Showing posts with label Luke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke. Show all posts

Friday, 17 April 2015

1949 - Founding

An armoured man stands next to another man in a white costume with blue gloves and boots. Despite the second man’s pure white hair, he is actually in the peak of health. The first man’s armour is somewhat streamline despite remaining blocky. It looks dangerous yet it remains reassuring.

“So this is it,” says the costumed man, “We’re making it official.”

“It is a good thing Lantern,” replies the man in the power armour, “We have been active for a year now and the public is going to know regardless of what we do. It’s not like we can keep hidden. At least this way we’re keeping on top of things.”

“You don’t need to convince me pal,” replies Lantern, “We already discussed this with the others and 

I agree that it is necessary. And I understand it is harder for you to avoid the public eye whilst running around in that bulky armour of yours Sentinel.”

“It’s not that bulky,” protests Sentinel, “Especially compared to some of the others. Take Iron Defender or Stahl Krieger for example. And don’t even get me started that Russian guy, the Steel Worker.”

“He’s dead you know,” says Lantern, “Steel Worker was slain fighting Sickle and Hammer a few days ago.”

“Damn,” curses Sentinel, “I didn't exactly like that guy, but he was alright for a Red. Especially since he became a Comrade.”

“I agree it’s a shame that those Stalinist scum killed Steel Worker,” says Lantern, “But there isn't much we can do about it. Not anything that we can do when you think about so let’s focus on what we can do here and today.”

“Save the speeches for the press,” says Sentinel in joking tone, “I know you too well for those little speeches of yours to be awe-inspiring.”

“I would say they’re awe-inspiring...” replies Lantern with a shrug and using the small joking tone as his friend, “But even you have to admit they’re pretty good.”

“Paragon’s were better,” counters Sentinel.

“Yeah, but he’s Paragon,” protests Lantern, “At least I’m better than Sarge or that wife of yours.”
“Jean is pretty good at speeches I’ll have you know,” says Sentinel with mock seriousness as he defends his wife.

“I gave, I gave,” says Lantern as he holds his hands up in mock surrender, “But has Sarge decided on a new codename yet? I know he’s not going with Sergeant Strong anymore and we need to announce the codenames of all our members.”

“Commando,” answers Sentinel, “He is a member of the Royal Marine Commandos as his day job.”

“Do you think his bosses will have a problem with-” Lantern starts to speak, but pauses as a smartly dressed man in a suit enters the backroom they’re waiting in.

“Sentinel, Lantern,” the man greets them, “They’re ready for you now.”

“Thanks Steven,” replies Sentinel, “Ready Lantern?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” answers Lantern, “Let get this over with.”

Lantern leads the way as he walks through the door with Sentinel following him.

They enter a large hall with fancy podium at the front. The rest of the room is filled with reporters and photographers sitting down on their chairs.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen,” says Lantern as he strides forward as the cameras flashes die down, “I’m sure you remember me from my role in the war and that the recent actions of myself and my friends have refreshed those memories if you have forgotten. But for formality’s sake, I am Lantern, former captain in the British army.”

“And I am the Sentinel, former RAF sergeant,” says Sentinel as he stands next to Lantern, “Both of us are former members of Lion Squad.”

“Now before we get to questions, I would like to explain the situation and what exacting is happening,” continues Lantern, “That’ll save time as we’ll hopefully be able to answer many of your questions in the process.”

Lantern pauses.

“Now as you know, Lion Squad was a special operation unit formed during the war,” says Lantern, “We were pulled together from many different parts of the military and empire. What we had in common was our powers or gifts. And once the war had ended, Lion Squad was disbanded and the majority of us returned to our lives here in England or started new ones here. Unfortunately, home had changed during the war as while the war was being fought, the mob decided to move in and prey on those that live here. Once we returned, we took offense at such a thing and decided to do something about it. We started our crusade for justice when Sentinel here uncovered a protection racket whilst simply out for coffee.”

Lantern stops speaking and lets Sentinel take over.

“That’s right except for one thing,” says Sentinel, “I was having a cup of tea, not coffee. Upon discovering the racket, I felt that I should do something about it. After all, I fought against the Barbarian, small armies and killer automatons so why should I just roll over for the mob. That night I retrieved the old Sentinel armour prototype from my basement and took down some members of protection racket after they threaten me using some guns left over from the war. As you know, I left them to the police once I had stopped them.”

“After that,” says Lantern, “He informed the rest of us, Lion Squad that is, of what had occurred. We need decided the same thing as Sentinel, that we weren’t going to stand idly by after all that we had been through. We worked together to fight the mob and their enforcers. Due to not being soldiers in a war, we did our best to refrain from killing and maiming our opponents. We also avoided holding them prisoner. Instead we collected evidence and turned it over to the authorities to defeat them long term. While we personally stopped the local mob operations, we haven’t done anything beyond stopping them on a street level. No executions or torturing. Instead we let long term justice be handled by the proper authorities.”

“Last week we took down the leaders of the local mob,” continues Lantern, “As you heard, they had a powered mercenary with them.”

Sentinel smiles beneath his helmet as he remembers that. The poor guy had pretty good powers, some powerful pyrokinesis and a decent amount of superspeed. Unfortunately for him, the Sentinel armour is fireproof and Vibration was much faster.

“We were easily able to take him down, capture the mob bosses and obtain enough evidence for the courts to be able to put them away for a long time,” says Lantern, “Once that was done, we returned to Sergeant Strong’s house to discuss our future. There we realise that was still countless injustice going on and what while we were able to doing something about, we couldn’t just stand idle by. Just as we couldn’t stand idle by when we dealt with the mob. As of such, we decided an organised response would be better than a disorganised response. After discussing it amongst ourselves and sorting out details between us, we approached the authorities with our plans. We will act as vigilantes who act against crime. But we won’t kill or inflict injuries that won’t heal with time. We will hand over those we stop to the proper authorities and let the due process decide their fates. We’ll collect evidence in a proper manner and hand it over to the police to do what they will. We’ll make our activities public and hold ourselves accountable to public even if we keep our identities secret to keep our families safe and to live normal lives. We shall never harm the innocent and we shall protect our country and its people. There eight of us in total. All you should know or heard of them even if they now go by different names. There is myself and our leader, Lantern. You know Sentinel. We also have Sergeant Strong who now goes by Commando. We have Vibration, Shadow Beast and Bolt. Psychic has also joint us. We even have Gateway, former French resistance leader and wife of the Sentinel. Together we form the new League of Heroes!”

Friday, 20 March 2015

1950 - Sentinel Technologies

“Glad you could make it,” says Iron Defender as Sentinel sits down next to her.
He’s one of the few people to know that she is actually a she. Still a little too much bias against women for Iron Defender’s taste and since her armour allows her to pass a man in the eyes of the public, she doesn’t correct their assumptions on the matter.
“Glad I could come,” replies Sentinel, “Are you still with the Patriots?”
“Yeah,” answers Iron Defender, “They still have to get around to disbanding us. I doubt they will now. Not with the Russians and Adalbern in Europe. Plus I think the government is worried about the Knights.”
“Also worried about the new batch of supers appearing all over the States?” inquires Sentinel.
“I would bet so,” says Iron Defender, “We’re heroes, famous heroes who served in the war and whom the public love given our actions and the propaganda. With more supers rapidly appearing, the government needs us as examples and doesn’t want to let us go.”
“Ours disbanded Lion Squad after the war,” says Sentinel, “We weren’t like you, our unit was a collection of people with powers drawn from across the military. Don’t get me wrong, we would still die for each other and have decided to live near each other once everything was over, but we weren’t meant to be as close as the Patriots in the eyes of the bureaucracy.”
Sentinel pauses before deciding to get on with the point.
“What’s the situation with ownership of your armour?” inquires Sentinel.
“Government owns it, but I get to use as long as I work for them,” shrugs Iron Defender, “What about you?”
“The government took the one I used in the war,” replies Sentinel, “It was theirs after all, but I had the patent and the prototype. I kept it in my basement until I had to deal with the mob. Since then I built an improved version that I’m wearing now.”
“I assuming that is a reason behind this questioning,” says Iron Defender.
“As you know,” says Sentinel, “We, Lion Squad that is, decided to form the League of Heroes, a group of organised powered vigilantes to fight crime.”
“We all heard about that,” replies Iron Defender, “Our government decided to tighten their hold on us after that so we’re not particularly sure how to feel about it.”
“While we do have some equipment and resources at our disposal,” says Sentinel, “We still need a source of income and I still need a new job so I decided to start my own businesses, one for each of my identities. I will use them to support each other and the League of Heroes. My secret identity one will be the minor one which will have connection with the Sentinel from ties in the war. The other one will be the main one where I use the money gained to support the League of Heroes. For that I plan to use to sell gadgets to other hero groups, governments and whoever else I decide. But that means acquiring patents and those patents will hinder people like you from starting your own businesses. I checked with other folk like us. Steel Warrior doesn’t mind. He’s content to work for Adalbern given he’s the only adult German super left after the war. And you heard about Steel Worker. Everybody else is either dead or I don’t know about.”
“I’m going say go for it,” answers Iron Defender, “I wouldn’t be able to make money off my stuff anyway given the strings that come with it. And since Black Cape left, I don’t think any of us are going to be leaving the Patriots anytime soon.”
“Good,” replies Sentinel, “Because I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you weren’t.”
Iron Defender chuckles and Sentinel smiles beneath his helmet.
“So idea what you’re going to call it?” inquires Iron Defender.

“Probably something simple and to the point,” answers Sentinel, “I’m the first so I don’t have to stand out from the crowd. And while I am trying to make money, that isn’t my first priority either so I doesn’t have to be fancy. Since I’m selling technology invented by the Sentinel persona, I think I’ll call it Sentinel Technologies.”

Tuesday, 17 February 2015

1948 - Luke

Luke walks down the streets of Lyndhurst. His hair is a ruffled mess of short brown hair while his eyes are a sharp blue. The RAF veteran is in his early twenties and is in the peak of normal human health.
Well, not quite the peak. He isn’t an enhanced human after all.
So he’s not superhuman, but he as close as any normal person can get with his Sentinel armour.
Or he was. The military and government confiscated it after the war, claiming it belong to them as they had paid for it. Which, to be fair, was actually true even if Luke had been the one to invent, design, maintain, repair and use the suit of armour.
Still, he’s got the old prototype in his cellar that the authorities don’t know about. And it isn’t like he can’t design and build another if he has to.
But that’s in the past, thinks Luke, today I am having coffee with Gordon, my old war buddy. Well, Gordon is having coffee at least, I personally prefer tea. Milk with no sugar to be precise.
Gordon is waiting at the local cafe. The man is in his late twenties, but appears older thanks to his scars and choice of clothing. A short mane of black hair and a mildly buff body are Gordon’s main features. The miss-match of scars covering his body aren’t apparent until you get a closer look.
Luke got his closer look when Gordon needed medical attention a few years back in the middle of the war.
Today, like Luke, Gordon is wearing a tucked in shirt and rugged trousers. Unlike Luke, Gordon is also wearing a brown woollen coat.
“Hello Luke,” greets Gordon as Luke enters the shop.
“Hello to you too Gordon,” replies Luke before taking a seat at Gordon’s table.
“Shall I order?” asks Gordon, “I take it that you’ll have your usual.”
“Tea with milk and no sugars,” nods Luke.
Luke looks around. The place is quieter than usual. At least quieter than Luke what remembers.
It’s not long before Gordon returns with a cup of tea in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He hands the tea to Luke before sitting back down.
“Do I wanted to know where you got the money from?” inquires Luke.
“Probably not,” grins Gordon.
“True,” says Luke as he takes a sip of tea, “So how is Linda?”
“She’s fine,” says Gordon, “My wife is looking after Charles back at the house.”
“How is Charles?” asks Luke.
“The lad is a healthy kid,” replies Gordon, “He’ll make a fine replacement.”
“How does Linda feel about that?” inquires Luke.
“She knew it was going to happen,” shrugs Gordon, “Linda isn’t bother by it. Especially since it is so far off. How’s your wife?”
“We’re fine,” Luke replies, “I’m going to start my own business.”
“What about the suit?” inquires Gordon.
“I got the prototype,” Luke answers, “And I been working on my base as well.”
“You’re getting back into the game,” notes Gordon, “You wouldn’t have built the underground bunker otherwise.”
“I might not wear the suit,” counters Luke, “I might just run the place while the others do their stuff.”
“You’re taking my training,” insists Gordon, “And you’re not the type to sit out of a fight.”
“I don’t even have any reason to wear the suit anymore,” disagrees Luke.
“Here comes your reason now,” says Gordon as he leans back in his chair.
Luke turns around to spot a man in a striped suit and a bowler hat enter the shop. Despite being well dress, the man has a grubby feel to him in Luke’s expert opinion.
The man strolls up to the counter as if he owns the place. The workers and manager seems to be extremely worried. A couple that were drinking some coffee quickly hurry out of the building.
Indignation fills Luke as recognises what is going on. A mob protection racket in his hometown.
To be honest, Lyndhurst isn’t quite his hometown as he was born and raised in Southampton and he currently lives in Ashurst with his wife, but the principle remains the same.
“Excuse me,” says Luke to Gordon as he gets to his feet.
For his part, Gordon nods and grins.
As the manager begins to hand over notes to the mobster, Luke walks up to the man.
“Hello,” says Luke as he taps the man on the back.
Surprised, the man turns around. He glares at Luke and takes him in before he smirks smugly. 
“Who do you think you are?” demands the mobster.
“The war vet who didn’t come home to put up with a protection racket in this village,” replies Luke coldly, “Leave before I make up.”
“As if a punk like you could,” snorts the man, “Stay out of our way or you and your family might suffer accidents.”
He tries to shove Luke away, but Luke grabs the man and tosses him over his shoulder. Before the man can get up, Luke punches him in the head a couple of times, leaving the mobster out cold.
Luke looks outside as the police sirens bellow from outside.
“I called them,” says Gordon, “Now come and finish your tea.”
***
Luke got the Sentinel armour prototype out that night.
It isn’t much, lacking the rocket pack, weighing more and having a thicker and bulker design. But it still has the Kinetic Energy Redirectors and increases the speed and strength of the wear.
Oh and it has bulletproof armour that saved his life and countless others who knows how many times.
Luke is currently waiting near the coffee shop at about ten at night. The place is just shutting up for the night and Luke expects to the mob to send more people, either to get their money and/or to make an example.
He’s not overly worried about the threats the mobster made against his family. His parents are protected and his brother lives in America. His wife was a leader in the French Resistance during the war and has superpowers of her own.
A car rolls up outside and a group of three mobsters get out. Each is supporting sidearms. Probably leftovers from the war that was discard once it ended.
“Alright,” says the leader of the group, “You know the plan. We take double for our trouble and get the address of the tea-drinking hero. You can ruff the folks here up a bit, but no more that a bit.”
“Got it Jeremy,” grunts one of the other men.
Time to make his entrance, thinks Luke as he steps out of the shadows and towards the mobsters.
All of them draw their pistols and stare wide-eyed at Luke. They definitely weren’t expecting a famous superpowered war hero to show up tonight.
And the best part, thinks Luke, is that all of this is all illegal so he can roughen up the men as much as he likes. And with his secret identity, the authorities or mob won’t be able to go after him. At least he hopes the authorities won’t.
“*&@# this,” curses the mobsters’ leader, Jeremy, “Back off mister. We don’t want any trouble and we’ll shoot you if we have to.”
Bad move, thinks Luke, a harmless threat and a reason for Luke to beat them up.
“If you didn’t want any trouble,” says Luke, the voice changer masking his normal voice, “The mob should have stayed away from my hometown.”
“Damn you,” shouts one of the other men and opens fire on Luke.
The bullets ping against the Sentinel armour, leaving small dents as Luke charges forward. He slams into the man, sending him flying into the car.
Luke swings his fist into another mobster’s gut, winding the man and making him drop his pistol.
He turns to face the mobster called Jeremy and reaches out and yanks his pistol out of his hand.
“Who do you work for?” demands Luke.
“You won’t hurt me,” quivers Jeremy, “Y-you’re one of the heroes.”
Luke kicks the man in the leg. Jeremy drops to the ground crying.
“Who do you work for?” repeats Luke.
“Mr Thorpe,” cries Jeremy from the ground, “Lucas Walton Thorpe. I don’t know anyone else.”
“Here come the police,” says a bystander from inside the coffee shop.
Luke looks down the road. Two police constables are running down the road.
Checking to make sure none of the mobsters are going anywhere, Luke places a trio of spyder-bots on the car so he can track it later.

With that done and his business tonight concluded, the Sentinel runs off into the night.