The Hero Beat

The New Paragon City Free Press

2005-09-03T00:00:00.000-04:00

Great news, readers. My new home, the new Paragon City Free Press newspaper, is live and we are recruiting new reporters and columnists!

You can find all of my previous Hero Beat columns below transferred over, as well as new ones. You'll also find Paragon City Free Press news and forums, and an encyclopedia of information in a new wiki as well. I hope that you will come by and enjoy the new site!

Cheers and keep up the good fight,
Tony "News Man" Vazquez
Editor in Chief
Paragon City Free Press

Soon to be Moving

2005-08-07T09:00:00.000-04:00

For those who are wondering what has happened to the Hero Beat column, it is still alive. I have recently moved from the Paragon Mirror to the Paragon City Free Press, and because of my agreement with the paper, I have retained the rights to the Hero Beat column name and all of the previously written columns. I will soon be officially moving it to its new home at the Paragon City Free Press site, where I will be a Chief Editor, a reporter, and a columnist. It is a lot of hats to wear, and I have been spending the past few weeks in preparation for the change.

I am hoping that everything will be ready very soon, and in the meantime, please take the time to check out an exciting new radio station in Paragon City, The Cape. Or, of course, feel free to read my old columns, which will remain at this site.

The Value of Influence

2005-06-26T09:00:00.000-04:00

Last Thursday, I went to have lunch with Tony Kord, the multimillionaire owner of Kord Technologies. We went to Foracini’s, a really nice Italian restaraunt in The Promenade. The host recognized me from a little favor I had worked on for the owner a while back involving keeping some Hellions from bothering the staff at night, so although there is usually a long wait at lunchtime, we managed to get seated right away. One of the other patrons took exception to our quick seating and started protesting. Tony, always the diplomat (and apparently quite hungry), quickly stepped in and offered to pay the bill of other patron and his friends for the inconvenience. The patron agreed and walked away still somewhat irritated, but placated.

Tony and I started chatting about things going on in the city when his assistant buzzed him on his walkie-talkie cell phone from the office and said that a hero named Xiphias needed some new Wetware auxiliary boosters, that he was running out of “juice” during battles.

Tony whipped out his PDA, poked at it for a few seconds, and replied, “Sure, Richard, send four of them over to his base. The location is in our encrypted contact database.”

I found it slightly strange that Tony was willing to simply hand over four Wetware boosters, which retail for over $15,000 each, to a hero that I had never heard of before. I asked him who this Xiphias hero was and why he rated so high in Tony’s book to simply hand over equipment like that.

Tony explained that Xiphias has been protecting commercial fishing vessels from attack for over a decade, and at his request in the late 1990’s, Xiphias expanded his activities to protect all commercial vessels travelling to or from Independence Port. As it turns out, these vessels are in constant peril from the Tsoo, who wish to expand the Pacific shipping market—and the Asian companies that use it—to the Unites States. Also, of course, the organized crime families want a cut of all action in Independence Port and were a persistent threat as well.

The reason Tony got involved with Xiphias is that Independence Port is a major shipping terminus for Kord Technologies to its European markets, and several of the company’s boats were hijacked over the course of several years in the 1990’s, costing the company millions of dollars. So Xiphias agreed to curb the crime in the area, and in exchange, Tony provides Xiphias with funds and resources he would not otherwise have access to.

Both the incident with the restaraunt patron and the relationship between Tony Kord and Xiphias show something that readers sometimes write to me about: Heroes have influence. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, but always some amount that they leverage to get what they need to continue the battle against evil. In Paragon City, a hero soon learns that influence is even more valuable than dollars. A hero’s influence, if high enough, allows him or her to get any equipment that is needed. The influence provided by high-level contacts such as Tony Kord and others around the city is what drives many heroes to engage in most of the missions they undertake. In short, in Paragon City, it is what makes the world go ’round.

I stopped by City Hall after lunch to pick up my assault rifle that I use on my missions, and I started talking with Chalise Hardy, the armament inventory control clerk for the Freedom Corps in Galaxy City. I asked her if she thought that influence played an important part of a hero’s status in Paragon City.

She walked to a weapons rack and pulled out an axe. “This is the Axe of Nidhor. The Persian Princess retrieved it from the Circle of Thorns a few weeks ago. Today, a hero called Korfell is coming to pick it up to use. Last week, he saved Azuria’s aunt. Do you think that is a coincidence?” She walked back to the weapons rack and picked up a sword. “This is Mirabelle Kowalski’s katana that she’s used for the last two years. She left it here to have it sharpened and for the handle to be re-wrapped. Know where she got it? She rescued Susan Davies’ son from the Hellions. You know Susan, the ELITE hero liason? Do you think she just gives her weapons collection away for nothing?” She went back to the weapons rack and picked up my LXR-804 Super Assault Rifle that I had left to be cleaned. “Where did you get your weapon, by the way?” Chay already knew, because she is the one that approved my weapons registration form when I arrived here in 2002.

But it was only then that it occurred to me that she was right. I got my weapon from a contact I used to work with when I went on missions in foreign countries. He gave it to me after a covert operation to take out a secret weapons manufacturing plant in Honduras. The target was a really nasty place run by really nasty people, and it definitely had to be taken out, but the fact that it was run by rivals of my contact probably put him in a little more of a gracious mood than he would have normally been, which is why he gave to me—free of charge—the latest test model weapon that his company had been working on.

I like to think that influence is a good thing. The more respect I have from my contacts, the more tools and gadgets I have access to. The more trust I have from them, the more important the missions I get assigned to.

So whether it’s getting a new enhancement for your weapon, a new gadget to help in your fights, or just getting a good table at a nice Italian restaraunt, there is no doubt that influence is a very important part of the hero’s life in Paragon City.

The Fall of a Hero

2005-06-19T09:00:00.000-04:00

I apologize for the delay in submitting this column, but I have found something so important, it has taken me more than a week to process it all and compose a cohesive column about it. A week ago from last Tuesday, while on a task force, I found one of the most disturbing things I have ever seen: the chronicle of a gradual slip into the depths of madness. It was the personal journal of Dr. Benjamin Owens.

For those who aren't familiar with Dr. Owens, he was a former hero who called himself Gearsmith. From an early age, he had an uncanny knack for everything mechanical. By the age of 14, he had obtained PhD's in Electrical Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, and the relatively new field of Computer Science. He worked for Crey Biotech's Advanced Computer Applications division for a couple of years, then he was hired by Hero Corps to be the lead researcher for the Department of Advanced Technology Application. While there, he helped to develop the city's medical transportation grid and published the technology papers underlying most of the city's hero robots on the streets today. The work that Gearsmith performed while at Hero Corp made him a multi-millionaire, and by using statistical market simulators, he turned that money into billions.

Before the Rikti War, Gearsmith went to work for a secret government project called "Clockwork," a project that was formed to investiage the military application of using highly mobile "smart" robots. While other scientists toiled endlessly searching for more and more complex solutions, Gearsmith took a pioneering new approach, researching the possibility of controlling massive numbers of very simple self-replicating machines from a central command location. However, he was constantly stymied by the complexity of the control system; it had to be simple enough to use by a small team but smart enough to coordinate the activities of thousands of robots operating independently and simultaneously.

While working on the Clockwork project, Gearsmith's reputation changed from brilliant scientist to insatiable perfectionist. He relentlessly insisted that the control system he designed for the project was adequate, but it required a highly advanced mind to drive it. Some started to say that he had given up trying to find such an intellect and was focusing instead on creating it. The rumors kept gaining momentum until late 1999, when Gearsmith lost any illusion of respectability he had been able to maintain. It was discovered that he had been performing experiments in a secret biotech lab on terminally ill cancer patients in an attempt to separate their consciousnesses from their bodies.

When the authorities showed up to arrest Gearsmith, a large raging fire consumed the lab with him still in it, and everyone thought that was the end of a good hero gone bad.

Until a week ago from last Tuesday.

The book I found was a detailed journal kept by Gearsmith, and it turns out that he did not perish in the fire as everyone thought. The Paragon Mirror will publish a more complete synopsis of the journal at a later date, but I will continue the story in his own words by quoting excertps here.

February 12, 2000
Finally! I found the breakthrough I've been seeking since before they forced me to destroy the lab! I was so close, and I knew that a person's mind and body were separate, one able to exist without the other. It's so easy, I do not understand why more people don't see how obvious it is. We can keep a body alive for years, even decades, without a living mind; why would we not be able to do the opposite? They mocked my experiments. They called me "mad." But I will show them, the brilliant Dr. Owens will once again reclaim his former glory. Those who judge me because I killed a few people who were going to die anyway will now live with the disgrace of knowing that I was right, and that people can now live forever. I am glad I made this discovery, even if it was a mere hobby. Now I must find something new on which to focus my mind...

June 18, 2000
As Archimedes once said, eureka! However, Archimedes's simple machines are but tiny electrons revolving around the nucleus of this momentous discovery, and his works will soon be forgotten when I can once again proudly show the world my achievements. Although it has been almost a year since I worked on the Clockwork project, I finally have the answer that I sought for so long. With the neural interface I have developed, I am now able to control hundreds of simple machines in the confined space of the warehouse. If only I had more raw mental processing power to concentrate, I could control millions of advanced machines!

August 2, 2000
I am so close. The answer is within my grasp. Why didn't I think of it before? Probably because of the mass idiocy of most average dullards spewing that we only use a fraction of our brains. Every educated person knows that we use almost all of our brains for the menial task of running our inefficient bodies. [News Man's Note: In this statement, Dr. Owens is actually correct.] Pumping the heart, inflating and deflating the lungs, even the disgusting task of mere defecation has to take up the time of millions of glorious neurons. If God designed these hideous shells of our bodies to be so clumsy, then He was an idiot, and they might even start worshipping me instead! At any rate, I must now concentrate, because I believe that my earlier work in separating mind from body will now prove useful beyond even my wild imagination...

February 29, 2001
I think I have finally succeeded. I installed one of the cancer patient's brains that I preserved into a new model shell I created, and it was able to move and manipulate small objects around it. Of course, I destroyed any higher thought centers of the brain first. By automating the maintenance of the shell, in fact, I was able to remove almost everything behind the frontal lobe and much of the cortex, but I see no reason that it can't be left intact or even expanded to maintain consciousness. The neurons in the parietal lobe can be retrained to control external interfaces instead of muscular systems... [News Man's Note: A couple hundred pages of highly technical notes and biomechanical diagrams follow. I had no idea that Dr. Owens had become a genius in several medical fields as well.]

September 11, 2001
While the world turns its attention to attacks in New York City this morning, I am in the beginning stages of testing my most advanced shell design yet. The shell is completely self-contained, mobile, and self-sustaining. There is no reason it should ever die! I used the last of the preserved brains several months ago, so I have been forced to appropriate additional specimens among the homeless population. I am keeping a detailed record of all of their names, though. I am not a monster, and when I am restored to my former glory, I will remember the contributions of those who sacrificed themselves for my cause. Really, I will never understand why I am so gracious. In truth, they do not deserve the credit to be mentioned in anything with my name on it, since they were all so unwilling to become test subjects. In other matters, I fear that in my efforts, I may have attracted some unwanted attention from someone called Chrysis.

January 4, 2002
The experiments with my new shell design have been more successful than even I had anticipated! By using very carefully placed electrical impulses to implanted brains, I have been able to conduct a series of tests with repeatable results. The combined unit is able to control dozens of my sprockets and cogs that I have reconstructed from my days on the Clockwork project, and the combined unit's lifetime was determined at the whim of my termination button. If a brain as highly superior as mine were implanted, the unit could surpass the most ambitious expectations of the original project. I have never really considered this as a possibility, but I may actually be the perfect specimen to control this unit! This progress has not come without hinderance, however. Chrysis continues to plague my reserach. Today, ten crates of supplies I desperately needed were intercepted, which will set me back by a week. A week! That's like a year to most of the normal twits out there doing their petty research. I am afraid that I might have to put an end to these interruptions once and for all.

March 27, 2002
Another setback. It seems that I have my own personal nemesis now in this damned vigilante. The citizens of Paragon City are calling Chrysis a hero, a defender of justice. How dare they! If they only knew what I was working on, this Chrysis person would be immediately killed as an archvillain! I will definitely have to deal with this matter very soon. However, I also have good news. The simulated intelligence system has been evolving my designs for the Clockwork drones. They now have fully-developed weapons systems. Some of the more advanced models are quite powerful. I am starting to believe that I no longer want the glory that I have so desperately searched for in vain among the inferiors of this world who think they are my peers. If we are to ever continue evolving, they need a guide or a leader, no, a king! A king who will direct them benevolently towards the pursuit of the perfection of our species. I envision a day when all humans are enhanced by the machines on which I am working. Free of their worthless bodies they will never have to labor with a Clockwork kingdom to provide for their every need.

March 30, 2002
I have indeed dealt with Chrysis, but at what cost? In the battle, a bullet I fired ricocheted and punctured my left lung. I fear that I may not have much time left. These past few days, I have been working on the final preparations for the transfer of my own mind into my newest shell. It is a fully automated process, but I have not had enough time to test it. I am certain that it will work fine. After all, it was developed by me. However, I had not prepared to engage the process so early! Still, I cannot allow my knowledge to be lost when the world so needs it. I WILL NOT allow it to be lost!

[News Man's Note: The handwriting drastically changes.]

April 1, 2002
The process is complete. I have been made whole again. The shell is working perfectly. However, I did not realize what affect being removed from my body would have. I have completely lost all tactile, olfactory, and gustatory sensations. It will also take some time to become accustomed to the visual and aural sensory input interfaces. The Clockwork interface system seems to be working perfectly. I can not only control the robots, but I can actually "see" and "hear" through them as well. I do wish I had had more time to perfect the sensory inputs and the aesthetic appearance of the shell. Still, it is better than nothing. I have also given more thought to what I shall do now. The more I ponder my situation, the more I realize that the only logical way to proceed is to become king of this world and restore my access to research and materials through force if necessary. The Clockwork will serve not only as my subjects, but as my workforce and my army. I have started construction of a new batch of drones and instructed them to collect everything necessary to build even more. The simulated intelligence has began building additional advanced models of Clockwork. I facetiously named them Knights, Dukes and Princes until I thought of a better designation, but the more I think about these names, the more appropriate I think they are. These models will serve as my personal Court and field commanders, since humans are currently unworthy to function in this capacity. I have ordered that my former biological body be preserved in case the DNA might be useful at some point in the future. I do miss the sensations that have been removed, and some day, I will research how to improve this shell with advanced sensory inputs.

[News Man's Note: After that last entry, there was a long span of time during which there were no entries. The next one is vaguely unsettling.]

(No date)
There is a new villain seeking me out. I have dealt with many villains before, but this one is proving particularly noisome. Why must I be tasked so? It matters not; for soon, all of mankind will bow before the benevolent rule of the Clockwork King and his Court. Still, this new villain could prove dangerous. Many of my drones have been attacked and defeated, so many that I am having to dedicate extra drones to mere replication duties. This new villain reminds me so much of the vigilante who destroyed my body and left me to this metal shell. I must eliminate this new threat. I have absorbed the simulated intelligence into my my own body and together, we are working on the construction of the most powerful Clockwork yet: a mighty Paladin who will be my avatar in the world, and a personal guard I shall call Babbage that will defend me against all villains, including this new nemesis if need be. The world will soon know the true glory of the achievements I have made!

The following photograph was tucked in the back of the journal, and on the back, these words were written: "Shell Test Subject Epsilon, able to maintain cerebral sustenance and control functions. A promising prototype."

I have written in the past about what motivates a hero to be a hero. Now I have some insight into what motivates a villain to be a villain, and frankly, this scares me much more than any enemy I have ever fought. Gearsmith was a great man, and it is hard to imagine what could cause his mind to become so twisted. I hope that there are heroes out there who will address this problem. I talked to Brighid Moreira, the City Representative, on Friday. She said that Synapse is working on a way to end the threat of the Clockwork King. If you see any of the Clockwork King's drones, I urge you to stay away. If you are a hero interested in possibly working to put an end to this, please seek out Synapse, usually found close to the PTA train station in Skyway City.

On a personal note, I hope that all heroes take notice. The Clockwork King was a hero, too. He still remains convinced that what he is doing is for the benefit of humankind. It just goes to show that there is sometimes a very thin line between virtue and vice, a line that is usually obscured by obsession.

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

The Not-So-Heroic Life

2005-06-05T09:00:00.000-04:00

Hey, all. Today, I would like to bring to you a side of being a hero that most heroes do not like to admit exists: failure.

Most heroes would like the public--and especially, the bad guys--to think that they always succeed with stunning glory. Every mission ends with a lot of heroes celebrating their victory with high-fives and dancing on the bodies of their fallen enemies, right?

Unfortunately, as you can see from the number of bad guys still out there, from street thugs to powerful archvillains, this is not always the case. Sometimes a hero even contributes to the failure of a mission or battle.

I think the closest call I have ever created myself was about a year ago. I was on what should have been a cakewalk of a mission. All we had to do was retrieve a stolen list of police officers who worked undercover on a high-profile organized crime case. In our group, we had a light controller who made the entire group of us invisible, and another hero who lent us all hover belts so that we could move through the building in absolute silence.

We knew that the list was somewhere in a four-story office building, so the four of us picked different floors and started silently searching. I maneuvered in and out among what had to be dozens of a mysterious group that called themselves "Malta Operatives." I was hovering down a hallway towards the last office on the floor when all of a sudden, one of the Operatives started pointing right at me and yelling, "There! Metahuman!" The way my assault rifle was hanging over my shoulder had caused it to stick out past the refractive horizon of our light controller's invisibility shell.

Now at this point, you have to realize that I am actually not a metahuman. I'm used to being called various things by enemies such as a hero, "cape" (which is funny, since I do not wear one), and some things that are unprintable here, but I think this is the first time anyone had called me a metahuman. And at the time, it did not occur to me that an invisibly obscured floating normal flesh-and-blood person would seem as if he were a metahuman to these people. So naturally, I spun around to find out what type of metahuman the Operative was yelling at, completely obvlivious that it was, in fact, me.

To add insult to injury, when I spun around, a pin on one of my web grenades caught on the hoverbelt I was wearing, and before I knew it, I was smack in the middle of a congregation of enemy Operatives, completely covered in strands of sticky glue and unable to move. I was suddenly enveloped in a bright blue light and passed out due to extreme weakness, and the next thing I remember, I woke up in a hospital with a young pretty nurse still pulling globs of goo off of me with a pair of forceps.

As if that weren't embarrassing enough, I looked around and saw the other three members of my team in the next three beds over. When the Operatives were alerted to my presence, they locked down the building, including the stairwells and elevators, and started searching floor-by-floor with infrared goggles. Since we were split up across floors, my team members were sitting ducks, and the only reason we're still alive now is because of the city's medical transporatation grid.

It ended up that the list was sold on the black market, and eight undercover officers had to leave the force and go into a protection program because of my blundering mistake. The ruined lives of those eight officers and their families still haunt me to this day, and this mission's failure is why today, I treat every single mission, no matter how easy it may look, as if it is the most important mission in the world.

Sometimes failure isn't limited to a hero's mistake, and such failure is quite possibly the most frustrating part of being a hero. I was on a special task force last week assembled by none other than Positron himself. It was a dream team of heroes, including such renowned names as Exskotia, Lily the Blade, Rainbow Aradia, Sycorax, U-232, Tyger Paw, and the Princess Bratt. After about five minutes, we managed to iron out the confusion over calling U-232 by the letter "U" over the comm channel (seven heroes responding to what they thought was someone shouting "Hey you!"), and I thought we were ready to kick some serious butt.

For several long hours, we battled all manner of enemies. We especially had a tough time with some Vahzilok, considering my ealier experience with them. Still, we persevered and were on our way to rescue some FEMA workers from Rollister, a powerful Circle of Thorns mage, when as far as we could tell, the entire universe "blipped." We still don't know exactly what happened. Some have theorized that it was due to some unexplained side effect of portal use. Some even believe that it was ripple effects from a great battle between the lost Omega Team and the Rikti on their homeworld. Whatever caused it, the entire city was thrown into confusion for several minutes during our battle with Rollister's minions, and it was enough time for Rollister to escape. The comm channels were dead silent and several members of the team lost contact with each other for around half an hour. When things returned to normal, we contacted Positron to find out what he wanted to do. He said that in the confusion, we needed to stand down and wait until another day to fight Rollister.

I cannot help but feel that it was a waste of a fantastic team's talents and hard work, but Positron is known for his insight and intelligence, so we split apart in the hopes that we may some day, on this team or another, be able to complete the mission we were assigned.

So if the hero's life looks like nothing but glamour and glory, I hope you realize that while it can be personally rewarding, it can also sometimes be extremely frustrating. At the end of the day, when all is said and done, the bodies being danced on just may be your own. I am very glad for Paragon City that we have heroes that fight on and manage to find reward even in the midst of failure.

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

Remember the Real Heroes

2005-05-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

You know, there is little doubt that Paragon City is filled with lots of heroes. It takes a special breed to go out and fight for what is right, especially against the superpowered legions of evil that plague the city.

This Memorial Day, however, I want you to remember an even more special breed out there: the men and women who have no super powers yet still swear an oath to fight evil. These men and women are the men and women of the armed forces. They cannot shrug off bullets as if they are raindrops. They cannot pick up trucks and throw them casually at enemies who would do them harm. They cannot spin webs in opponents' minds by mere thought. They cannot shoot searing flames from their fingertips. Yet we depend on these men and women not just in Paragon City, but around the world, to keep us safe.

I also want you to remember the men and women who are my personal heroes, the paragons of courage in the days before heroes were common on the streets. These men and women refused to shirk the task of defending a country, a people, and a way of life, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds during wars the scale of which this generation has never seen. Many of these men and women even made the ultimate sacrifice, giving their very lives to protect the many more back at home. This is a debt that we can never repay except by keeping you in our most sacred thoughts and bestowing upon your memory our highest honors.

Every once in a while, especially on days such as Memorial Day, I get stopped by various citizens and thanked for my own service. Yet still, I am humbled by the courage and sacrifice made by men and women much greater than myself. To those men and women, especially the men and women who continue to defend our freedom and our homeland today, I salute you. Keep up the great work, and know that we all feel a gratitude so immense that mere words could never express it enough. Sometimes in a country that seems to have gone completely mad, your bravery is a beacon of hope and never fails to make me stand tall and proud to say that I am an American.

To those readers who have friends or relatives who have made this commitment in the past or the present, please take a moment to talk to them and convey your gratitude. Also, try not to confine these sentiments to a mere day or two each year; I assure you that their commitment was significantly longer. And while you are thanking them, please convey my appreciation as well. Even though I may not know your friend or relative personally, I do wish for them to know that the complete strangers whose lives they are fighting for are deeply thankful for their efforts.

Toño Vasquez

A Distant Deadly Threat

2005-05-15T09:00:00.000-04:00

Wow, I certainly did not have much time to relax after last Sunday. Before dawn on Monday, I received a call from a contact I have at the government authorized extradimensional transportation company where Emperyl and I went just the day before. My first thought was that they found out what we did and that we were about to be in trouble up to our knees.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that my contact was actually calling to report a scoop on another alien attack coming from the very dimension we had just visited. Obviously, after the Rikti War, any prospect of an alien attack is unraveling, so I had to investigate.

Unfortunately, although I was ready to answer the call to action, I was ill-prepared to take on this mission. I called up King Skippus, who you may remember from my column a few weeks ago, and I outfitted him with an AV relay bug so that I could monitor the situation. Calin Blackrose, Miss Debutante, Nuadu, Kritikal Mass, The Fearless Feline; they all answered the call immediately. It was such a desperate situation, I even recruited some mercenaries that I normally try to avoid because of the nature of their personality, which tends to be somewhat--how shall I say it?--volatile. Still the team needed the help, so after some long negotiations, The Toxic Roach and Psycho Punk went along as well.

And so Team Heisenberg was formed, named both because of the principles used that enable extradimensional travel and because of the uncertain nature of what they might encounter.

What they did encounter was astounding. It seems that Crey has been testing dimensional travel and had inadvertently unleashed all sorts of trouble. What kind of trouble? The kind that makes Paragon City's toughest street thugs look like jaywalkers. The kind that could have multiplied the Rikti War many times over, devastating what is left of Paragon City and spreading throughout the world. The company (which I am not allowed to name here) that provides extradimensional transportation services for the government only discovered this when they received reports that scientists went missing, scientists of whom they had no account.

During the course of investigation into this mystery, Team Heisenberg discovered that Crey's secret experiments had gotten out of hand, enabling highly dangerous creatures from another dimension to travel back through their portals. These creatures had the goal of attacking Earth, and after the Rikti War, there might have been little to stop them from completely destroying humanity.

Team Heisenberg, with a mere eight people, were miraculously able to stop this invasion by shutting down the rogue Crey portals. However, their efforts did not come without a cost. During one of the missions, The Fearless Feline fell through one of Crey's experimental portals and was lost to an unknown dimension. In the remote dimension (dubbed "The Shadow Shard" by scientists investigating the place), Kritikal Mass was severely injured when the new medical teleportation grid there failed. Psycho Punk got a call from one of his "employers" and had to leave the Shard. The Toxic Roach's arm was impaled on a spike hurled by one of the strange creatures and it had to be amputated. Even King Skippus suffered from a mental "blackening," as he put it, caused by one of the creatures, and has yet to regain some of his powers. The medical teleportation grid in Paragon City also worked overtime in the final battles. The only member of Team Heisenberg that made it through the entire ordeal without suffering major injuries was Miss Debutante, a remarkable woman who somehow managed to dispatch the creatures with a poise and grace that was unbelievable. I was initally worried that her reputation as socialite would make her soft in battle, but she clearly has skills that earn her a high place in society and among the city's most respected heroes.

After two days of intense investigation and raging battles, Team Heisenberg was able to effectively destroy Crey's extradimensional travel program and stop a second otherworldly invasion. One very bright spot in this story is that The Toxic Roach called me yesterday. He discovered that one of his powers appears to be regeneration, and his arm has started to grow back. He said that faced with the prospect of the entire Earth being destroyed, he now realizes the importance of the work that heroes do. He said that he will now work with other heroes and be more conscientious about the paid mercenary work he undertakes. I think that before long, he will have the reputation of being one of Paragon City's finest heroes.

As for Team Heisenberg, they said that they would probably keep in contact with each other, perhaps even working on more missions as a team. This is very promising to the city, which can certainly use powerful heroes of this caliber working together.

Updates: I have received some very recent updates since originally writing this article. Due to the pressing deadline, I have included them here instead of rewriting entire sections of this column.

First, the great news. Scientists tracked down The Fearless Feline to a previously unknown dimension and have verified that she has been lonely, but is otherwise unharmed. They assure me that she will be fighting crime again in Paragon City very soon.

Now, the bad news. Late yesterday afternoon, Crey finally responded to calls about their involvement in this debacle. They claim that the parties involved in the illegal extradimensional travel were actually employees of a parallel dimension's Crey, in which the company does not have the responsible and ethical standards of Crey here in Paragon City. Crey also claims that the equipment that was destroyed by Team Heisenberg was not dimensional gateway equipment, but was in fact equipment used in research of a cure for AIDS. Lawyers representing the company have filed a lawsuit against the members of Team Heisenberg seeking monetary damages. I still have to wonder, though: If the Crey of this dimension were not engaged in extradimensional travel research, how did these creatures end up in our dimension instead of the parallel dimension?

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

A Needed Release

2005-05-08T09:00:00.000-04:00

After last week's column, I decided that I needed a release, a little R and R to go with the daily fight against evil. Even Batman gets to be the millionaire playboy sometimes, and he's only a comic book character!

It's funny, I've been in Paragon City since just after the Rikti War, and it just occurred to me this week that the only places with which I am familiar are the darkest, grungiest corners of the city. I can navigate the sewer system blindfolded and traverse the gnarled forest maze of Perez Park with ease, but I don't know where to get great authentic Mexican food, a good club to go to where I can dance and meet some interesting women, or the best place to watch a beautiful sunset. So this weekend, I set out on a simple mission: to forget about crimefighting and to find some fun. If I ran across some heroes in the process, then all the better.

So with an assignment as important as this one, I sought out the only contact I could think of to provide me with valuable clues: Sheryl Castor, the City Life editor of the Paragon Mirror. I told her that I trusted her implicitly and asked her to surprise me with some suggestions. She was very willing to help--a little scarily eager, actually--and by the end of the day, I had two full typewritten pages in my office mailbox from her, complete with directions, suggestions on what to wear, and the name of a hairstylist. (Did I mention scarily eager?)

So Friday afternoon, I headed out, first to pick up some new threads and get a haircut, then I was off to Atlas Park to catch Elena, the new show at the Morway. I thought it was very interesting, especially since I've never been into the whole fine arts scene, but I'll defer the reviews to our very capable editors at The Mirror. I had excellent seats, for which I am grateful to the management. Sometimes being in the press does have its perks!

Afterwards, I stopped by the Paragon Dance Party. I had heard of the place from some friends of mine that are heroes. At first, the place did not impress me very much. It was filled with junk and the requisite laser lights and blasting music. There were a lot of people inside. Most of them were heroes, because the club can be rather dangerous to get to, and if one gets a bit too tipsy and steps outside the wrong door, it can get very dangrous very quickly. Many of the heroes were hovering and flying about, so it really did not seem very crowded. The club had even hired a couple of waitresses who could hover to serve drinks to some heroes who were resting in the rafters of the place. At midnight, someone proposed a costume contest. It sounded like fun, but I didn't enter because I was wearing club clothes, and my normal "costume" is military fatigues. Besides, even if I were wearing a costume, I was having too much fun with my dance parter to be distracted, so we ignored the rest of the partiers and concentrated on each other, which was nice. I ended up getting a little too tipsy, but fortunately I didn't have to worry about the wrong door. I called a couple of taxibots to help me and my newfound date for the evening reach our respective destinations, and then I called it a night.

Saturday morning, I looked up the number of my dance partner the night before, and I realized that I had been tricked--it was the home phone number of Emperyl, my shapeshifter friend who I mentioned in my column a couple of weeks ago. I thought she seemed familiar somehow, but I didn't recognize her with red hair and about half a foot taller than she usually is. I called and asked her why she did not say anything. She said that it was the first time in a long time that she had seen me having fun. I guess she was right about that, and I did have a lot of fun, so I asked her if she was available to catch a movie. She said yes, so that afternoon we went to the Atlas CinemaPlex. Afterwards, she suggested that we then go to a new club that she heard about from one of her friends.

The club is called Zero G, a new place opened up for out-of-this-world explorers. I cannot describe exactly where it is, because only heroes with very high security level clearance can get there. Emperyl pulled some strings to get us clearance to the area. Okay, maybe technically we were not supposed to be there, but when you hang out with a shapeshifter, getting clearance from "approved personnel" does not present much of a problem, if you know what I mean. I can say that it is one of the coolest places that I have ever been in my life. The proprietor is a very powerful controller who counteracts gravity throughout most of the main areas of the club (but thankfully not the bathrooms!). It is entertaining for the guests, and he uses the evening crowd to hone his levitation skills. The club is a large sphere with a well-stocked bar that runs like the equator around the inside. The dance floor is a large ball hovering inside the middle of the place, and you can get back and forth between it and the tables on the outer shell by either a good running jump or by grabbing one of several poles that run in between. I managed to get a not-so-authorized picture from one of the exterior balconies. I hope that some day, this place is safe enough to be opened up to the public so that you can experience it for yourself!

And that brings us to this morning, Sunday. I do not know exactly what I will do today, but I am about to turn in this column, and I can assure you that the rest of the day will involve yet more resting and relaxing. I'm thinking of calling up Emperyl again to see if she's interested in a late lunch and to help me find that beautiful sunset.

So if this is not the most exciting edition of the Hero Beat, it is because sometimes, the life of a hero consists only of a weekend of vegetating and recharging the batteries. In that respect, heroes and normal people are a lot alike. So tomorrow, if you are attacked by Skulls or Hellions, I will be there to help. For today, though, I will relay your message to the Weekend Warriors, who are more than capable.

And by the way, try La Fiesta de los Toros at the corner of Center and Sutherland streets, the one with the big sign with the bull on it. You were right, Sheryl, it's almost like being back home!

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

The Rise of a New Evil

2005-05-01T09:00:00.000-04:00

First of all, a brief update: The Paragon City Council has pushed back their vote on strengthening hero registration for another month. That's great news, and I like to think that it is because many people have written to the City Council expressing concerns echoed in my last column. At any rate, whatever the reason, I am still a little nervous. The City Council merely pushed back acting, not killed the idea altogether. Still, it is a step in the right direction, and I hope that my readers continue to contact the members at City Hall to keep the pressure on.

Speaking of the City Council and its members, I had a chance to talk with Hayley Christian, the representative from Steel Canyon, today. He had some good news and some bad news, both of which have been apparent to the people who live and work in Steel Canyon for some time. The good news is that the presence of the Fifth Column has been extremely curtailed in Paragon City. The bad news is that the presence of a new organization known as the Council has been growing. (Not to be confused with the City Council which, of course, manages the government of Paragon City.)

Personally, I think that the bad news is very bad indeed. The Council seems to be just a retooled version of the Fifth Column without all of the Nazi trappings. This is a lot more dangerous; when the bad guys are wearing swastikas on their shirt sleeves, its pretty easy to tell who they are. The Council manages to keep a somewhat lower profile. Do not be fooled, however; word on the street is that most of the former members of the Fifth Column have now joined the Council, and many of their activities remain the same, including their horrific experimentations and, most importantly, their attempts to supplant our way of life with one of absolute rule at their hands.

The persistence of evil in Paragon City never ceases to amaze me. I'm not talking about the so-called "normal" evil, such as street thugs stealing purses and the like, I mean the way that following battle after battle, it seems that the heroes hardly make a dent in the crime committed by super-powered villains. A couple of months ago, I was on a task force assigned the difficult mission of defeating Dr. Vahzilok once and for all. It was a very difficult mission. We planned on encountering many enemies, but we had not planned on the incredible regenerative abilities with which Dr. Vahzilok had imbued himself. The final battle was fought for over half an hour in the sewers, and three of Paragon City's finest were forced to make emergency medical evacuations. When all was said and done, I was completely out of ammunition and forced to use the butt of my assault rifle to fend off cadavers from a couple of hand-to-hand combat experts taking on Dr. Vahzilok. We only barely survived thanks to the good grace of our two empaths, one of which avoided evacuation but still ended up at Cygnus Medical Center after the battle.

But it was worth it, right? We saved the day, and the citizens of Paragon City will no longer have to worry about being stalked by horrific reapers to which the adjective "grim" simply does not do justice. Or so we thought.

Earlier this week, I stopped by Cygnus, where we took the remains of Dr. Vahzilok for analysis and study. Dr. Jaren, the chief specialist on the Vahzilok there, told me that some parts of the body that we brought in were old and dead, some parts were new as if freshly grown, and some parts were missing altogether. I asked how that was possible, and he said that it seems that another group of heroes found out that Vahzilok has been working on creating another body for himself. Could it be possible that he has found some way of psychically transferring his consciousness from one husk to another, thereby allowing the world to think him dead while he in fact lives? In studying a few corpses that Statesman brought in while cleaning up the remnants of the Vahzilok in Kings Row, Dr. Jaren discovered some of Dr. Vahzilok's primary DNA sequences in cells less than three days old.

It gets worse, too. Dr. Jaren told me that there were bits and pieces of DNA from many sources contained in the cells of the corpse we brought in. This DNA gives Dr. Vahzilok a high degree of resistance to the powers of heroes he has fought in the past. He asked me if we left any traces of our own DNA at the site of the battle. Traces such as the gash of skin from my leg? Such as the blood seeping from The Catalyst's arm when it partially dissolved in the acid vomit of one of Vahzilok's enbalmed minions? Such as the three teeth that Catharsis lost when she caught one of Vahzilok's haymakers on the chin?

Dr. Jaren strongly warned me that we cannot face Dr. Vahzilok again. In fact, now that the new DNA has been propagated to Vahzilok on the streets, we would do well to avoid this enemy altogether. To face Dr. Vahzilok again would mean certain death to us, and would surely jeopardize the efforts of other heroes who can hopefully take him out one last time.

I guess the reason I am writing about this today is that fighting the forces of evil seems like an uphill, sometimes even losing, battle. The heroes of Paragon City cannot give up and admit final defeat, but every once in a while, it would be nice to have some sort of reassurance that what we are doing matters, to see some sign that our efforts against the forces of evil are doing more than merely balancing a scale of destruction.

Until that sign arrives, I call out for other heroes to seek out Dr. Vahzilok and put an end to his reign of terror forever. I implore that my readers avoid these abominations at all costs. And I hope with all my heart that everyone can find their own source of encouragement in these trying times.

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

The Secret Life

2005-04-24T09:00:00.000-04:00

Wow, what a week it has been here in Paragon City. First, there were the stories about the continued heightened tensions between many of the city's heroes and the Crey security forces, and then the story about the kidnapping of The Blue Eagle's fiance by the Vahzilok and the horrible things that they did to her. My sentiments go out to the Eagle and to Sharon's family, and I know that he appreciates all of the sorrow that readers and the rest of the city have expressed.

That brings me to the subject of secret identities. Several people have mentioned to me over the years how odd it is that so many heroes fight crime under sometimes silly names. Some have actually suggested that it shouldn't be done, that these heroes for some reason or another must have something to hide.

The truth of the matter is that there are a lot of reasons why heroes use a different name when they're fighting crime. Most of the time, it is pretty simple: they are facing powerful enemies, and some degree of anonymity is needed to protect one's family and friends. It is the same reason that many police officers work under cover, a practice that is readily endorsed and easily understood.

Sometimes a secret identity is not really secret at all. I am a good example: The News Man is a nickname I picked up in high school because of my dedication to the school paper and my desire to become a journalist, and it has stuck ever since. I do not hide my real name, however, because it used to be rather difficult to get clearance into press conferences while using an alias.

Sometimes there are other reasons to use an identity other than one's real name. For example, not too long ago, I was working on some missions with a demon girl called the Plasma Imp. Over the comm channel, we just called her Imp, short and simple. It would have been a lot harder if we had to use her actual name because there are a couple of sounds in it that the human voice is incapable of reproducing. It cannot be written because there are no letters for that sound, and in fact, she said that it cannot even be written here in her native language because the script is three-dimensional. And I thought that English was tough to learn when I was a kid!

Now I know that you have probably at some time wondered what some handsome or beautiful hero's real name is, and you are not alone. There have been recent movements in the City Council to try to require all heroes to register with the city, including divulging personal information and secret identities. I think this is a horrible mistake because, as recent events have shown, there is a lot of risk associated with some heroes' identities being publicized, and the city would have a very difficult time guaranteeing the security of the registration information. It is a little known fact that all of the city government's computer systems are provided by Crey Industries, and given the sometimes high-profile political battles fought between Crey and some of the city's reputable heroes, I am very hesitant to trust these heroes' secret identities to these computers. Even if we give Crey the benefit of a doubt and assume that everything the company does is honest and above-board, there have been too many instances of rogue groups within the corporation to trust such sensitive information to them. If we truly want to continue trusting our heroes to protect the city, we should at least trust them to protect their name. I would rather have a city full of anonymous heroes than risk having one more incident such as The Blue Eagle has recently experienced happen again.

If the City Council succeeds in passing their resolution, it would have the affect of either discouraging the good heroes in our city from fighting crime or encouraging heroes to freelance under different identities. As an extreme example, a really good friend of mine is a heroine named Emperyl. She is a shapechanger and has fought crime as about every variation of girl there is. Once, she even snuck into a freakshow hideout as none other than Clamor herself. Anyway, she tells me that if the City Council presses on with this registration effort, she will simply do her best Lynda Carter impersonation for the official files and change into someone else whenever she hits the streets. Although most heroes do not have the luxury of being able to completely change their appearance, they can do almost the same thing by using masks, wigs, and different costumes.

So although I do try to stay out of politics in this column, if you have a few extra minutes in your busy day and appreciate the efforts of Paragon City's finest, please take a moment and contact your local zone's councilmember and tell him or her to oppose the new registration bill being considered.

That's all for this week. Until next time, stay safe, and keep The Blue Eagle in your thoughts in prayers.

Toño "No Name For Today" Vasquez

The Force that Drives

2005-04-17T09:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome back to The Hero Beat. This week, I wanted to scratch the surface of one of the more common questions I get asked: What compels some heroes with extraordinary powers to fight for good causes? The answers to this question run deeply. Rarely are there simple answers to why anyone does the things that they do. Because the subject is far too deep to cover in just one column, I will probably revisit it from time to time.

When I ask this question to heroes, some have what have become stock responses. Revenge to right some wrong, guilt over some past evil, the thrill of battle, a religious calling to fulfill the grand design, and so on. Many heroes, however, have motivations that run much deeper.

Take a moment to think about why you, the reader, are the way that you are. Is there one defining moment in your life that set you on your way to your inevitable destination, or are you a collage of your experiences, slowly evolving every day, molded by everything you feel and learn?

The other day, I was on a mission with a hero named Skippus. He is the reigning monarch of a nation of seven planets in another dimension and has mental powers that surpass most psi heroes that I know. He came to Earth to rescue his daughter, Reyla, from a sorcerer from his home planet of Kore. I certainly understand why he came to Earth, but I asked him why he fights evil here instead of simply seeking his daughter without interfering. He gave me a particularly insightful answer.

"On Kore," he started, "All citizens are taught from the time that they are children that it is every person's responsibility to keep vigil over the peace of our society. We believe that evil cannot survive unless the people in a civilization allow it. As the Koric King, I take this responsibility very seriously and very personally. Many of our people look to us to be role models, to set examples for them to live by. If I do not do my part to fight evil, how can I expect others to?"

A noble answer, but it still sounded suspiciously like one written by a public relations agent to sell King Skippus t-shirts. I had to dig deeper. I told him that here on Earth, he is not serving as an example to his people. They do not know of his battles here, and if he manages to get back to Kore, he could tell them anything they wanted to hear.

"Many people here on Earth live with that philosophy, and it saddens me," he continued. "I have heard some here mention something they call the Golden Rule, about treating people as they want to be treated. This is remarkably similar to what we call the Citizen's Code. A rough translation is, 'Act as a teacher of actions, feel as a teacher of feelings, and live as a teacher of life.' Rarely do Earth's citizens actually abide by their Golden Rule. I may not have much of a chance of changing the planet in the short time I live here on Earth, but if I do not live by the Citizen's Code or your Golden Rule, then I have no chance at all."

But why does he try to change the planet? It is, after all, not his planet.

"Because I am not just a citizen of Kore, of course. I am also a citizen of the spirit that bind us all together. So are you, your readers, my daughter Reyla, the heroes of Paragon City--everyone. The Citizen's Code is not just to teach our citizens, the Heart of Kore, it is to teach everyone we meet."

I suppose that his explanation can be neatly filed under M for Making the world a better place, but it still strikes me as powerful.

On a slightly different note, I dropped by the Arcane Arts store on Waters Street in Atlas Park to talk to The Amazing Archos, the owner of the store. Archos is a renowned stage performer with real mentalist powers. He has wowed audiences worldwide with his amazing displays of psychic skill, but other than a street thug or two who has tried to rob his store, he has never taken to battling the villains that plague Paragon City. I wanted to ask him why, so that maybe I could get some insight into what makes a would-be hero not take up the cause of fighting for good.

When I asked him why he did not go on missions and task forces like other heroes, he answered, "First of all, I have a store to run. Crime fighting is noble, but it can't support my wife and kids. Second, speaking of Sharon and kids, I feel like risking my life daily like a lot of the other heroes do wouldn't be fair to them. My most important job is husband and father. Third, sure there's a lot of crime around here, but the Freedom Phalanx and other heroes pretty much keep in it check. If big stuff comes up, they can always hire the Hero Corps to work on it. They may be expensive, but they've always gotten the job done.

I pressed on with the hard question: Does he feel guilty at all about others putting their lives on the line while he performs tricks at the Paragon Metropolitan Center?

"Look, I know it may sound kind of harsh, and it's not that I don't care at all. I have a lot of respect for heroes. But a lot of folks just assume that people with powers should fight crime. I wish they would all ask themselves what they would do if suddenly they woke up with powers. Would they risk dying every day? Maybe some would, but not that many, I think. Almost every day I see people on the street getting robbed by some two-bit street hoodlums. How many risk their lives to fight back for what's right? Most just stand there cowering in fear. The ones that run usually don't even run that far. They just get out of the way and wait for a hero to step in and do the dirty work. And how many of their fellow Paragonians help them? Hell, they just throw up their hands and run away! Like I said, I've got a wife and three kids to take care of and they need me, I can't do the sort of stuff that other heroes do."

He does have a point. I actually know several people with powers who live average, normal lives. They are our accountants, engineers, chefs, and our janitors. They are not bad people, they just have different priorities from the heroes you see on the front page and the nightly news. And let us not forget that some people who have powers use them selfishly for personal gain, usually at the expense of others. Some even become supervillains who terrorize the city.

There truly are all types of forces that drive people with super powers to do what they do, whether it is tearing at a warwolf's mind until it falls in submission, entertaining an audience by making a soccer mom cluck like a chicken, or cleaning the floors of the new Galaxy Arena.

Toño "News Man" Vasquez

A Day in the Life

2005-04-10T09:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome, reader, to my new column, The Hero Beat. I truly enjoy working here at The Paragon Mirror, and look forward to bringing you news and stories about the efforts of the great heroes of Paragon City. I would like to start the column by introducing you to myself.

My name is Antonio Vazquez, but all my friends just call me Toño. I studied journalism in college for a while before I decided that I had to do more than just report on the news. For over eighteen years, I have studied and fought in various wars and conflicts. In Paragon City, I continue to take an active part in battles still being fought after the Rikti invasion, and I hope that this unique perspective helps bring a different insight into the life and times of being a hero.

I must warn you up front that I am not a hero worshipper. Sure, I respect their bravery and admire the service they provide to the city, but I am also not afraid of bringing you the real story of some of the things that go on behind the scenes. Sometimes it may even get downright ugly, but I want to be the kind of journalist that brings you the truth, no matter what it may be.

So with that said, I would like to tell you about a mission I was on just yesterday. I was talking to a contact of mine on the streets who told me about a clockwork plot in a warehouse in Galaxy City, so I hit the hero comm to see if I could round up a few capes to go with me and investigate. I managed to round up a good crew of five heroes that were not on active missions, and we set off. Now I suppose that you have probably already read about Mecha's plot to build up a force of Clocks and take over that section of the city and a team of heroes that foiled it, but I can tell you firsthand that this was no ordinary mission.

First of all, we had a couple of Kheldians in the group. Although I have met a few, I have never actually been on a mission with one before. It's no secret that they have acquired the nickname "squishies," and I have to admit that I use it myself. But in the heat of battle, they are as hardened as most veterans I have seen. So if any squishies are reading this, welcome to Earth, and I hope that together, our heroes and the Kheldians can make this a peaceful place once again.

Next, I will answer a one of my favorite questions that people ask me about heroes with a story from yesterday's mission. Most of the time, people want to know the usual information, such as, "What is it like to fly?" "How many bad guys have you put away?" and the like. These are not my favorite questions, though.

My favorite questions are the ones that show that although most heroes have extraordinary abilities, they are for the most part as human as the rest of us. They have hopes and dreams, strenghths and flaws, fear and courage. One of these questions is, "So what kinds of stuff happens on these missions that heroes probably don't want us to know about? Anything embarrassing?"

Of course, sometimes really stupid stuff happens. On the Clockwork mission that we took care of yesterday, one of my team was a cat girl named Mercat. We had just dispatched a group of assembler knights and their minions, and she starts coughing. Not a clear-her-throat kind of cough, but a hacking-up-her-guts kind. I swear, for a minute, I thought she was going to spit out a furball. I figured that in the battle, maybe a bunch of dust had been stirred up, but the warehouse was pretty clean. After a minute, she finally stops. Everyone awkwardly asked if she was okay, and she made a kind of hissing noise and spit out a piece of metal. It seems that when she sliced through the breastplate of the last sprocket, she bit it out of spite. Apparently she was so frustrated that she forgot that she wasn't fighting creatures of flesh and blood and got a mouthful of copper and aluminum instead. She spit most of it out but a small piece lodged in her throat, thus causing the fit.

Star of Luminae, one of our Kheldians, chuckled and asked her why she would bite a robot. Mercat frustratedly replied to her in a hoarse voice, "Why do you think? Because I was hungry!"

For the rest of the mission, we could not help but tease her now and then. Afterwards, we all pitched in to buy her dinner before calling it a night. I think the steak she put away more than made up for her slightly injured pride because after the meal, she proclaimed that she had brought dessert--and dumped two handfuls of nuts and bolts right in the center of the table!

So that's it for this week's column. Hopefully you will continue to read and enjoy it, because as long as there are heroes to write about, I will keep covering the Hero Beat. Until next time,

Toño "News Man" Vasquez