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Issue #88 by Travis Hiltz
FEATURING THE WINTER GUARD! December 2016 |
“Lost and Found: Part One”
The headquarters of the Winter Guard: Russia’s première super-team.
Location: Classified.
The room was sterile and functional, all whites and grays. The only furniture consisted of a single hospital bed and a plain metal chair, both occupied.
A broad shouldered man with reddish-blonde hair, clad in a white, short-sleeved hospital smock lay on the bed, appearing to be asleep. Numerous electrodes, IV tubes and sensor pads were affixed to his arms, legs, neck and temples, connecting him to the banks of equipment that took up one wall of the room.
Sitting pensively in the chair, her shoulders slumped, her hands clasped in her lap was a thin, blonde woman in a black bodysuit trimmed with yellow.
She leaned forward and reached out to stroke the sleeping man’s brow.
She pulled back her hand and leaned back in her seat, her posture as close to relaxing, as the chair would allow.
After several moments, the door slid open and a most unusual being entered. He was humanoid in build: his features were very vague and basic. He was like a manikin made of silver. He wore a black bodysuit, with a red stripe down one side, as well as red boots and gauntlets.
“Ah, Miss Petrovia*,” it said, in a metallic sounding voice.
(*All dialogue translated from Russian for the convenience of the reader- you’re welcome, the author)
“Hello, Vostok,” she replied, quietly. “How is my brother doing?”
“Using his mutant ability to re-channel energy has allowed us to…ah, I am being too literal…ahem…he is doing fine, Miss Petrovia.”
“You can call me Laynia,” she said, looking up and smiling, slightly. “Or Darkstar, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” the silver man replied, smiling back. His smile didn’t quite work, as it appeared that he was not entirely sure which muscles in his face did what. “Your brother, Vanguard…Nicolai’s vital signs are quite steady. He is absorbing the energy. I calculate that he will recover consciousness within a week to ten days.”
Laynia merely smiled and nodded.
She and her brother were mutants, raised in a government institution, where their powers had been honed. They had then become Darkstar and Vanguard, two of Russia’s very small population of costumed superheroes. They had been a part of several versions of the original Russian super heroes, Soviet Super Soldiers.
Following a schism of belief between them and their government liaisons, the siblings had broken with the government and operated as super heroes, while living as fugitives within the Soviet Union.
It was while having joined with a mix of American super heroes on a mission into space that Vanguard was injured so gravely that it was believed he was dying.
Unsure where to turn, Darkstar had returned to the Russian government and made a deal, exchanging her rejoining the Super Soldiers, now renamed the Winter Guard, for her brother’s medical care.
She was thrilled at the rate of her brother’s recovery, but felt conflicted and anxious in putting herself, once again, in the power of the Russian government. She sighed. So far, her missions had been public relation appearances and a few battles with Russia’s meager super-villain population. Her handlers had had enough sense to keep her away from any military or KGB-backed missions.
Vostok was an artificial intelligence; the brain patterns of a deceased cosmonaut imprinted upon a robot body. He was near invulnerable and had a genius-level I.Q., but was regulated more to science consultant then fieldwork.
“I do not mean to interrupt,” Vostok said. “I was sent, not only to check on your brother, but to convey a message. You are required in the operations center.”
“I hear my master’s voice,” Darkstar muttered to herself. She levitated up out of her chair, a nimbus of black energy enveloping her body. It faded once her yellow booted feet touch the floor. “What does Madam X want from me now?”
“Colonel Bolokosky prefers that we not use her previous designation,” Vostok reminded her.
“I’m aware of that,” She sighed, moving to the door. “I will treat the Colonel with the respect she requires…to her face.”
Darkstar floated down the corridor, past technicians and security guards. She soon reached a meeting room, also done in white and grey, with a round table and a dozen chairs around it.
The room only had three occupants, a tall, broad shouldered man with short trimmed hair, who looked uncomfortable in his military uniform, sat at the table. A man in a costume roughly patterned on the design of Captain America’s, but with a red color scheme, white belt, boots, gloves and a white star on the chest. A round shield in a similar pattern was slung across his back. He sat across the table from the muscular soldier.
Standing at the front of the room was a thin middle-aged woman with a severe haircut and a military uniform with a knee-length skirt. She had the aura of a particularly strict teacher about her. She gave the briefest of nods, acknowledging Darkstar’s arrival and then clicked a small remote control.
The wall behind her slid back, revealing a large view screen, which currently showed a map of the Siberian wilderness. There was a large circled area that contained a blinking yellow light.
“Forty Eight hours ago,” Colonel Min Boloksy, one time masked agent, and now current liaison to the Winter Guard said. “A monitoring station in Svelensk picked up a signal from this location.”
“What is that?” The man with the shield asked.
“You are all aware of the existence of what have been nicknamed the ‘secret science cities’,” She answered. “Several of them were decommissioned…”
“Abandoned.” Darkstar murmured under her breath.
“During some financial and political restructuring…”
“The collapse,” Darkstar added.
The broad shouldered soldier looked uncomfortable and gave her a gentle nudge.
The Colonel focused an icy glare at the super heroine for a brief moment, and then returned to her presentation.
“This facility has been powered down and sealed for several decades,” She continued.
“The Winter Guard has been asked to investigate.”
The young soldier hesitantly raised a hand.
“Yes, Major Uriokovitch?”
“Do we know what is causing the energy trace?” He asked.
“We have not been able to identify a specific source, no.”
“Ah. Do we know what was being…um…studied?”
“That information is classified.”
“So, how are we supposed to actually find and deal with this problem?” Darkstar asked, irritably.
“We will be assigning a scientific consultant to your team,” The Colonel explained, stony faced. “He will also serve to replace the Crimson Dynamo, who is currently on loan to a military taskforce. I had hoped he would be more punctual…”
At that moment, the door slid opened and a middle-aged man limped into the room. He had a black beard, threaded with grey, and wore a white lab coat. His right leg, what protruded from his pant leg, appeared to be some kind of green metallic peg leg.
“Please excuse my lateness,” He said, sitting down. “A project was in a critical phase. Hopefully, I have managed to avoid the introductions and small talk and we can proceed to the actual mission parameters.”
“That is what you interrupted, Professor Bullisiki,” The Colonel explained.
“Bulliski…?” Both Darkstar and the Major exclaimed. “You are partnering us with the Titanium Man?!”
“I thought you dealt with all this drama already?” The professor asked, irritably
“It never seems to end,” The Colonel replied.
“How many watchdogs do you plan on setting on us?” Darkstar snapped, rising out of her seat.
The Major placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“Miss Petronova,” Colonel Bololosky said, not raising her voice, but focusing her imposing gaze upon the young heroine. “This facility has many amenities. Among them is a fully functioning front door. You are free at any time to take your brother and make use of it.”
“What?”
“You are not a prisoner,” The Colonel continued. “You approached the government with an agreement, of which we have upheld our part. Your brother is receiving excellent medical care and is well on his way to recovery. Now, you can either live up to your side of our agreement, like an adult, rather than a petulant child, or you are free to leave.”
There followed a raw silence, in which the two women locked gazes and everyone else in the conference room went silent, even the disdainful scientist.
“Fine,” Darkstar said, lowering her eyes. She sat down and the young major patted her shoulder gently.
The Colonel moved her head a fraction of an inch and then returned to the map.
“Our hope is that the energy pulse we are monitoring is due to equipment malfunction or some kind of power surge.,” She explained. “It is hoped that Professor Bololosky will merely have to locate the machinery in question and deal with it.”
“I have a question,” The Red Guardian said, speaking for the first time. “Is there a plan in place in the event this best case scenario does not occur?”
“That is what you three are for.”
“Excuse me…?” The Major asked, tentatively raising his hand. “But, if…um…the rumors about the…kind of projects that the science cities worked on are…uh…true, then is there a plan if we encounter something we cannot handle?”
The colonel gave the heroes a thoughtful glance than nodded to herself.
“A soviet tank corps will be on maneuvers, testing new targeting systems,” She explained tapping a place on the map near the location of the science city. “You will be provided with communication codes, as the Guardian and Professor Bololosky are on assignment as advisors. Any other questions?”
There were a few headshakes and general silence.
“Good. Your transport leaves in an hour.”
# # # # #
“The Avengers quinjet is heated,” Major Uriokivitch muttered, huddling deeper into his brown parka.
“And the seats were padded,” Darkstar added, smiling at her friend’s discomfort. The Winter guards’ mode of transport was a military troop plane. It was roomy and sturdy, but more practical than equipped for comfort or glamour.
She and the Major sat on a bare metal bench, bolted to the wall of the plane, at the far end from their teammates.
Red Guardian sat at the far end of the plane, arms crossed, either being stoic or catching some sleep before the mission.
Professor Boloolsky was in the back storage area, tending to his armor and equipment.
“You’d think they could have installed more heaters,” Urivitch said. “Or a coffee machine.”
“Our comfort is not their concern,” Darkstar shrugged.
“While, we have a moment,” The young solider said. “Layina, you need to…to…um…let some of this anger go. It is not helping.”
“You can’t expect me to trust those people…!” Darkstar replied, her voice beginning to rise.
“Layina,” He murmured putting a hand on her arm. “I am not your enemy. I entered into this…deal with the Winterguard with you in order to help your brother, my friend. I was there with you through all our problems and fights with the government. I share your worries, but at the same time, the government has held up their end of the deal, helping your brother and we have done some good during our time on the team.”
“We compromised our beliefs,” Darkstar said, lowering her head. “Even to save Mikail, perhaps there was another way…”
“Don’t be an idiot,”Urivitch muttered, causing Darkstar to look up in surprise at her normally soft spoken friend’s sharp tone. “You are taking care of your brother and you are also able to be a hero, like we always have worked to be, we were wasting a lot of time being fugitives.”
“But, we are being treated like children, like we cannot be trusted…”
“I’m not saying it’s perfect. No one expects you and Madam X to hug and become best friends, or that the Winter Guard will become the Avengers, but we are doing good and that is worth a little patience with the beauricrats and the watchdogs.”
“Fair enough,” Darkstar smiled, and leaned against her friend’s broad shoulder. “When did you get so wise…? I think I’ll leave you in charge. Wake me when we get there.”
# # # # #
Several hours later, the transport plane touched down on a wide, inhospitable stretch of the Siberian plains and the heroes emerged. Professor Boloolsky was now clad in the armor of the Titanium man. He stood roughly seven feet tall, the bulky armor covered in a shiny green plastic polymer. The faceplate on the helmet was blank except for a thin speaker grill and a pair of glowing eye lenses.
The Major wore a brown parka over his uniform, as did the Red Guardian. Darkstar wore a light jacket, but the cold didn’t seem to be affecting her.
The Titanium man took the lead, stomping across the plain towards the snow-covered dome. The other three used him as a windbreak, and followed behind.
Reaching the dome, the quartet stopped before a dirt and snow-smeared hatchway in the wall. Opening a panel in his gauntlet, the Titanium man tapped at a control panel and then touched a metallic finger to a small square next to the door. There was a sluggish humming sound and the hatchway jerkily slid open.
Growing impatient, the armored scientist reached out and pushed the door open. The hum was replaced by a grinding screech. He then ducked his head and stepped inside, followed quickly by his teammates.
They were in a large vestibule, all done in grey metal and plastic. There was a door at the far end of the room. Stationed by the door was a functionally plain metal desk and chair.
Across the way was a metal bench. Major Urivitch plopped down on it and rubbed his gloved hands together.
“Not much warmer in here than outside,” He muttered and shivered.
“So, only some systems came online…?” Red Guardian asked, peering around suspiciously.
“Or they never bothered to heat this room,” Titanium man said, not looking up from the desk. He slid open the middle drawer, revealing an ancient, dusty keyboard. He consulted his wrist device again, and then tapped out at the keyboard. Most of the keys cracked under the strength of his metal fingers.
The inner door slid slowly open, while the outer door struggled to slide closed, screeching to a halt still half open, wisps of smoke trickling from the doorjamb.
Titanium man peered at the outer door, shrugged and headed for the inner door. The others followed.
They were now in a wide, equally grey corridor. Both walls were lined with widely spaced, closed doors. At one end, there appeared to be a bank of elevators, at the other an open door that revealed some metal stairs.
“Looks like we may need to split up,” The Red Guardian said, after several moments thought.
“Split up?” Urivitch asked. “Like in American horror movies…?”
“Or more like split up so we can go on a wild goose chase, while they deal with whatever they were sent to take care of,” Darkstar said, frostily.
“This again?” Titanium man muttered. “If it’ll make you feel better, you and the Guardian can investigate the level below, while your playmate comes with me in search of a working computer. Happy…?”
Nether Darkstar, the Red Guardian or Major Urivitch had an expression that could be described as ‘happy’, but all three nodded and went on their accepted tasks.
Darkstar floated down the corridor to the open door. She was about to fly through it when the Red Guardian caught up to her.
“Stop!” He snapped, putting an arm out to bar her way.
“What?” She demanded, her clenched fists crackling with obsidian energy.
“You need to choose,” He said. “Between your tantrum or the success of this mission. Whatever your problem is with me, you need to let go until we are done here.”
“Whatever…?” Darkstar muttered. “You have hounded my brother and I for years, treated us like suspects rather than teammates…”
“That wasn’t me,” The Red Guardian interrupted.
“What?”
“I am not the Red Guardian that you previously worked with,” He explained. “I have been the Guardian for less than a year. The Guardian you are talking about died on a mission several years ago. There were two other Red Guardians between him and me.”
“What…?” Darkstar repeated, floating down, until her feet touched the floor. “How many Guardians have there been…?”
“You had no idea?” The Red Guardian asked. “Truly? The original Red Guardian was active during the Second World War. I have no idea how many there have been. I was in the military before being recruited into the Red Guardian program. In fact, on one of my earliest missions, my squad worked with your brother.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Darkstar said, shaking her head.
“I am not here to keep an eye on you,” The Red Guardian continued. “In fact, the Colonel is more concerned with Professor Boloosky than you. I understand, we may never be friends, but I am not your jailer or your watchdog. I wish only to serve my term as a Guardian and do what I can for Russia.”
Darkstar looked at the Red Guardian, peering into his eyes, studying his face, then sighed gave him a small, brief smile.
“Fair enough,” She said. “I don’t know either if we can be friends, but teammates would be a good start.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. “Now, I’d like to say, you are rushing around and that is not only dangerous, but stupid. We have to take this slower until we figure out what is going on.”
Darkstar raised a quizzical eyebrow at her teammates lecture.
“Why is this door open?” Red Guardian asked. “ What caused the scuff marks in the dust on the floor?”
“You think there was an intruder who activated whatever is causing the energy signal?” Darkstar asked.
“The door we used had been forced open before we arrived,” The Guardian said, kneeling down by the door. “And these scratch marks on this door were on the inner side and have no dust on them. Someone may have broken in or broken out.”
Darkstar began to look around, concerned that there may now be the added worry of some assailant lurking in the shadows.
They stepped into the stairwell. Darkstar peered down the metal stairs, counting how many landings she could see, before it grew too dark.
“At least twelve floors,” She muttered to herself. She glanced over at the Red Guardian, who was studying a plaque set in the wall.
It had a column of words on one side, and then a second column of numbers.
“A directory…?” She asked.
“Yes, and I didn’t brush the dust off it,” He remarked, not looking away from it. “Only problem is every project or section is listed by a ‘codename’ of some kind…’Project: Scarab”…no idea what that means…”
“It’s a kind of beetle, from Egypt,” Darkstar said.
“That part I do know,” He said. “It’s what giving a project that name means. It could be anything.”
“Starlight…?” Darkstar said, reading over his shoulder. “Why does that sound familiar…?”
“Guess there’s nothing to do but explore until we find something that points us in the right direction.” The Red Guardian shrugged. He then tapped his earpiece. “Titanium man? Are you reading me?”
“Yes,” The professor’s voice responded. “Looks like our concern about communications were unfounded.”
“We’ll see about that when we get farther apart. We are going to descend to the next level. Found anything helpful?”
“Still attempting to find a working computer. Happy hunting.”
“You too.”
The Guardian turned to Darkstar and made a ‘after you’ gesture.
“Ladies first?” He asked.
“How gallant,” Darkstar said, flying down to the next level.
# # # # #
Titanium man tapped his communicator off and turned to his teammate.
“Well, I don’t look forward to stumbling around in the dark. We need a better way. Come on.”
He stomped down the corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing and the major trailing after him.
“How?” He asked.
“We need access to the computer system or some comprehensive diagrams of the complex, perhaps,” The Titanium man shrugged. “Let them prowl through the labs, it’s the administrative offices that will show us the way.”
The mismatched duo made their way along the corridor, investigating each office they encountered. A half dozen later found them, sitting amongst banks of ancient computer consoles and piles of paperwork and files.
Due to the size and weight of his armor, none of the furniture could support the Titanium man. He was forced to kneel in front of a desk while he attempted to coax some crumbs of information from a clunky, dusty plastic keyboard and monitor.
Major Urivitch, having shrugged out of his heavy weather gear, was slumped in a chair, peering, bleary eyed over numerous rows of facts and figures.
“How did they ever run these places…?” He grumbled. “Nothing I read makes any sense!”
“Ah, the good old days,” His armored teammate said, bitterly. “That perfect marriage of stark paranoia and bureaucracy…we were able to accomplish so much more when everyone was too nervous to dare ask what we were working on and where the funds were going…”
“All I can figure is that this station was split into two main sections,” The Major continued. “Biological research and mechanical…I think the implication is the mechanical side was working on robotics…Project Dybbuk…?”
“A Dybbuk is a spirit that inhabited a host body to roam the world,” Titanium man muttered. “I believe that is where some of the research that resulted in your tin man originated…it did a lot of work in artificial intelligence and robotics”
“Vostok…?”
“Yes, as well as some of the designs for the original Crimson Dynamo armor.” Titanium man tapped away, gingerly at the keyboard.
“What about your armor?” The major asked, looking up from his reading.
“I did some of my early work on it at a similar facility.”
“What about this?’ Urivitch asked, unfolded a large piece of paper. “It looks like a map of the base.”
He spread it out on the empty corner of the desk. Titanium man glanced over.
“Hmmm, looks like a floor plan…appears they had plans for some renovations before the shutdown…”
He reached out and traced some lines on the chart with an armored finger.
“Not sure how accurate this might be,” He said, getting to his feet. “But, it’s an improvement. If the elevators are working, I think we need to go…hmmm…let’s see…ah, here…sub-level eight seems to be where the main labs were…best bet for finding something.”
The duo made their way to the end of the corridor to the elevators. Urivitch pressed the recall button. Then pushed it again after several moments went by with no results.
“Why do people do that?” Titanium man muttered, driving his fingers in-between the doors and prying them apart. “Do you think the more times you hit the button the faster the elevator will go?”
He forced the doors apart and the two men peered down the shaft.
“If everybody left, why is the car at the bottom?” Urivitch asked.
“Interesting question,” The Titanium man asked, grabbing his team mate by the back of his uniform and tucking him under one massive arm. “Let’s find out.”
With that he leapt down the shaft, his boot jets slowing the fall. The young soldier still winced all the way down.
They landed with a thud on the top of the elevator car, Titanium man’s weight causing the roof to creak and buckle a bit.
“I am not a shopping bag!” Urivitch protested climbing loose and standing up. “You could have told me what you had planned!”
The armored scientist ignored him and kneeled down. He thrust his hand through the metal of the car roof and peeled it back until there was room for him to jump down.
The elevator door was open, revealing another long corridor, again, lined with doors. Most were double doors, a few appeared to have been torn off their hinges and one set, at the far end of the corridor had a flickering light coming from underneath it.
“That looks promising,” Titanium man said.
“We should probably check in with the others,” Urivitch suggested, doubtful of the scientists’ definition of ‘promising’.
“I’m sure I can handle what ever we find, “The Titanium man said, making his way down the corridor. “No point in distracting them from their own, I’m sure, fruitful explorations.”
# # # # #
“I think we’re lost,” Red Guardian muttered, looking around.
“This is level three,” Darkstar muttered, as she floated along the corridor. “The sign said so.”
The lights were dim. Half of them were out and the ones that did work, only flickered weakly. The Guardian pulled a white plastic mini-flashlight from his belt and ran it over the identification plaques on the walls by each door.
“This looks to be just…administration,” He muttered.
“If someone did break in,” Darkstar suggested, leaning forward, where she floated, trying to catch a better glimpse of the light coming from under the door. “Maybe they wanted information, rather than to steal…whatever weapons were being made here?”
“This was a research facility, not just…” Red Guardian began.
“I know you think I’m pessimistic, but you can’t be so naïve to tell me this place wasn’t a weapons testing lab?” Darkstar said, with a cynical smile. “If all the room holds is filing cabinets, why are we hanging back?”
Feeling he was being pushed into acting before it was probably a good idea, by his teammates’ challenging tone, the Red Guardian, shifted his shield from his shoulder to his arm and strode toward the door in question.
With his free hand, he pushed one of the double doors open and stepped cautiously into the room.
Darkstar waited for a moment, and hearing nothing but footsteps, shrugged and flew after her teammate. Just as she reached the door, she heard a grunt of surprise and the Red Guardian came crashing through the double doors, hitting the wall on the other side of the corridor hard enough to leave cracks. He slumped to the dusty floor, looking dazed.
“What in the world…!” Darkstar exclaimed, rushing to her teammates’ side.
“Guardian…?” She asked, kneeling by his side and nudging his shoulder.
“Uh…um…mu-move, Darkstar…!” He murmured, unsteadily, struggling unsuccessfully to regain his feet.
The Russian heroine turned towards the double doors, her hands raised and black energy crackling from her fingertips.
Crowded in the doorway, was what appeared to be a pair of beetles, both ten feet tall and with shiny and bright red caprices.
“Project: Scarab,” She muttered, in a tone that mixed annoyance with a touch of fear. “Of course…it would be…!”
# # # # #
“This should be one of the main robotics labs,” Major Urivitch said, alternating between studying the floor plan they’d found and glancing around the corridor. “It seems to take up most of this level…looks like these other doors are…um…maintenance or…something…?”
“You’re going to just confuse me if you keep using all those technical terms,” Titanium man muttered, scratching at his armored chin absently. He glanced down at his wristband. “Getting energy readings…so something is active…interesting…let’s have a look.”
The Major was so engrossed in comparing the diagram to some papers he’d had tucked under his arm, that he didn’t immediately notice the team’s scientific advisor walking away until he heard the crash, the distinctive sound of energy blasts and a bit of Russian cursing. The wall shattered like glass and the Titanium man came bouncing across the way like a giant, heavily armored tennis ball.
There was another blast that sent the major stumbling backwards.
He slumped against the wall, blinking away dust.
“Who dares intrude upon Doom?” The monarch of Latveria shouted, striding through the hole in the wall.
# # # # #
Next issue: What the heck is going on…?
Location: Classified.
The room was sterile and functional, all whites and grays. The only furniture consisted of a single hospital bed and a plain metal chair, both occupied.
A broad shouldered man with reddish-blonde hair, clad in a white, short-sleeved hospital smock lay on the bed, appearing to be asleep. Numerous electrodes, IV tubes and sensor pads were affixed to his arms, legs, neck and temples, connecting him to the banks of equipment that took up one wall of the room.
Sitting pensively in the chair, her shoulders slumped, her hands clasped in her lap was a thin, blonde woman in a black bodysuit trimmed with yellow.
She leaned forward and reached out to stroke the sleeping man’s brow.
She pulled back her hand and leaned back in her seat, her posture as close to relaxing, as the chair would allow.
After several moments, the door slid open and a most unusual being entered. He was humanoid in build: his features were very vague and basic. He was like a manikin made of silver. He wore a black bodysuit, with a red stripe down one side, as well as red boots and gauntlets.
“Ah, Miss Petrovia*,” it said, in a metallic sounding voice.
(*All dialogue translated from Russian for the convenience of the reader- you’re welcome, the author)
“Hello, Vostok,” she replied, quietly. “How is my brother doing?”
“Using his mutant ability to re-channel energy has allowed us to…ah, I am being too literal…ahem…he is doing fine, Miss Petrovia.”
“You can call me Laynia,” she said, looking up and smiling, slightly. “Or Darkstar, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” the silver man replied, smiling back. His smile didn’t quite work, as it appeared that he was not entirely sure which muscles in his face did what. “Your brother, Vanguard…Nicolai’s vital signs are quite steady. He is absorbing the energy. I calculate that he will recover consciousness within a week to ten days.”
Laynia merely smiled and nodded.
She and her brother were mutants, raised in a government institution, where their powers had been honed. They had then become Darkstar and Vanguard, two of Russia’s very small population of costumed superheroes. They had been a part of several versions of the original Russian super heroes, Soviet Super Soldiers.
Following a schism of belief between them and their government liaisons, the siblings had broken with the government and operated as super heroes, while living as fugitives within the Soviet Union.
It was while having joined with a mix of American super heroes on a mission into space that Vanguard was injured so gravely that it was believed he was dying.
Unsure where to turn, Darkstar had returned to the Russian government and made a deal, exchanging her rejoining the Super Soldiers, now renamed the Winter Guard, for her brother’s medical care.
She was thrilled at the rate of her brother’s recovery, but felt conflicted and anxious in putting herself, once again, in the power of the Russian government. She sighed. So far, her missions had been public relation appearances and a few battles with Russia’s meager super-villain population. Her handlers had had enough sense to keep her away from any military or KGB-backed missions.
Vostok was an artificial intelligence; the brain patterns of a deceased cosmonaut imprinted upon a robot body. He was near invulnerable and had a genius-level I.Q., but was regulated more to science consultant then fieldwork.
“I do not mean to interrupt,” Vostok said. “I was sent, not only to check on your brother, but to convey a message. You are required in the operations center.”
“I hear my master’s voice,” Darkstar muttered to herself. She levitated up out of her chair, a nimbus of black energy enveloping her body. It faded once her yellow booted feet touch the floor. “What does Madam X want from me now?”
“Colonel Bolokosky prefers that we not use her previous designation,” Vostok reminded her.
“I’m aware of that,” She sighed, moving to the door. “I will treat the Colonel with the respect she requires…to her face.”
Darkstar floated down the corridor, past technicians and security guards. She soon reached a meeting room, also done in white and grey, with a round table and a dozen chairs around it.
The room only had three occupants, a tall, broad shouldered man with short trimmed hair, who looked uncomfortable in his military uniform, sat at the table. A man in a costume roughly patterned on the design of Captain America’s, but with a red color scheme, white belt, boots, gloves and a white star on the chest. A round shield in a similar pattern was slung across his back. He sat across the table from the muscular soldier.
Standing at the front of the room was a thin middle-aged woman with a severe haircut and a military uniform with a knee-length skirt. She had the aura of a particularly strict teacher about her. She gave the briefest of nods, acknowledging Darkstar’s arrival and then clicked a small remote control.
The wall behind her slid back, revealing a large view screen, which currently showed a map of the Siberian wilderness. There was a large circled area that contained a blinking yellow light.
“Forty Eight hours ago,” Colonel Min Boloksy, one time masked agent, and now current liaison to the Winter Guard said. “A monitoring station in Svelensk picked up a signal from this location.”
“What is that?” The man with the shield asked.
“You are all aware of the existence of what have been nicknamed the ‘secret science cities’,” She answered. “Several of them were decommissioned…”
“Abandoned.” Darkstar murmured under her breath.
“During some financial and political restructuring…”
“The collapse,” Darkstar added.
The broad shouldered soldier looked uncomfortable and gave her a gentle nudge.
The Colonel focused an icy glare at the super heroine for a brief moment, and then returned to her presentation.
“This facility has been powered down and sealed for several decades,” She continued.
“The Winter Guard has been asked to investigate.”
The young soldier hesitantly raised a hand.
“Yes, Major Uriokovitch?”
“Do we know what is causing the energy trace?” He asked.
“We have not been able to identify a specific source, no.”
“Ah. Do we know what was being…um…studied?”
“That information is classified.”
“So, how are we supposed to actually find and deal with this problem?” Darkstar asked, irritably.
“We will be assigning a scientific consultant to your team,” The Colonel explained, stony faced. “He will also serve to replace the Crimson Dynamo, who is currently on loan to a military taskforce. I had hoped he would be more punctual…”
At that moment, the door slid opened and a middle-aged man limped into the room. He had a black beard, threaded with grey, and wore a white lab coat. His right leg, what protruded from his pant leg, appeared to be some kind of green metallic peg leg.
“Please excuse my lateness,” He said, sitting down. “A project was in a critical phase. Hopefully, I have managed to avoid the introductions and small talk and we can proceed to the actual mission parameters.”
“That is what you interrupted, Professor Bullisiki,” The Colonel explained.
“Bulliski…?” Both Darkstar and the Major exclaimed. “You are partnering us with the Titanium Man?!”
“I thought you dealt with all this drama already?” The professor asked, irritably
“It never seems to end,” The Colonel replied.
“How many watchdogs do you plan on setting on us?” Darkstar snapped, rising out of her seat.
The Major placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“Miss Petronova,” Colonel Bololosky said, not raising her voice, but focusing her imposing gaze upon the young heroine. “This facility has many amenities. Among them is a fully functioning front door. You are free at any time to take your brother and make use of it.”
“What?”
“You are not a prisoner,” The Colonel continued. “You approached the government with an agreement, of which we have upheld our part. Your brother is receiving excellent medical care and is well on his way to recovery. Now, you can either live up to your side of our agreement, like an adult, rather than a petulant child, or you are free to leave.”
There followed a raw silence, in which the two women locked gazes and everyone else in the conference room went silent, even the disdainful scientist.
“Fine,” Darkstar said, lowering her eyes. She sat down and the young major patted her shoulder gently.
The Colonel moved her head a fraction of an inch and then returned to the map.
“Our hope is that the energy pulse we are monitoring is due to equipment malfunction or some kind of power surge.,” She explained. “It is hoped that Professor Bololosky will merely have to locate the machinery in question and deal with it.”
“I have a question,” The Red Guardian said, speaking for the first time. “Is there a plan in place in the event this best case scenario does not occur?”
“That is what you three are for.”
“Excuse me…?” The Major asked, tentatively raising his hand. “But, if…um…the rumors about the…kind of projects that the science cities worked on are…uh…true, then is there a plan if we encounter something we cannot handle?”
The colonel gave the heroes a thoughtful glance than nodded to herself.
“A soviet tank corps will be on maneuvers, testing new targeting systems,” She explained tapping a place on the map near the location of the science city. “You will be provided with communication codes, as the Guardian and Professor Bololosky are on assignment as advisors. Any other questions?”
There were a few headshakes and general silence.
“Good. Your transport leaves in an hour.”
# # # # #
“The Avengers quinjet is heated,” Major Uriokivitch muttered, huddling deeper into his brown parka.
“And the seats were padded,” Darkstar added, smiling at her friend’s discomfort. The Winter guards’ mode of transport was a military troop plane. It was roomy and sturdy, but more practical than equipped for comfort or glamour.
She and the Major sat on a bare metal bench, bolted to the wall of the plane, at the far end from their teammates.
Red Guardian sat at the far end of the plane, arms crossed, either being stoic or catching some sleep before the mission.
Professor Boloolsky was in the back storage area, tending to his armor and equipment.
“You’d think they could have installed more heaters,” Urivitch said. “Or a coffee machine.”
“Our comfort is not their concern,” Darkstar shrugged.
“While, we have a moment,” The young solider said. “Layina, you need to…to…um…let some of this anger go. It is not helping.”
“You can’t expect me to trust those people…!” Darkstar replied, her voice beginning to rise.
“Layina,” He murmured putting a hand on her arm. “I am not your enemy. I entered into this…deal with the Winterguard with you in order to help your brother, my friend. I was there with you through all our problems and fights with the government. I share your worries, but at the same time, the government has held up their end of the deal, helping your brother and we have done some good during our time on the team.”
“We compromised our beliefs,” Darkstar said, lowering her head. “Even to save Mikail, perhaps there was another way…”
“Don’t be an idiot,”Urivitch muttered, causing Darkstar to look up in surprise at her normally soft spoken friend’s sharp tone. “You are taking care of your brother and you are also able to be a hero, like we always have worked to be, we were wasting a lot of time being fugitives.”
“But, we are being treated like children, like we cannot be trusted…”
“I’m not saying it’s perfect. No one expects you and Madam X to hug and become best friends, or that the Winter Guard will become the Avengers, but we are doing good and that is worth a little patience with the beauricrats and the watchdogs.”
“Fair enough,” Darkstar smiled, and leaned against her friend’s broad shoulder. “When did you get so wise…? I think I’ll leave you in charge. Wake me when we get there.”
# # # # #
Several hours later, the transport plane touched down on a wide, inhospitable stretch of the Siberian plains and the heroes emerged. Professor Boloolsky was now clad in the armor of the Titanium man. He stood roughly seven feet tall, the bulky armor covered in a shiny green plastic polymer. The faceplate on the helmet was blank except for a thin speaker grill and a pair of glowing eye lenses.
The Major wore a brown parka over his uniform, as did the Red Guardian. Darkstar wore a light jacket, but the cold didn’t seem to be affecting her.
The Titanium man took the lead, stomping across the plain towards the snow-covered dome. The other three used him as a windbreak, and followed behind.
Reaching the dome, the quartet stopped before a dirt and snow-smeared hatchway in the wall. Opening a panel in his gauntlet, the Titanium man tapped at a control panel and then touched a metallic finger to a small square next to the door. There was a sluggish humming sound and the hatchway jerkily slid open.
Growing impatient, the armored scientist reached out and pushed the door open. The hum was replaced by a grinding screech. He then ducked his head and stepped inside, followed quickly by his teammates.
They were in a large vestibule, all done in grey metal and plastic. There was a door at the far end of the room. Stationed by the door was a functionally plain metal desk and chair.
Across the way was a metal bench. Major Urivitch plopped down on it and rubbed his gloved hands together.
“Not much warmer in here than outside,” He muttered and shivered.
“So, only some systems came online…?” Red Guardian asked, peering around suspiciously.
“Or they never bothered to heat this room,” Titanium man said, not looking up from the desk. He slid open the middle drawer, revealing an ancient, dusty keyboard. He consulted his wrist device again, and then tapped out at the keyboard. Most of the keys cracked under the strength of his metal fingers.
The inner door slid slowly open, while the outer door struggled to slide closed, screeching to a halt still half open, wisps of smoke trickling from the doorjamb.
Titanium man peered at the outer door, shrugged and headed for the inner door. The others followed.
They were now in a wide, equally grey corridor. Both walls were lined with widely spaced, closed doors. At one end, there appeared to be a bank of elevators, at the other an open door that revealed some metal stairs.
“Looks like we may need to split up,” The Red Guardian said, after several moments thought.
“Split up?” Urivitch asked. “Like in American horror movies…?”
“Or more like split up so we can go on a wild goose chase, while they deal with whatever they were sent to take care of,” Darkstar said, frostily.
“This again?” Titanium man muttered. “If it’ll make you feel better, you and the Guardian can investigate the level below, while your playmate comes with me in search of a working computer. Happy…?”
Nether Darkstar, the Red Guardian or Major Urivitch had an expression that could be described as ‘happy’, but all three nodded and went on their accepted tasks.
Darkstar floated down the corridor to the open door. She was about to fly through it when the Red Guardian caught up to her.
“Stop!” He snapped, putting an arm out to bar her way.
“What?” She demanded, her clenched fists crackling with obsidian energy.
“You need to choose,” He said. “Between your tantrum or the success of this mission. Whatever your problem is with me, you need to let go until we are done here.”
“Whatever…?” Darkstar muttered. “You have hounded my brother and I for years, treated us like suspects rather than teammates…”
“That wasn’t me,” The Red Guardian interrupted.
“What?”
“I am not the Red Guardian that you previously worked with,” He explained. “I have been the Guardian for less than a year. The Guardian you are talking about died on a mission several years ago. There were two other Red Guardians between him and me.”
“What…?” Darkstar repeated, floating down, until her feet touched the floor. “How many Guardians have there been…?”
“You had no idea?” The Red Guardian asked. “Truly? The original Red Guardian was active during the Second World War. I have no idea how many there have been. I was in the military before being recruited into the Red Guardian program. In fact, on one of my earliest missions, my squad worked with your brother.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Darkstar said, shaking her head.
“I am not here to keep an eye on you,” The Red Guardian continued. “In fact, the Colonel is more concerned with Professor Boloosky than you. I understand, we may never be friends, but I am not your jailer or your watchdog. I wish only to serve my term as a Guardian and do what I can for Russia.”
Darkstar looked at the Red Guardian, peering into his eyes, studying his face, then sighed gave him a small, brief smile.
“Fair enough,” She said. “I don’t know either if we can be friends, but teammates would be a good start.”
“Good,” he said, nodding. “Now, I’d like to say, you are rushing around and that is not only dangerous, but stupid. We have to take this slower until we figure out what is going on.”
Darkstar raised a quizzical eyebrow at her teammates lecture.
“Why is this door open?” Red Guardian asked. “ What caused the scuff marks in the dust on the floor?”
“You think there was an intruder who activated whatever is causing the energy signal?” Darkstar asked.
“The door we used had been forced open before we arrived,” The Guardian said, kneeling down by the door. “And these scratch marks on this door were on the inner side and have no dust on them. Someone may have broken in or broken out.”
Darkstar began to look around, concerned that there may now be the added worry of some assailant lurking in the shadows.
They stepped into the stairwell. Darkstar peered down the metal stairs, counting how many landings she could see, before it grew too dark.
“At least twelve floors,” She muttered to herself. She glanced over at the Red Guardian, who was studying a plaque set in the wall.
It had a column of words on one side, and then a second column of numbers.
“A directory…?” She asked.
“Yes, and I didn’t brush the dust off it,” He remarked, not looking away from it. “Only problem is every project or section is listed by a ‘codename’ of some kind…’Project: Scarab”…no idea what that means…”
“It’s a kind of beetle, from Egypt,” Darkstar said.
“That part I do know,” He said. “It’s what giving a project that name means. It could be anything.”
“Starlight…?” Darkstar said, reading over his shoulder. “Why does that sound familiar…?”
“Guess there’s nothing to do but explore until we find something that points us in the right direction.” The Red Guardian shrugged. He then tapped his earpiece. “Titanium man? Are you reading me?”
“Yes,” The professor’s voice responded. “Looks like our concern about communications were unfounded.”
“We’ll see about that when we get farther apart. We are going to descend to the next level. Found anything helpful?”
“Still attempting to find a working computer. Happy hunting.”
“You too.”
The Guardian turned to Darkstar and made a ‘after you’ gesture.
“Ladies first?” He asked.
“How gallant,” Darkstar said, flying down to the next level.
# # # # #
Titanium man tapped his communicator off and turned to his teammate.
“Well, I don’t look forward to stumbling around in the dark. We need a better way. Come on.”
He stomped down the corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing and the major trailing after him.
“How?” He asked.
“We need access to the computer system or some comprehensive diagrams of the complex, perhaps,” The Titanium man shrugged. “Let them prowl through the labs, it’s the administrative offices that will show us the way.”
The mismatched duo made their way along the corridor, investigating each office they encountered. A half dozen later found them, sitting amongst banks of ancient computer consoles and piles of paperwork and files.
Due to the size and weight of his armor, none of the furniture could support the Titanium man. He was forced to kneel in front of a desk while he attempted to coax some crumbs of information from a clunky, dusty plastic keyboard and monitor.
Major Urivitch, having shrugged out of his heavy weather gear, was slumped in a chair, peering, bleary eyed over numerous rows of facts and figures.
“How did they ever run these places…?” He grumbled. “Nothing I read makes any sense!”
“Ah, the good old days,” His armored teammate said, bitterly. “That perfect marriage of stark paranoia and bureaucracy…we were able to accomplish so much more when everyone was too nervous to dare ask what we were working on and where the funds were going…”
“All I can figure is that this station was split into two main sections,” The Major continued. “Biological research and mechanical…I think the implication is the mechanical side was working on robotics…Project Dybbuk…?”
“A Dybbuk is a spirit that inhabited a host body to roam the world,” Titanium man muttered. “I believe that is where some of the research that resulted in your tin man originated…it did a lot of work in artificial intelligence and robotics”
“Vostok…?”
“Yes, as well as some of the designs for the original Crimson Dynamo armor.” Titanium man tapped away, gingerly at the keyboard.
“What about your armor?” The major asked, looking up from his reading.
“I did some of my early work on it at a similar facility.”
“What about this?’ Urivitch asked, unfolded a large piece of paper. “It looks like a map of the base.”
He spread it out on the empty corner of the desk. Titanium man glanced over.
“Hmmm, looks like a floor plan…appears they had plans for some renovations before the shutdown…”
He reached out and traced some lines on the chart with an armored finger.
“Not sure how accurate this might be,” He said, getting to his feet. “But, it’s an improvement. If the elevators are working, I think we need to go…hmmm…let’s see…ah, here…sub-level eight seems to be where the main labs were…best bet for finding something.”
The duo made their way to the end of the corridor to the elevators. Urivitch pressed the recall button. Then pushed it again after several moments went by with no results.
“Why do people do that?” Titanium man muttered, driving his fingers in-between the doors and prying them apart. “Do you think the more times you hit the button the faster the elevator will go?”
He forced the doors apart and the two men peered down the shaft.
“If everybody left, why is the car at the bottom?” Urivitch asked.
“Interesting question,” The Titanium man asked, grabbing his team mate by the back of his uniform and tucking him under one massive arm. “Let’s find out.”
With that he leapt down the shaft, his boot jets slowing the fall. The young soldier still winced all the way down.
They landed with a thud on the top of the elevator car, Titanium man’s weight causing the roof to creak and buckle a bit.
“I am not a shopping bag!” Urivitch protested climbing loose and standing up. “You could have told me what you had planned!”
The armored scientist ignored him and kneeled down. He thrust his hand through the metal of the car roof and peeled it back until there was room for him to jump down.
The elevator door was open, revealing another long corridor, again, lined with doors. Most were double doors, a few appeared to have been torn off their hinges and one set, at the far end of the corridor had a flickering light coming from underneath it.
“That looks promising,” Titanium man said.
“We should probably check in with the others,” Urivitch suggested, doubtful of the scientists’ definition of ‘promising’.
“I’m sure I can handle what ever we find, “The Titanium man said, making his way down the corridor. “No point in distracting them from their own, I’m sure, fruitful explorations.”
# # # # #
“I think we’re lost,” Red Guardian muttered, looking around.
“This is level three,” Darkstar muttered, as she floated along the corridor. “The sign said so.”
The lights were dim. Half of them were out and the ones that did work, only flickered weakly. The Guardian pulled a white plastic mini-flashlight from his belt and ran it over the identification plaques on the walls by each door.
“This looks to be just…administration,” He muttered.
“If someone did break in,” Darkstar suggested, leaning forward, where she floated, trying to catch a better glimpse of the light coming from under the door. “Maybe they wanted information, rather than to steal…whatever weapons were being made here?”
“This was a research facility, not just…” Red Guardian began.
“I know you think I’m pessimistic, but you can’t be so naïve to tell me this place wasn’t a weapons testing lab?” Darkstar said, with a cynical smile. “If all the room holds is filing cabinets, why are we hanging back?”
Feeling he was being pushed into acting before it was probably a good idea, by his teammates’ challenging tone, the Red Guardian, shifted his shield from his shoulder to his arm and strode toward the door in question.
With his free hand, he pushed one of the double doors open and stepped cautiously into the room.
Darkstar waited for a moment, and hearing nothing but footsteps, shrugged and flew after her teammate. Just as she reached the door, she heard a grunt of surprise and the Red Guardian came crashing through the double doors, hitting the wall on the other side of the corridor hard enough to leave cracks. He slumped to the dusty floor, looking dazed.
“What in the world…!” Darkstar exclaimed, rushing to her teammates’ side.
“Guardian…?” She asked, kneeling by his side and nudging his shoulder.
“Uh…um…mu-move, Darkstar…!” He murmured, unsteadily, struggling unsuccessfully to regain his feet.
The Russian heroine turned towards the double doors, her hands raised and black energy crackling from her fingertips.
Crowded in the doorway, was what appeared to be a pair of beetles, both ten feet tall and with shiny and bright red caprices.
“Project: Scarab,” She muttered, in a tone that mixed annoyance with a touch of fear. “Of course…it would be…!”
# # # # #
“This should be one of the main robotics labs,” Major Urivitch said, alternating between studying the floor plan they’d found and glancing around the corridor. “It seems to take up most of this level…looks like these other doors are…um…maintenance or…something…?”
“You’re going to just confuse me if you keep using all those technical terms,” Titanium man muttered, scratching at his armored chin absently. He glanced down at his wristband. “Getting energy readings…so something is active…interesting…let’s have a look.”
The Major was so engrossed in comparing the diagram to some papers he’d had tucked under his arm, that he didn’t immediately notice the team’s scientific advisor walking away until he heard the crash, the distinctive sound of energy blasts and a bit of Russian cursing. The wall shattered like glass and the Titanium man came bouncing across the way like a giant, heavily armored tennis ball.
There was another blast that sent the major stumbling backwards.
He slumped against the wall, blinking away dust.
“Who dares intrude upon Doom?” The monarch of Latveria shouted, striding through the hole in the wall.
# # # # #
Next issue: What the heck is going on…?