Game. Such a blasphemous creed was insane in its own perverted way. The very idea that the universe is nothing more than some great game, the Shaido thought with disgust. They conquered planets and systems, viewing the subjugated inhabitants as nothing more but a new game piece to test and use in their battles. They fought each other, or occasionally united and battled other species. Always in the pursuit of great glory for themselves. The Dominion had hunted them down some rotations back, and killed almost the entirety of the population, deeming them too dangerous for existence. But even now the game masters slowly were infiltrating their way back into the galaxy. No doubt their desire for challenge and competition was what had brought them here. The Shaido looked away from them in disgust. He was definitely not here to deal with their kind. He had made that abundantly clear to the being that had gathered them here.
That being had only called itself The Emissary, and it was the reason that they were gathered here, in this Creed-forsaken hell-hole. They were far above the galactic rim, able to view the entire galaxy from end to end. It was a majestic sight, one that almost completely distracted the Shaido from the presence of the others. But even such a painfully beautiful sight could only mask their presence for a moment. He glared back at the others, keeping his gaze on them, watching for any signs of them falling back to their barbarous practices even here. The room was small and circular with a rounded table in the center and viewpanes along the walls. No obvious entrance or exit existed in the room. All he had known was for him to be at an appointed place at an appointed time. Then in a flash of light he was here. He suspected the same occurrence for the others assembled here.
He was becoming impatient for The Emissary to arrive. He didn’t know if the Emissary was part of the Shai Empire, a member of some honorless coalition like the Dominion, or even part of one of these parasite’s own sects. Whoever it was, they claimed to follow the Supreme Doctrine of the Shai, and seemed to be competent enough in the Doctrine’s laws and creeds to satisfy the Shaido. The Shaido didn’t believe for a second that the Emissary was an actual follower, but even the vague details offered in the Emissary’s proposition had proven to be enticing enough for his own aims.
Assuming the Emissary ever shows up, he thought. Every moment spent in the company of this filth was another moment he would have to spend in personal penance, to drive the unclean taint from his body. He had no desire to be here any longer than he had to be.
As if in answer to his prayers, the holo-projector in the room flickered to life. A brief moment later, and the outline of the Emissary appeared, hovering motionless above the central altar in the room. While the Shai Empire had access to such technology, this projector worked fluidly, flawlessly. The outline was perfect and the image remained motionless, framed in detailed resolution and not ever fading out of focus. Even then with such high quality, he couldn’t see the features of the Emissary, only the outline. The Shaido’s fingers uncoiled themselves, and then recoiled as he waited in anticipation.
The Emissary began speaking almost as soon as its image had materialized there. “Our plans are set to go forward. As you have no doubt figured out by yourself, you are not the only ones with a personal stake in this endeavor. I want your word of honor for this cause that you will not splinter into infighting and backstabbing until and only after our main goal is completed. If it cannot be given, then we cannot proceed.”
The Shaido remained motionless, even as the others did as well. Such an oath was unheard of. The Shai Empire united with infidels such as these? He would be lucky if he kept his head attached after making such a claim. Surely the clerics would see to a merciless execution the moment he made such an alliance known back at the homeworld. And no doubt the other filth in the room shared the same apprehension, Creed burn them all. The Kassadar were just as likely to unite with some other race as ascend to the heavens. Unlikely. The Game Masters on the other side would unite with anything provided the prize at stake was worth it. It would have to be worth it to get them to agree. Promises were almost meaningless to ones such as these. Would he have the chance, he would kill any of the others at the slightest opportunity and it was naïve foolishness to believe they wouldn’t do the same.
But still… The Emissary had hinted that the cause itself would be something that would send him down in the Great Codex as the greatest Shaido that had ever lived. Such an idea was quite appealing, but he was still wary of any tricks, of any false promises. The Emissary had only hinted about such a cause that could solidify his legacy. The Emissary had not provided anything set in stone.
“If the end game is worth it, you shall have our word,” one of the game masters said. The Shaido thought it might be Armar the Immovable. The being was a legend throughout military circles in the galaxy. On the occasions that the Shai Empire had been engaged in fights with the game masters, Armar had made it clear to everyone involved that his honorific was not simply a petty detail. The game master was a genius of the defensive game, and virtually every thrust of the Shai Military had been deftly turned aside with ease by Armar.
“But, be warned. No tricks. No false promises,” another of them spoke. This one the Shaido knew as being Pulram the Butcher. The polar opposite of Armar, Pulram was just as legendary, a tactician of the highest ability, his offensive attacks against the Shai Empire had forced a stalemate, when the game masters had at first seemed on the verge of collapse. The Butcher was unafraid of burning through his soldiers in order to find the tiniest advantage that he could. If rumors were to be believed, even his own compatriots saw him as an insane killer.
“We want solid details. A strategy cannot be formed until at least a modicum of intelligence is known,” the last said. Narman the Decisive. Not a master of defense, nor a master of offense. One of the greatest tactical minds possibly alive in the galaxy, the Shaido had to admit. The game master seemed to have almost a psychic ability to get into the mind of his opponent, out thinking and out planning, winning battles with only the lightest of forces. The Shaido had been surprised to see this one here. He had heard that the game master had been killed in an engagement against the Dominion Armada. Too much to hope for, he thought.
“And you shall have them. I don’t doubt that any one of you here is unmotivated to their own cause. And you shall not have to abandon them. All I ask is your support. The goal? The unmitigated destruction of the Dominion,” the Emissary proclaimed.
The Shaido’s eyes widened in surprise, but they shrunk back down to their normal size a brief moment later. The Dominion was the ultimate power in the galaxy. The organization was a massive conglomeration of species, sworn to their own blasphemous cause. Since the Shai Empire had first encountered them, the two sides had been thrown into a never ending conflict. A conflict that the Shaido suspected was seen as little more than a containment action by the Dominion. It almost seemed like the Dominion was simply satisfied in keeping the Shai inside their own little sector of space, stopping any encroachment made beyond their current boundaries, but otherwise apathetic to whatever they did to themselves or some other organizations.
The complete destruction of the Dominion had long been a dream of the Shai Empire, but one might as well try to kill a gargant, one of the apex predators back on the homeworld, with a stick, than destroy the Dominion. The Dominion was too advanced, too populous for any hope of destroying them. He glared at the emissary. He had at first been suspected the Emissary had simply wanted to strike several critical blows at the Dominion, but he now knew such thoughts to have been ignorance on his part. The Emissary had contacts and powers beyond the norm. Whoever it was, they were certainly ambitious. The destruction of the Dominion required a war on a scale almost unheard of. Hundreds of billions of soldiers, if not more. The Shai barely numbered some twenty billion, not enough to make a serious dent in the juggernaut that was the Dominion.
“How? Even with these… others,” he started. He almost had said something else, something that would have probably caused a fight to break out. “Even with them, the Dominion is far too large to deal with.”
The Archon glowered at him, but instead spoke to the Emissary. “The Shaido is correct. Dominion forces have expanded to greater proportions than are manageable. I will not send my own into that grinder again.”
The Shaido felt his own anger rise that the Archon had spoken his title in his own vile language and didn’t even notice that the Archon had agreed with him. The translator spoke the actual words into the Shaido’s mind, but simply the fact that the Archon had spoken such was vileness beyond belief. Before he could reprimand the vile wretch for his impudence the Emissary spoke.
“Such matters will no longer be an issue soon. Everything is in hand.”
“Words mean little. Actions, more so,” the Shaido said.
“Then I shall lay it out for you in its entirety and you shall see,” the Emissary said. And the Emissary delivered on its words.
Even before the Emissary had finished speaking, the Shaido’s mind was racing. Possibilities were constantly forming, his own Doctrine fading to the back of his mind. The destruction of the Dominion. If he managed things properly, kept the knowledge of the presence of the Kassadar and the game masters out of the knowledge of virtually any but his most trusted advisors… It could work. It could definitely work. It was now as inevitable as the rising sun.
