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The Master of Chaos

Immediately following the event of Operation Liberty Bird , T.R.Edwards and his aid Benson try to make sense of their failure to entrap the Squadron Ghost Bear into their schemes. Having prearranged to either force the Squadron to submit to his rule, or to make haste to attempt a rescue of the Command group lead by the Hunters at Praxis , the  squadron severed communications and chose a course of action. A course that Edwards had not foreseen, nor had he prepared. The Master of Chaos “Well, that didn’t go as planned!” The silence in the aftermath of what they had just borne witness to, finally broken. Though no sooner had the words left his mouth, Benson instantly regretted his actions. “No, no it certainly did not.” General Edwards replied dryly. Seated at his dais, fingers steepled against his chin in contemplation. “S..S…Shall I declare them Sir? The mutinous scum that they are, enemies of…” Benson stammered in fear, desperately seeking to find the correct wording to avoid Edward’s wrath. “No….Not at this time.   Their actions are troubling, they do not match with the expected profiling that was constructed.   I need to know why that would be? Edwards replied, still staring at the static filled screen. Moments before it had been providing them both with a visual feed to the command center of a Robotech Masters Factory satellite. His mole, an unfortunate individual by the name of Ventom , had been acting as his mouth piece.   A fortunate discovery, the man bore the terrible ill effects of Invid Experimentation.   Chitinous carapace, armoured plates replacing much of its skin, interwoven with extensive cybernetic implants. Implants that had permitted the creature an unparalleled level of interface with technological control systems. The creature had been invaluable to their cause, keenly he felt it’s loss. Not for any sentimental reasoning, it was but a tool. Though far too valuable a tool to have wasted for no appreciable gains. “Where did we obtain the majority of our information on this Xander ?” The question posed by Edwards, presented out loud to the room. It took Benson an uncomfortable amount of time to realise that the question was not rhetorical, and he was the only staff member capable of answering. “ Cosgrove , he held all of the personnel files for the members of this Ghost Bear Squadron . Clearly, he must have entered favourable information, misrepresented them!” Benson replied crisply, happy to have diverted the blame to someone incapable of challenging his accusation. “And it never occurred, not even once, to fact check?” Devoid of any emotional inclination, Benson physically recoiled from Edwards reply.   This was when he was most dangerous, coiled like the snake that he was.   Panic seizing Bensons heart in a vice like grip, he floundered for the words to save himself. “My Lord, we do not have the personnel. My General, my Lord, our reach is extensive, but far from well established.” Tears welling in his eyes, body shaking, Benson’s voice squeaked out miserably. “It’s has been difficult to recruit, it’s not as though we can simply build the obedient personnel that we need!” “What did you just say?” A tic playing at he corner of his one good eye, the only change in Edwards masked expression.   Prostrating himself before the dais on which Edwards sat, Benson whimpered.   “I have sworn my fealty to you my Lord, Lord General! I beg your mercy, I beg you permit me to serve you! I can still be of use!” “We shall see about that.” Edwards replied with disinterest. Sighing in a mixture of disgust and disappointment he waved Benson to stand. “Perhaps what you have said holds a kernel of truth. Our allies on the Plenipotentiary Council will need to be made aware of this development, we shall be forced to seek their assistance.   You realise that this weakens us in their eyes?” “Perhaps not my lord General…” Benson sniffed, composing himself. “What if it were in their interests to investigate?” “I have not been officially awarded that rank yet. That hinges on the outcome of events at Praxis. ” Edwards cautioned his aid. “The Muses , those entertainers that we utilized for winning over the NCO’s. I happen to know that several senior staff fawn over them.” On his knees, voice growing stronger as he regained his confidence, Benson continued. “What if they happened to decide to take a tour of OUR newly acquired Robotech Factory ?” “Get to the point Benson , we don’t have the time and I don’t have the patience.” The irritation in Edwards voice failing to mask his curiosity. “Once the Muses were aboard, what if the station were to fire apon the military escort ship? Then this Xander would be seen by all as the traitorous creature that he truly is! Not to mention that he had resorted to kidnaping!” “Our if they were to die by his hand…Nothing unites the masses like grief and the need for vengeance! However…” Edwards painfully drew out the pause, playing with the man.   “You KNOW that Grant stole our only fold capable warship, how did you foresee any sort of vessel getting there? Do we even know where these singing toys called the Muses are?” Edwards words shredding his confidence, once again he felt his neck exposed to this executioner of men. “ CABELL !” Benson squeaked out the words. “That old Robotech Scientist had an unhealthy interest in the ladies. That Pervert may know where they are!” “Very well, we shall visit him together, for I have other matters to discuss with him.” His face unreadable, Edwards rose towering above his aid. “Get up man! Clean yourself up, you look pathetic. We must go and visit this old sexual predator and see if he has any value to us.” Stained with dust and tears, Benson feebly drew himself from the floor, he would live another day. He would not be discovered in some alley, victim of a terrible accident.” “How do we deal with any information that this rogue squadron might issue Sir?” Benson enquired timidly. “Yes, time is of the essence. The negotiations for the cease fire with the Invid Regent lie less than a week away. All communications are to be intercepted by this facility for Fact checking and verification , prior to general release.   I must be seen as the ONLY viable candidate should a Terrible Accident befall the command group at Praxis. ” Checking the lay of his uniform in the reflection of the viewing screens, Edwards fell back into the narcissistic poise to which Benson was so accustom. “I suggest that you set up a bed in the corner Benson , you will be spending your nights here. You will be reviewing and editing our official release of this Xander’s message.”
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Four days before the proposed peace summit. Tirol Cabells Laboratory  “So gentlemen, to what do I own the honour of your attention?”   The elderly scientist enquired. “We believe that you have some information that may be important to our investigations. We would like to ask you some questions Cabell .”   Benson presented the statement in as not threatening manner as possible.   The man was incredibly old and feeble, yet he likely held a wealth of information, information that could be tapped. “Well, I hope that I might be of some assistance then my boy.   Though I do hope that this shan’t take too long, I was hoping to visit the markets this afternoon.”   The old man replied in a wavering voice.   “But goodness, where are my manners?   Would you care for a drop of summer wine? Captain Nollan Benson glanced across to his superior. Edwards was lounging back in his chair, his one good eye fixed on the scientist. Studying him intently, determined to decipher why such a geriatric creature was held in high esteem by the Tollian society.   A slight nod of his head was Bensons cue to accept and proceed. “We would be grateful for the opportunity to share a glass with as esteemed an individual as yourself.” Benson intoned with far more gratitude than the simple gesture required.   “Such a sycophant!”   Edward’s thought to himself.   “Though this behaviour of his looks to be the key to earning this old fools trust.” Raising a petite metal bell, Cabell continued chatting as he beckoned his servants.   Scantily clad men and women entered the room baring platters of food and pitcher of wine.   Caught off guard, Benson struggled to avert his gaze, an embarrassed blush colouring his face.   Edwards held no such concerns of modesty, delighting in openly leering at the servant women. Composing himself, taking care to extol the delicate flavours of the amber liquid, Benson guided the conversation towards more pressing issues.   “Sir, we have been led to believe that you are the surrogate father to the singing group known as the Muses . Is this correct?” “I suppose that may be the most appropriate terminology dear boy.” Cabell chuckled kindly.   “Your culture differs greatly from that of ours.   These women had no Mother or Father as such, they are simply a collection of cells.   Strands of DNA and RNA, woven into a being. Modesty aside, perhaps some of my finest work!” “So, you care nothing for these ladies? These clones are less than you or I?”   Benson blurted out incredulously, his composure slipping long with his focus.   “Well, clearly they would be inferior to myself. However, their development was carefully crafted, they have purpose, function. They are not some chaotic assembly of genes from a random mating act, as it the way of your people. Edwards coughed and interjected before his underling destroyed their opening for information.   “They are exemplary specimens Cabell , they must have represented a phenomenal level of achievement for your race.   All to be associated to one man no less.” “Well I suppose that it was a team effort with their design, but in truth I wrote the coding sequencing, so the credit is mine!” The old man huffed in embarrassed frustration.   “We were quite taken with them!” Edwards confided, a twinkle of lust playing in his eyes. “Should we wish to court their affections, where might we find them?” “Oh you poor lads, you have fallen under their spell!” Cabell chuckled. “The Muses as they are called are quite sterile, you will never father children on them, if that was your desire?” Crest fallen; Edwards allowed a tinge of sadness to enter his voice.   “Honoured Sir, we still desire them.   A weakness it is true, please if you know where they might be?” “Oh very well, I was young once too.   I lent them a vessel some time ago, they chose to spread joy through the art of their singing at Karbarra. ”   Cabell informed them dismissively.   “Out sincerest thanks to you sir!” Benson whispered, looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. “My research does not come cheaply, if you wished, I could reproduce partners for you.   Provided that you could pay for such services of course.” Cabell ventured, testing the waters with his offer. “Hence the reason you had these fine specimens deliver our food and drink?” Edwards deduced. “You are not the first nobles who have requisitioned me for such services.” Cabell offered in way of explanation.   The scientist in him issuing warnings, something here was out of place.   If this man truly was the individual that had carried out the wanton destruction about the Royal Palace during their liberation from the Regent’s forces… “So, Men or women are both available. Blanks that have little personality or conditioning installed. I can provide labour models, companion models and even security models…” “We will take whatever you have on hand!”   Edwards interrupted excitedly, rubbing his hands together in glee.   Though, we do have another issue that we would like your assistance with.” Edwards offered, taking the time to calm himself while indicating for Benson to present their information.   Placing a tactical Hologram projector on the floor, Benson fusses with the control knobs, trying to correct the picture. A poor-quality hologram rendering emitted from the Tactical projector resolves as the audio synchronizes. A Zentraedi Officer in UEEF Cyclone Armour speaks. “We have liberated this Robotech Repair Factory. A factory which is now powered and fully operational we hereby report that we can no longer follow you.   You are not our master; we shall never kneel to you.   We will not be your slaves! We now possess the ultimate power in this universe for the Child of Helios has awoken, it has been suggested that we use it! You can not fathom the power of the dark side...” The image of Xander fades away from the screen. “There are rumours that back in the days of your youth, you had a hand in the design of these Zentraedi clone warriors.   This one, this Xander has become defective.” The look of concern etched into Edwards face.   “We desperately need your assistance in stabilising it’s mental condition, there are many warriors under it’s command.   Innocent men and women that may be drawn into a needless bloody conflict should this broken creature be permitted to run rampant.” “May I obtain a copy of this message? I will have to review the body language and patterns of speech; this is most concerning.”   Grandfatherly smiles scoured from Cabells face.   “Do you know what might have triggered this behaviour?” “No sir, we don’t!” Benson commented as he tidied away the projector.   “Though his senior commander did suffer from a mental breakdown, perhaps the section was mismanaged as a result.   The stress of constant deployment can break the strongest resolve.” “Perhaps.” Cabell mused.   “Either way you have a serious problem on your hands now.” “Excuse me?” Edwards exclaimed, composure slipping for but a moment.   Yet the laps did not go unnoticed.   “This represents a problem for all peaceful life, this creature is a madman!   He represents a threat to…” “He represents a threat to all life.   Tirolian , Karbarren , Human . Plant, animal, insect, even bacteria.”   The complete lack of emotion present in Cabells face making it unreadable.   “I have no idea how you got access to this warrior, but he was never meant to have been reawakened.” “Is this some form of joke?” Benson laughed in disbelief.   “I am a scientist; I deal in facts and you have just ruined a pleasant day.   Clearly, I have a horrendous amount of research to conduct now.   I must determine if there is a way to deactivate the Warlord that you have just unleashed!” “ Cabell you are mistaken.   This creature is but a lowly Zentraedi warrior, devoid of any real intellect, designed as a simple soldier!” Edwards growled, what was happening?   This carefully planned conversation, their performances, it was all unravelling. “I was involved in the design of these warriors, do not think to lecture me on their function.   This design is very old, please I need to familiarise myself with the files once again. That and to get horrendously drunk.” Cabell waved for his servants. “The clones?” Benson enquired unable to prevent himself asking the question. “You shall have your pick of what I have in stock.” Cabell shouted from his chair as the UEEF officers were escorted out.   “Does it really matter anymore.   The end of days are apon us…” “It was going so well, then it just started falling apart?” Benson huffed in exasperation.   Where the Plenipotentiary Council had willingly accepted the Holographic footage as fact; ingrained prejudices making it easy to see a Zentraedi warrior as the enemy.   This geriatric old man had been far harder to convince.   Then once he had taken the bait, for some unknown reason he associated this simple grunt as a herald of the apocalypse.   “Age, enfeebles even the greatest of minds.” Benson laughed without mirth. “A partial victory. We have the information that we require on the location of the Muses , you shall have the personnel you begged for.   Perhaps you will find a nice strong one to sate your desires…” Edwards face twisting with an ugly smirk. “Sir, I’m not actually gay.” Benson replied, taking some small pleasure in watching the smirk slide from Edwards face. “Well whatever, do we have agents at Karbarra ?”   Edwards sneered, how dare the man correct him, it took all the fun out of teasing him. “A small team sir.   I’ll contact them shortly, what would you have me instruct them?”   Benson offered tactfully. “Oh, you know, use your best judgement.   Maybe something like a timed detonation aboard their vessel.   Just as long as such an act can be attributed to this Zentraedi Republic silliness.”   Edwards offered offhand, already preoccupied with browsing the selection of companions on offer from Cabells laboratory. “Yes…Hello?” The aged voice croaked as tired eyes focused. “Three, can you hear me?”   Cabell shouted. “Two!” A man Identical to Cabell peered back angrily through the communication console.   “You’re drunk, tell me you at least ensured that the encryption protocols were in place before making this connection.” “Of course I did you boring old fart.   So, I’ve got some news.”   Two replied with a drunken slur. “Well, I was hoping for an explanation as to why you had begun processing a third of our remaining clone stock.   It seems an exceptionally foolish act with no foresight, resources that we should not squander!”   Three berated his clone, why must it fall to him to be the voice of restraint and reason? “Shall not matter, none of it matters anymore!” Two replied, sliding awkwardly out of his chair.   “ The Child of Helios has been awoken!” “Really, how much have you been drinking?” Three chided. “It is only partially self-aware, at least that is what I deciphered from the Holographic presentation, here sending to you now.”   Two b l athered, as he struggled to upload the message. Three watched in silence as the message played through, taking note of the time date stamps, the inconsistencies in image and sound quality.   The body language of the Zentraedi Warlord, speech patterns, it’s eyes. “You made copies of this didn’t you?”   The question was more rhetorical, Cabell 3.0 tried estimate just how much damage his clone had causes in his panicked drunken state. “The people will need to know!   Last rites must be read, the time of ending has come.” Two shouted, his agitation causing him to slide out of his chair, thumping noisily to the floor. “You need to sober up, we have a lot of work to do.   Listen, there are four of these Children of Helios , send me what you have, and I’ll try and contact One.” Three ordered sternly.   “Are you still there?” Comically a shaking hand rises from the floor into view hitting the transmit button before sinking out of view.   A low groan following as the connection times out. “Shit!” Cabell 3.0 exclaims in uncharacteristic frustration.   The weapon system that was The Children of Helios was deemed as a final solution .   Wielded with impunity, idly thrown against civilizations for the slightest of infractions, they represented wanton genocide.   Unsurprisingly a power that the Masters struggled to control once unleashed, such was their blood lust of each warlord.  Opening redacted file after file, Three scoured the pages for information.   There must be some way to control these Warlords… Why anyone might choose to revive one…