Hand of Andros

(( Takes place 20.1.2007 ))

Face of evil

Traditionally the room would have been shrouded in deep shadows with ominous whirrings emanating from the machinery. The form present would have been crouched over a monitor or a crystal ball whispering mad words to no one in particular. However times change and so does the face of evil. Sometimes so much that in the end it becomes an excercise in futility to try to define evil itself.

Zirgei Kraft was sitting relaxedly in his reclining chair and sipped whiskey occasionally. He had a tobacco jacket and his hair and moustache were as black as ever. A perfectly enviable theaterical level surround system was playing soft jazz and out of the sixteen monitors on the wall ten was on. Nine had a head on it, the tenth was displaying a football game. Paragon City 49'ers versus Pittsburgh Steelers, the current champions. The rest were on but displayed only the letter A surrounded by a circle.

Two heads were talking in rapid success. They were arguing. Zirgei paid attention only so much that he appeared to be listening. This was the beginning of a meeting and this dance had long since become a permanent feature in the coreography. This time they were bickering over hardware wiring. Ever since Darksparrow had shown to Zirgei how to speed up his machinery these two computer experts had had a divided vision whether or not it was a feasible solution in the long run. Zirgei smiled by himself. Baby sparrow. Her scan data had been most intriguing.

Three minutes had been wasted and Paragon City 49'ers had got a touchdown. It was attributed to Samuel Blayne. Zirgei checked his notes and nodded. The bet was going well so far. Michel Sanders cut in. Dark skin, golden yellow hair combed half over her face to create an image of shyness. She was nothing but. "Stockmann! Kawamura! Enough! Continue your disagreement later. We have matters to discuss." Everyone fell silent instantly.

Michel continued. "Kraft, you called the Hand of Andros to convene. What was the reason?" With a flick of a finger Zirgei activated his microphone. "I have analyzed the preliminary data from our time traveling friend. It seems likely that Darksparrow was enhanced partially with the ND technology. Her own account suggests that my son will enhance her to ensure her survival." He kept a small pause noting that Magnus Strong was paying special attention now. That was expected.

"There is also evidence of your work present, Magnus. The cybernetics in baby sparrow remind me of the eye plates you made for my children. She needs to regulate her power flow just as my son. Your work will live on fifty years into the future." They both smiled. It was a goal for each of them, to see their work and accomplishments as scientists and inventors outlast themselves by decades. "Which reminds me.", continued Zirgei, "My son contacted me this morning. He took last night to a hospital a girl that he thinks has also energy output regulation problems. First name Nicole, license name Royal Flush. He asked if I could make her an eyeplate too if she needs one." It had been decided to leave Zirgei's children to think that it had all been their father's inventions.

Magnus nodded his bald head and almost flung his thick glasses to the floor. "I will consider it. I am currently working on something." Michel cut in again. She had a tendency to compress the meetings and was the almost sole reason that they lasted only a finite time. "How is your operational ND unit performing, Kraft?"

Now Zirgei had to think just how much to reveal. And how much to keep to himself, for now. "There are performance issues with the ND core embedded in the positronic brain. I will go to Paragon City to my son's wedding tomorrow. I will take a look at ND-Nightsparrow at the same time." There was, he reasoned, no need to share what exactly he thought was at fault with the ND unit. A purged memory core would work as an explanation with baby sparrow and so it would with the Hand of Andros.

Ontario's Voice spoke, represented this time by a still image of Max Headroom. "What of Steel Guard's replacement? We need a foothold in Paragon City." Michel agreed. "Losing Irons was a hard blow. You claimed your offspring warranted monitoring, Kraft. Is this under control?" Once again Zirgei weighted half truths and omissionable facts. "I have enough surveillance presence. Do not worry." There was now less need to monitor the events with Andrea gone. Such a shame.

An old but yet ageless Delhian man lifted his gaze. An outsider would have said that he had been sleeping but the group knew that Ken Sawaputra had just been biding his time. "Leave Irons's replacement to me. I have it covered. I will present a name for a review in a week." Three sentences. It was acknowledged that Ken had now done his part of the meeting. From now on he would listen only.

It was Kawamura's turn to speak. "I have now three operatives trained and prepared." With the Japanese businessman it was likely to mean conditioned. "Have you recruited yours yet, Kraft-san?" There was a slight nervous vibration in the fingers holding the whiskey glass. "My son is not yet ready. He will need the approval and backing of his woman. It should be easier with Melanie, his Nadia was too restrained and unpredictable. Give it more time, first the wedding. Then I will talk to them." His hopes had been with Andrea. Now they rested with Andre.

"Is there anything else to talk about for now?", queried Michel. No one said a word. The Max Headroom image came alive and soundlessly shook its head. "We will convene when needed.", she concluded. "A for Andros." All the screens went black with the red anarchy-like emblem shining on them. Zirgei finished his whiskey and got up. Maybe he should travel to Paragon City already tonight. There were quite a few affairs to tend to.

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

Last edited by Coile on Mon Feb 12, 2007 12:17 pm; edited 1 time in total

(( Takes place 7.2.2007 ))

Need to know

The laptop screen folded out like a sheet of paper multiplying the viewable area considerably. It was divided neatly into three rows with five boxes on each. Fifteen red A's with a line circling them. Nine came alive. Zirgei was sitting in his hotel room drinking the morning coffee with whiskey on side that he had ordered from the room service. He was looking at the upper left corner square and Michel Sanders.

A female with dark skin and golden yellow hair hiding half of the face spoke with authority. "You have been on silent running for over two weeks, Kraft. I expect the explanation to be far more graver than little domestic trouble." Zirgei just offered an amused smile and tasted the whiskey. "I have been hard at work, Michel. My operational ND-unit. It encountered some troubles." This was how the game was played. Never lie. Never contradict yourself. Just keep a scorecard on the facts that you allow to form the illusion of truth. Only reveal what the others expected they needed to know.

"Yes. A surprisingly defect-riddled body of work from you, Kraft. Is it all sorted out now?" This was an intricate situation. There was conflicting interests at play, some needing the knowledge of the future, some needing the absence of it. "The AI that was installed into ND was larger than anticipated. I had to detach almost all of its memory modules to allow the AI to work." There was an indecipherable glint in Michel's eye. "Are you saying that the memories are inaccessible?"

This all he had rehearsed in his head multiple times. "For now. The AI needs to learn to compress itself on its own before the memory modules can be brought back online." He drank the whiskey and as an afterthought remarked, "Except the memories relating to my son's fiancé's trial. Baby sparrow thinks they may help her in her own task."

The pronounced casualness in Michel's expression was a startling revelation to Zirgei. He had said too much. Her nostrils flared minutely and the muscles on her forehead tensed before she could relax them again. "Really." It was an acknowledgement of stated facts, no less. Zirgei smiled and thought quickly. For reasons unknown the Miasma-Explora member of hand of Andros was interested in Melanie's trial. Any threat is best countered by nullifying the intended target.

"Those memories seem to be affected by a compression error and are very hard to retrieve. My estimate is that it will take several days if not weeks to recompile the data. Assuming it can be done. We will have to wait and see." Was this enough? His method was to put out one fire at a time. If this pacified the situation he had many more days to plan his next move. "I see.", was the laconic answer. Everyone stayed silent sensing the tension. It never paid to get involved unless one's own interests were directly in line.

Michel presented a smile that had a glimpse of relief in it. "I trust you to keep us posted, Kraft." Zirgei responded to the smile with one of his own. "I will withou fail deliver all relevant facts in timely fashion." Relevant to them, according to him. More important that concealing the information was regulating it properly. For example, the Hand of Andros did not have to receive the complete scans of baby sparrow's cybernetic implants. Just enough to satisfy the curious.

Baby sparrow's indignation had been almost palpable. Too late she had figured out how much she and the Nightsparrow AI depended on him now. There was a balance too. If the situation deteriorated enough the ND unit would be just shutdown and baby sparrow would cut her losses. Transferring the AI back to a mainframe would have to be risky while the benefits of a mobile unit would persuade her to accept the limitations of memory functionality. If the balance was tipped too much on negative baby sparrow might attempt to retrieve the AI regardless of dangers.

The meeting was now circulating on other matters and they rarely held Zirgei's interest for long. What the others were doing did not really concern him unless he needed their help for something. His own goal for now was to contain a time traveler within allowable limits while presenting her an illusion of freedom and at the same time protect her from a group that would exploit her far more gravely than he was. Sooner or later Hand of Andros would need to be presented with a diversion.

When the agenda had been dealt with Zirgei was ready to leave back home. Briefly he wondered whether he should mention that his son had gone missing to another dimension just the day before. Then again, the principle remained.

Tell them only what they needed to know.

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

Last edited by Coile on Mon Feb 12, 2007 12:18 pm; edited 1 time in total

(( Takes place 28.2.2007 ))

Riftwork

The assembly of Hand of Andros was almost complete this time. Only three monitors were sporting the encircled letter A indicating absences. This left twelve avatars occupying their little boxed kingdoms and one screen alternating security feeds from various locations. Some on the farm, some elsewhere. Zirgei's mood was not the best. In fact he was nervous. Things were at the moment, truth be told, rather bleak.

This time Stockmann and Kawamura had argued about the feasibility of various possible modifications to Hand of Andros communication network. Laconically Zirgei thought that when all other subjects were spent they would argue over which hue of yellow would be the best colour for the Sun. Still even those frequent squabbles were not to be overlooked. They were part of the on-going process that set the moods and the frame of the mind for the group in whole.

After the initial and traditional bickering between 'the verbal duelists' as Zirgei called them there had been the usual list of items. Comparing research notes, swapping some technical expertise, giving short summaries about recent projects. It was what they were there for, to bring together their common thirst for knowledge and their contributions to technological advancements. They also shared the common approach to research ethics. It mostly happened to other people. Bans and restrictions against things like Rikti tech were widely understood but seldom abided by.

Some could have called them a band of renegade inventors or even mad scientist. Perhaps they were. But they were no global threat nor did they seek to conquer anyone. All that they wanted was to advance in their own fields uninhibited by moral or ethical expectations of the surrounding society. Just a band of likeminded equals. Without a clear leader and grander ambitions that would be all that they would ever amount for. Every now and then there had been gambits and hints of powerplay. They had been undermined by Zirgei and his allies.

Michel Sanders waited until Nightingale, one of the few heroes among their numbers, was finished with her recount about an operation against an English band of technovillains. The confiscated pieces of their remote controlled robo-robbers could prove interesting. Especially Chiang Norrero of North Inc. showed great interest. He wanted to see if he could implement the principles with his own field. Remote controlled animals could hit it big.

When all relevant things had been said Michel turned to look at Zirgei's picture on her array of screens. "Your status report, Kraft." She had gathered some information from other sources and it made her slightly more snappy than was usual for her. Several things that should have been under tight control were not.

Ontario's Voice was represented by a slowly revolving Rubik's cube that solved itself seventeen times a second. Now it came to halt pointing a corner at Zirgei's left eye, moving to adjust if Zirgei moved. It still kept solving itself.

Zirgei assumed a relaxed lean in his chair. He took a sip of whiskey before speaking, considering once more what all he should reveal to others. The small signs made it clear that he was expected to give a full account. Withholding information right now would be a bad move. At least obvious information. It would have to be played by the ear what counted as obvious. Without clearing his throat or showing other signs of unsureness he began.

"There have been no sign of my ND-N unit. I do not know if she is active or not. If yes, baby sparrow may have found a way to prevent the unit from contacting me. I worry. There may be something wrong. I have no knowledge of their whereabouts for the last three weeks." He kept a small calculated pause. "I hope they are still in Paragon City." The rest of his report would not be much better news so he wanted to dispense the biggest impact first. There were two time travelers unaccounted for running around, with futuristic technology at their disposal and acting under unascertained motives. It was as good a distraction as he managed for the rest of his presentation.

It was working too. Linnea Starr removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "You said you would keep your eye on the temporal fugitives, Zirgei." For now she was the only one to speak but the eyes of the others shared the uncomfortable dread. Their minds were already seeking alternatives and solutions, ways to manage damage control. Zirgei continued.

"My son has returned from another world where he was forced to stay against his wishes. Several of his team mates took part in his retrieval." Now Michel cut in unceremonously. "Yes, we have all heard about the Tempest virus. Your son could have destroyed the world. According to my sources, however, there is no indication of the virus to have traveled transdimensionally." Zirgei kept from smiling. 'Sources' would no doubt equal to a call to the hospital. Michel was bluffing to know more than she did. Good.

"His control plate malfunctioned. He says it caused brain damage. He says his powers are now gone." Zirgei stared at Magnus Strong who smiled apologetically on his screen. "I am sorry Zirgei but the plates for your children were meant to be just temporary, until they learned to manage their own energies themselves. They were not designed to withstand hundreds of combat situations." Before Zirgei could reply Chiang Norrero spoke. "I can take a look at the medical results. But hopes are not high. If your son speaks the truth and cannot utilize the powers, the damage is likely to be permanent." Zirgei just sighed. The distraction had not been successful enough. They were paying attention.

Kawamura bowed his head. "How fares your operational team, Kraft-san?" How indeed. Zirgei sipped some whiskey. Andre was useless now without his combat abilities. Melanie was on trial and likely to be jailed for life. Even if his son returned to the dark-skinned Nadia it would be of no help since also Nadia was permanently injured and out of action. He had only one card to play. "There is my children's group, Silent Tempest. They follow my son now. Those who stay will be loyal to him and through him I can use them." Michel's visible eye was sharp and cold. Zirgei realized this was not an instance to hold back. "Although he currently is on a break from the group. Some internal disagreement's over the death of a fool. No matter. They will reconcile and I will talk to my son." Something in Michel's posture disturbed Zirgei. He had a good eye for such things even if in his later years he had grown quite reclusive.

"How fares your grandprogeny, Zirgei?" The speaker was Shaana Niebelung. She looked like a sixteen years old girl but considering the amount of time that she had been in Hand of Andros either her avatar was a construct like Voice of Ontario, or she was older than she looked. Some thought she could be in fact much, much older. The whiskey glass got empty. Was this just an unlucky plethora of condemning questions or an arranged crosssexamination? There was no way to tell. "The baby is completely healthy and completely human." This remark finally brought the tense calm to an end as questions and assumptions started flying. They were mostly focused on ascertaining the credibility of the information. Everyone in the group knew that the child should at least carry a latent mutation in order to produce, in time, Darksparrow, their time traveling treasury of future technology. It lasted a full minute until Michel brought the turmoil to an end.

"Silence." They all fell quiet. "We need more information about this. Kraft will provide it in the next meeting. Our meeting agenda is hereby fullfilled. Meeting has adjourned." She kept a short pause. "A for Andros." All but the security feed monitor went blank.

Zirgei poured another glass and considered. Things were sliding out of control and his position to manage matters within the group was worsening. He would have to be extremely careful with his next few moves.

Elsewhere not all of the screens had gone out.

Michel looked at three avatars and briefly brushed her hair from the hidden right-side half of her dark skinned face. It was to no avail as the golden hair just fell back to its place."Well." It was meant to be a question, a request for comments. Kawamura spoke. "We are fools to wait for Kraft-san to gather operatives. He was opposed to the idea from the beginning. Now he just stalls." Michel tapped her nose. "What do you suggest?"

Kawamura bowed respectfully. "I do not trust Kraft-san to operate super individuals. There is a sound reason why we do not employ supers in masses. Only those who belong to us or serve us. Silent Tempest would become a problem. If there is a rift now I suggest we widen it. Separate the son from the group. Then we bring him to work for us. Not his father."

Michel laughed. It was a rare occurrence. It was a soft laughter but devoid of any warmth and brought chill running the backs of the others. "I like it. Very well, I will put it motion. Without his license he will lose the membership of his group. Then we just fill the void, new goals, new assets, new identity."

The Rubik's cube of Voice of Ontario had slowed down and solved itself once in every forty seconds. The rotation was very slow, almost unnoticeable. "What about his friends? They will grow curious when the membership terminates. Besides, they may reconcile. Either side initiating contact could be hazardous."

"Kraft has told us about his son.", said Michel. "He is moody loner with dependency addiction. If he is separated from his group the safety net lies elsewhere. His wife. He will not make contact. Initially we must rely on the rift just staying as it is but we must bring about safety measures. Things to discourage his group."

The Rubik's cube shifted into neon colours. "His wife may try to correct things."

"No. Her rival in love belongs to the group. She will be pleased about the rift. It will work for our advantage."

"We need a reliable mechanism for observation and affecting the situation. We cannot rely on Zirgei to provide us with up to date information."

"The replacement of Thomas Irons is in place, and so are the related operatives. We have a visual. We will use them to keep Kraft's son busy long enough."

"What about the assassination attempt?", asked Kawamura. "The life of Melanie Kraft and her unborn child are in danger."

This brought a grim look on Michel's face. "It is unfortunate that we cannot affect the trial. Her release into home arrest and the subsequent leniency on the conditions makes it very hard for us to keep her alive. And it is paramount. She must live, and so must the child. If it is true that the current unborn lacks the mutation she must survive at least long enough to give birth to the mutated child who will produce our temporal fugitive. The threat must be neutralized."

"How do we do it?", queried Voice of Ontario. Michel's reply was dry. "The old fashioned way. If we cannot ensure by other means the end to the hostile intents Pistol will be nullified. I have sufficient contacts."

In her own screen the woman known only as Charisma was filing her nails and looked most uninterested by the conversation. No one made the mistake of buying the impression. She was one of the most recent recruits but already her cunning intellect had been noted. Her pragmatic approach to problem solving had earned her a position in this small cabal within Hand of Andros. "Why do we need Nightsparrow, save for her procreation abilities? Why bother with Kraft's son? It makes no sense."

They all fell silent. By a wordless agreement it was left for Michel to decide whether or not Charisma would be told the deeper secrets at this point. However time was not yet right. She was too new. She needed some more blood in her hands, shows of commitment before she would be made their equal. "There are reasons. It will suffice for now." The annoyed look told of displeasure but Charisma was not a fool enough to challenge Michel. At least not yet.

After a brief silence Kawamura spoke again. "What about this Omega group?" Now Michel Sanders looked tired. "Unknown. We have no contacts in military. We lack contacts in awfully lot of places and unless we want a direct conflict with Kraft's wing we cannot readily acquire them. For now we have to use what we have which is not a whole lot. Kraft did not mention Omega at all so we can assume quiet at that front. Hopefully Coile losing his powers will discourage them using him much. We need him separated from anything that he knew as extensively as possible. I will work on that. Is there anything else?"

Charisma, Kawamura and Voice of Ontario remained quiet. "Adjourned. A for Andros."

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

Andre of Andros

Zirgei ran his hand through his black hair and wondered when it would start greying. If there was a genetic disposition towards that he would have been all silver years back. Things that he had nominal control over were slipping and those that he did not were already far beyond his reach. Sullen and quiet he waited for his turn to speak. He liked to go last because then he had the benefit of the rest of the meeting. As both ammunition and time to finalize his presentation.

This time, again, there was no avoiding the truth and no down-spinning the reality. The situation was just that bad. A whiskey glass was the only thing that gave him comfort at the moment. While the meeting dealt with interesting issues there had to be some definite effort put into the concentration. The only thing that grabbed Zirgei's attention was Charisma's prototype of a cross-dimensional locator. He had long since deduced that ND-4 was either destroyed or transported into another world. All technical details aside this sounded like his best shot to find the missing robot ever since she had gone missing in last June.

Michel Sanders was as efficient as ever. Whatever could be said of her way to do things at least her skill in herding fifteen other scientists was invaluable. She had a knack of getting to the bottom of things swiftly and cutting drivel right off. Stockmann had barely finished introducing his new main frame architecture when Michel already went forward. "Kraft. You had some unpleasant news."

Unpleasant, indeed. This time Zirgei cleared his throat. "I believe my potential operatives have been compromised." Michel observed her main rival calmly. Was he onto her dealings with Freedom Corps and one certain hero license? It was possible, but not probable. She let him proceed on his own pace now, there was no reason to put up pressure just yet. Zirgei continued after a taste of his golden liquor. "My son suspects that his wife is controlled by a malicious dream entity. Seeing how it is the main principle of the defense in her trial I find the suggestion viable."

Just as Zirgei kept a dramatic pause Kawamura hurried to ask, "You used a plural form, operatives. Who else are you referring to?" The reply was short. "My son. Except he is not my son. He is someone else." For a moment none spoke. When it looked like Zirgei would offer no more information on his own Michel spoke up. "Explain. Is it a switchling?"

There was no tremor nor emotional wavering in his voice when he answered. "I do not know for certain. Either the man is not my son or he has been tampered with. I will not disclose proof but I have confirmation both from Andre and his wife. This of course changed a lot of things and makes them unfit to be my operatives until the deviations have been countered. If there has been a physical switch the question is where is my son. If his thought patterns have been altered the question is to what extent, for what purpose and by whom."

"Are you absolutely certain, Kraft?" Even while she assumed that she maintained her composure excellently Zirgei thought he saw marks of nervousness in Michel. He merely nodded. "I am."

"How well are you monitoring him, Zirgei?", asked Nightingale. She was not very good at hiding her thoughts and the honest concern was unmistakable. "Montoring is hard if he is not present for several days without other explanation than work." Zirgei did not wish to be needlessly rude to the British woman who had always shown more heart than the rest of Hand of Andros but now the discussion started to borderline matters that he would have rather kept from the group.

Unfortunately Michel got curious. "Do you mean he leaves his wife for several days?" Again there was no need to present any more information than the bare bones of an answer would require. "Yes, I do." There was no telling how the things were between Andre and Melanie except that they were not well but even so it was not the time to take any further personal part in the conflict. Zirgei suspected that he had more than his fair share to do with the unfortunate situation as it was.

"If I may?" The speaker was Chiang Norrero, the resident brain and nervous system specialist. "I have examined the results of the brain scan and in my opinion they are not completely conclusive. The technology used is crude in comparison to the machines at my disposal. I would like to take a personal scan if it is possible." Zirgei sipped the whiskey thoughtfully. "I will bring it up with Andre when I next see him. It will be a good opportunity to detain him if need be under the guise of treatments."

This invited Charisma to take part. "Is the usage of Blackbeard's healing device out of question? It has been a useful tool before." In his screen Sparks Blackbeard shook his head. "When I was healing the gunshot wound in Andre his woman interfered with the process. That left the whole cell structure charged with remnants of the energies that the device outputs. It may dissipate in time but until that I wouldn't use any artificial healing attempts on him. The results would be uncertain at best." He sighed with regret. "It was my fault. I let the woman stay because I thought she wanted to be with her man. Instead she very nearly killed him. Emotions can be hazardous." Zirgei merely drank whiskey waiting for the subject to finally change. He finally got his wish.

Ontario's Voice was represented by a game of Pong. The ball kept bouncing between two small moving platforms. The Voice spoke. "What of the temporal fugitives?" The question was needless since Zirgei would have already brought any development to the attention of others. Now he accepted the diversion gratefully. "No sign yet. I am looking."

Then there was a silence which was left for the aging robotist to end. "I will find out the truth about my son, and let you know." This seemed to be what was needed. Michel took the reins once more. "Now, if there is nothing further, meeting adjourned. A for Andros."

The large screen was divided into sixteen squares. Most of them went out, but a few remained. Zirgei drank his glass to the bottom and smiled not totally unlike a preying hyeena. It was good to know that he was not totally on his own. "We have work to do."

Elsewhere, at the same time, a similar scene was taking place. Michel looked levelly at her gathered conspirators. Charisma, Kawamura and Ontario's Voice. The prevalent mood was restlessness. Michel brushed her hair in a doomed attempt and said snappier than she had intended. "Well this is just wonderful."

"It is unfortunate that the identity of Kraft's son is in doubt. We must abort our project while we still can." Kawamura bowed his head respectfully. When he looked up once more he saw Michel's face contorted with fury. "No!", she exclaimed. "We have invested far too much to back out now. I don't care if he is the real deal or not, he is now ours!"

Charisma interrupted. "He is still his own man, to a large extent. In fact that presents us with unseen challenges. If we are to bend him to our will we must act stronger. The situation is too precarious and with absences that last for days we can't say that we have any genuine control. Besides, if he is shipped to Chiang we might lose him altogether." Michel agreed heartily. "Yes! Break and bind. If he is the real one he will serve us when the time comes, and if he is a copy, we have at least an operative. Kawamura, you are a master in conditioning. Can you handle this boy for us?"

A resentful scoff was matched by Kawamura's expression. "You speak of my craft as if it was meant to be practiced by commoners. Subverting a human mind is the most grandiose work of art, a true representation of careful skill and impeccable eye. Any fool can force someone to do their bidding. I go far beyond the crude techniques employed by the less sophisticated amateurs. Converting a person is a labout of love. One must love his subjects to understand them, and one must bring the subjects to love him. Such a beautifully tragic outcome is not a result of a haphazard endeavour lasting mere days or weeks! The flower blossoms only at the end of an intricate persuasion of months. I know the time is of essence and yet you ask for my services. You wish this to be done immediately and waste the perfection of the extent of my talent."

The game of Pong went on as Ontario's Voice spoke. "You are still going to attempt it." It was not a question nor an order. It was a statement of facts as they were. Kawamura bowed his head again. "I am. I will break him in two weeks. I will make him our slave, place trigger words, install hidden commands, train him to obey us unconditionally. I weep for the lost chance of using my true skills, making him a loyal, obedient servant undetected by others. Now the change will inevitably leave detectable marks, sharp alterations in behaviour patterns. We can only try to keep him secluded to prevent exposure and intervention."

Michel was smiling cruelly. She was now emotionally invested and was thus prone to slights and errors. "How will you do that? He can't be gone for two weeks. They will grow suspicious." Also Kawamura was letting his careful facade slip. Even the stoic Japanese calm had to give in under the enthusiasm of an artist and a creator explaining his own work. "The suit. It will admister dosages of drugs and plant subliminal commands while he works."

"Good. I want also the learning feedback loop enhanced. He is retaining a small amount of the skill that the suit gives to him on the field. I want that boosted considerably. There is no telling if we need to abandon the suit at some point. Or destroy it. He must be capable of fighting even without it." After Michel's order Voice of Ontario offered another observation. "The boosted feedback will no doubt enhance his physical responses in a very short amount of time, but it will also be painful." This was affirmed by Kawamura. "Painful, agonizing, perhaps even excrusiating. It depends on multiple factors."

A pop of a bubblegum preceded Charisma's remark. "Do we care?" No one replied. "I thought so. So, get it done. I don't know exactly why we would be needing this guy and I know you ain't telling me. That's cool. Just get it over and done with." There was no love lost between Michel and her female co-conspirator but there was no denying the truth and sense in her words. "Yes. If Kraft's son is away modify the suit immediately. His indoctrination begins upon his return. Mix the drugs with something addictive. We want him to live in the suit the upcoming days." Kawamura bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"This will be all, meeting adjourned. A for Andros."

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

(( Happened 4.4.2007 ))

In their respective hideouts certain sixteen people watched the news as the flames struck from an obliterated skyscraper. Not all of them knew exactly who was responsible but each of them knew that it was one of them.

Low profile. Covert assassinations where absolutely needed. This changed the rules. Now the profile had gone up in the smoke and debris. Deathtoll threatened to exceed a hundred.

The rift between factions had so far been kept bearable and civil. Even the worst clashes had been verbal and, ultimately, each decision unanimous. Now with one strike the rift had widened to a fault and the internal war ignited.

In her office Michel Sanders made preparations to vanish for the time being. Elsewhere Kawamura consulted the divining sticks and frowned upon an ill omen. Inside her little apartment Nightingale shivered and watched an ally's ashes creep upwards half across the world. And in his lair right in heart of Paragon City Zirgei Kraft was having mixed feelings. Joy for granting a boon to one in distress. And worry for the future since her knew as well as his conspirators that the Hand of Andros as it had been had come to an end.

And this was before his son would come to him, in a few days, carrying unexpected news, and troublesome questions.

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

(( Takes place during the night and very early morning of 15.6.2007 ))

The Man from Marrakech, the Magician and the Angel of Love -
a true tale of thunder and lightning

The entrance looked inconspicious enough. The zoom in Coile's helmet revealed nothing worrisome but he had been in this game long enough not to take safety for granted. Especially the safety of others. In this case there was no margin for errors at all. Love Angel crouched beside him on the roof and squinted her eyes. It was dark and without hightened senses or technological luminary enhancers it was impossible to make out more than the rough shape of the doorway. "What do you see?", she asked.

"Just a door. If this is Marocco's hideout we can count on it being boobytrapped, mined and secured with counterwhatever. Let's be careful, okays?" Angel pulled a fake annoyed face. "That's my line, silly." She peered through the darkness. "Should we circle around, or go through the roof as we did with that Crey building in Eden?" The answer was pretty much what she expected. "Nah, when we go in we'll be noticed anyways so we can just as well bust through the front door."

Angel sighed. At least there was a plan even if it was just a nudge better than going and knocking on the door. "Thunder and lightning then.", she said smiling as she popped an arrow shaft from a wrist loader and screwed a flash tip on it. Coile looked up at the starclear nightsky. "Where?" The blond haired girl had to giggle. "Silly! I meant you blast the door down and I shoot a flashbang arrow in."

"Oh! Because my battlecry is thunderstruck?" She resisted the urge to shake her head at the question. At times his innocent simplicity was sweet, at times it borderlined irritating. She could not quite say into which category this would fall. "Yes.", she replied. Coile in his power armour rose to stand. "Okays. that door will never know what hit it." He kept a small pause. "Because soon it will be in splinters the size of a toothpick, and because doors never know what hits them." Then the repulsorlifts in the boots countered gravity's pull and he hung in the air.

They had been on the hunt for four hours now and soon the dawn would start breaking through. It had involved asking a few guys some questions, comparing notes to whatever was in Freedom Corp and HeroCorp files and a few lucky guesses. All the intelligence and information pointed now to this dock storage hall in Independence Port. What grated Coile was that this place was no more than four buildings away from the place where he had originally found Steel Guard's close combat powersuits. Finally it was time to bring the fight to the doorstep of Hand of Andros.

Deep inside Coile longed for the familiar feel of energy gathering inside him before it found a release through his hands. Now he had to settle on the suit doing all that for him. An indicator slithered up telling how big a wallop the blast would pack. This was no time to pull any punches. The indicator hit red. Then bright red. Just before an alarm went off the leader of Silent Tempest hit the switch and a compact front of energy shot from the gloves. Fifteen meters away the door was ripped from the hinges and disappeared to inside the house. It was followed with no delay at all by an arrow. A searingly bright light shone for a fraction of a second from the doorway, sealed windows and every minuscule crack that there was on the walls.

Both Coile and Love Angel darted through the air at the doorway the armoured man taking point. Once inside he was ready to blast any threatening force but there was only a single man with hands over his eyes. Just to be sure Coile drove into the man shoulder first ramming him against the wall. Angel landed beside them, bow ready. The downed man whined and coughed.

Love Angel kneeled beside him and put her hand on the man's neck. "You didn't need to be that rough you know." Coile looked downwards at the man who did not seem to be too badly off. "He could've recovered and pull a gun. I have armour, you do not. Now he poses no threat." There was no real need to argue over the matter as nothing would be gained from it. The man gasped and rose to sit against the wall. "What do you want?"

Love Angel spoke softly. "We want to find Mr. Marocco. If you know where he is, please tell us. It is important and our friend is in danger. There doesn't have to be any more roughness than there already was." She threw a glare at Coile. "Just tell us what you know."

The man stared at her with disbelieving eyes. There were no threats or coercion. The girl was just making a request. He considered the options. If he was beaten, he'd tell everything before long. He glanced quickly at the armoured suit standing right beside him. What did he really owe to anyone? A paycheck was no reason to get a broken arm or worse. Somehow the kindness in the girl's voice got to him. He wanted to cooperate. "He's downstairs."

"Thank you.", said Love Angel. "Have you done anything bad for him? Killed anyone? Hurt anyone?" For reasons that escaped him the man told the truth. "I'm just paid to guard this place. Last week I yelled at some kids who played on the yard." He heard his own voice to go on. "I'm sorry." Love Angel smiled. "Oh, then it's ok. You can leave." She made a point of looking at Coile meaningfully for a second. "As fast as you can."

The man sprung to his feet and ran out of the door as if the whole of Circle of Thorns was on his heels. Angel yelled after him. "And get a decent job!" Coile looked around. "Hey, quiet down." The girl scoffed. "Yes, that is important because the door crashing in didn't make enough noise to alert everyone in here." It was impossible to tell if the man was smiling the least or not as his face was hidden under the helmet. "Point taken.", he just said.

No staircase was leading underground which only meant that there was likely to be a hidden trapdoor. They hovered above the floor and search the whole place twice. Nothing. Angel sighed. "I can't believe he would have lied." Her companion grunted. "What I like about you, for one, is your optimism, but sometimes people just don't work that way." Before Angel could protest Coile suddenly lifted his hand. "Wait. Shoot a flash arrow at the ceiling." Then he flew up almost to the ceiling himself. Angel prepared another flashbang and smiled. She could sense that Coile had a plan. An event like that did not come along all that often but when such a thing happened it made her warm inside. In those moments he was a leader. If only he would believe more in himself. She did as asked and shot the arrow.

A second time the spacious room bathed in a chemical light. From his vantage point Coile pointed at a single crate. "I bet it's under that." Both convened by the large wooden box and Angel cast a curious eye. "How do you know?"

"There's all sort of filters and stuff in these goggles." He tapped on his helmet. "I figured alternating them all rapidly would maybe make one useful and right here there's way less dust on the floor than anyplace else." Love Angel smiled happily. "That was smart thinking." Armoured shoulders lifted upwards. Coile had never found the perfect way to accept a compliment.

Drawing a deep breath he pressed his shoulder against the crate and pushed. No effect. He tried again. Again the results were so slim they could have slipped through a crack between realities. Angel looked around. "Where was the dustless area?"

"We're standing on it."

She took his gloved hand and lead the way to the other side. Then as a half-joke she pushed the crate herself and sent it sliding away and revealing a sizeable hole in the floor. Concrete stairs were leading down. With unspoken pact Coile again assumed point and walked down. Briefly he wondered if his teammate had worked out how they both were vulnerable, armour or not. Mr. Marocco was reputed to be an expert in powersuits and he had provided Coile with his current wear to begin with. If he wanted to take the Silent Tempest leader out of the game he had all the chances for it.

At the bottom there was a workshop of sorts. Powersuit parts and tools were lying all around the place. Love Angel followed right behind her friend with a blunt, rubber tip arrow ready. However there was no need for it, nor the concerns. They found Mr. Marocco sitting in a reclining chair and smoking a cigar. He observed them seemingly calmly as they came around a corner and then closed in. "Unexpected to see you here, Coile. Is your suit not working right? You only needed to give me a call."

The pair stopped in front of Mr. Marocco's desk. "I did try to call you. Said your number was not available." Coile looked down at the man who tapped ash off of his cigar. Mr. Marocco was a thin man with black moustache and matching hair on top of which was a traditional fez. He was wearing a white shirt and a black velvet vest. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room.

"I merely wished to work in peace tonight.", the man from Hand of Andros remarked. He was trying to be casual but it proved to be a mistake as his desk would soon find out. Coile was having a particularly short fuse right now and just one hefty, gauntleted smack later the table lay in two halves. Another energy load coagulated in the glove and one swing sent the bigger half of the desk flying. It crashed with the wall violently and with much noise. Coile grabbed Mr. Marocco by his jacket yanking him up. "Amber Banshee. Spill."

Love Angel kept looking at both men. Coile was being unusually aggressive as the situation was a non-combat one. Last time he had gone overboard he had been subjected to drugs from his suit. His current suit came from this same man that they had come to find here. She kept her bow ready and quickly and discreetly prepared also another arrow. This one housed an EMP tip. Even if Coile's suit was shielded a direct hit should knock it out.

The colour on Mr. Marocco's face had lost some of its hue. He was more nervous than he was letting on. "Who is this man you speak of?", he said and cast a quick glance at Angel. perhaps noticing what she was doing. Then all air was punched out of him as Coile threw him at his chair which toppled over. Just as the man from Marrakech was scampering to his feet pneumatic fingers grabbed him again. The voice was mangled by the helmet but the lack of warmth was still evident. "Amber Banshee is my friend and you sent her after Charisma! Why? We had a deal, for sky goddess' sake! I keep your hide safe and you point me at them when they raise their heads!"

With effort Mr. Marocco turned his head only to see a glove that was loaded and bristling with enough energy to bust through sheetrock. Wincing he glanced at the girl who had a gentle look to her. She had worry on her face but did not look like she would interfere. He spoke. "She came after me. I did not want her involved. Her own fault. Charisma has tried to kill me for weeks. I set a trap. It failed."

Coile pushed his captive to the ground roughly. "You were supposed to call me and not send unwitting people after monsters. Why her and not me?" Mr. Marocco rolled to his side. "Because it was a long shot. I doubted the success. She was expendable. You have Thomas's suit, you have bigger motive to capture Charisma and Michel Sanders. More efficient this way."

The casualness towards a human life stung inside Love Angel's chest. There was anger in her voice. "What? You sent a girl into a trap because you thought she was expendable? It's you who is the monster here! Well now we caught you and you will spend some time in prison thinking of what you have done!"

A laughter was an unexpected response. "I think not, girl. You will let me go." Angel scoffed. "We won't, be sure of that, mister!" The man rose to his kneels. "Oh, I think you find yourself to be mistaken. Is that not right Coile? You will let me go."

Love Angel looked at her armourclad leader questioningly. After a long while there was an answer that made the blood in her veins feel like ice. "We'll let you go." She could just gape for a moment, and then exclaimed. "What?"

The man picked up the fez that had fallen down and chuckled. "We have a pact. He protects me. There is nothing that you can do about it." He got to his feet. "You need me, to find these women."

For a moment the girl with bow and arrow looked like she might knock both men out but suddenly the anger and frustration waned. A voice was talking into her ear, directly from inside the armoured helmet and over a team channel. "I only promised to protect him from Charisma and Michel. When we have them also he will go down. And I want him at large still. He sent Amber to a trap. His turn to be a bait."

Taking a step closer Coile came to stand right next to Mr. Marocco and spoke with a level, dispassionate voice. "New rules. I want more information. I want to know who all are in Hand of Andros, in case I am unaware of one or two guys. I want to know how and where to reach them, back when you all still talked to each other. I want your best guess at where Charisma is and where she's taken Amber. I want your best guess about where Michel is. I want full co-operation and any information that I might ask for. Otherwise I can't do my blazing job." The helmet came almost into contact with the man's head. "I'm not unreasonable. I want that information as soon as possible and by Sunday night the latest. Make it good, make it complete."

Coile lifted his hand and pointed at the other man's nose with a finger threateningly. "And don't even think of running. We found you now, we can find you again. And if I have to do that I'll bring the Silent Tempest, that's my friends, and the Militia, that's Amber's friends, with me. You would not like that."

He had picked up a few things from Sword of Truth. In these situations it never paid to indulge in a conversation. He had said what he was going to and that was the cue to leave. Two days was enough for this isolated man from Hand of Andros to come to the conclusion that his best shot at surviving lied in spilling the beans. Enough to consider what information he should reveal, and then make a sensible presentation out of it. And yet not enough time to vanish. In truth two days was many times over what was needed for a disappearing act as Angel pointed out just as soon as they were out of the den.

"We had some luck and three month's worth of data from your workplace about this area. If he wants to go hiding we can't find him as easily again."

"Don't worry. I have a trick or two up my sleeve." His reassuring grin had no effect since no one could see it.

"Oh, ok then.", Angel smiled. "My magician prince."

Quietly Coile wondered how long it would take Angel to deduce that his mighty trick up his sleeve was in fact a simple tracer, one of the perks of his job over at HeroCorp. No matter. A magician never revealed his tricks.

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel

(( There are a few threads over on Militia forum that deals with Hand of Andros plot from their perspective. Here are the direct links. Please note that some posts are identical to those on this forum.

Hand of Andros
This starts with my stories but moves to forum RP. What's going on with Amber and how it came to be is explained here.

Search for Amber
This deals with Militia starting to look for one of their missing member.

Briefing in Militia meeting room, 15th June
Coile was invited by Crimson Archer to attend to a Militia meeting to discuss the Amber situation. Andre met Jay on Thursday night. Then took place Man from Marrakech, and then this briefing in Friday morning.

Crimson Archer
Right after the briefing some folks discuss other things, but also Hand of Andros. ))

_________________
- Coile * The Silent Tempest
"There is nothing really supernatural at it but it is extraordinary that a schoolgirl can do it so good." -description of Love Angel