Rebecca had approved of Stevan's performance, but four days later, other interested parties were reviewing the battle and forming their own opinions.
The Count sat hunched over the table, his fingers steepled and his expression unreadable behind the small, dark-tinted lenses of his glasses. The room was quite large, but most of it was veiled in darkness. The only light was from the table. Projected in the air over the table was a holographic recording of the fight between the Chimeras and the Backdraft's Blackhearts Team. In the projection, the Chimeras' GunSniper fired at the two black Command Wolves and missed. The droid-piloted Zoids abruptly halted their charge at the Chimeras' Command Wolf and turned to engage the GunSniper.
The Count touched a control on the side of the table and the projection froze. "Explain."
The man sitting across from the Count at the holo-table shifted uncomfortably. He was dressed in a lab coat, and his thinning, prematurely gray hair and lined face spoke of many long, tiring hours spent in pursuit of his work. "The new droid processors are a significant step up from our older versions, like what we used in the Zabats. But the idea has limitations we haven't overcome yet."
"Get to the point, Doctor," the Count said quietly.
"Each Zoid has a will of its own. A spirit, some call it. The strength of that will varies depending on the individual Zoid, but it's always there. Even if the Zoid is not directly rebelling against its pilot – whether it's a human being or a computer processor – its will still has an enormous influence on the way it performs."
"For example," the man went on, "the Command Wolf's basic nature conditions it to act as part of a team. So it just never occurred to the droid-controlled Wolves to split up and engage the two opponents separately. At first they concentrated on the enemy Command Wolf because it was the most immediate threat. When the GunSniper interfered, they switched targets – but in both cases, they attacked together. The situation was made worse by the fact that we developed these processors from the ones used in Sleeper Zoids during the Helic-Guylos war. Sleepers always acted as part of a large group because the droid units weren't smart enough to succeed in combat otherwise, and because the Zoids used as Sleepers were always small and lightly armed."
The Count regarded the scientist, his dark lenses two steaming, black pools. "The units we're using are supposed to be improved. Why didn't the droid processors order the Zoids to deviate from their natural behavior?"
"The processors' main purpose is to target and fire the Zoids' weapons. They don't have complete control. We tried giving them greater control early on in the system's development, but the results have been…very poor. The Zoids often refuse to respond to the computers' input at all. We haven't yet determined the cause."
"Go on," the Count said.
"So we scaled back the computers' functions to basic gunnery and piloting assistance, as with the models we used for the droid Zabats. But they always operated under the orders of a human commander."
There was a heavy pause. "So you are telling me that we are back to square one? That we," and here the Doctor could tell the Count meant "you," "…have made no progress?"
The lab-coated man gulped visibly. "N-No," he stammered. "The new units are an improvement in terms of accuracy and speed. But the idea has inherent limitations. The time when a droid-piloted Zoid can hold its own against a Zoid with a really skilled human at the controls is still far off."
The Count nodded and turned his head away from the holo table and the scientist, staring off into the blackness that filled the rest of the room. "I see." He was silent again for half a minute, and the Doctor started to sweat. "You've told me all I need to know. Carry on with the project."
"Yes, sir," the researcher answered. He exited the room as quickly as he could without making his nervousness obvious. The door slid closed behind him, and the Count turned off the holotable. The frozen image of the black Command Wolves disappeared.
--------
Though the frightened scientist didn't know it, he had reported to a much larger audience than just the Count. The entire conversation had been transmitted to a room thousands of kilometers away. The room was dominated by an enourmous, U-shaped carved-wood table, with thirty seats along its outer edge. From the cavernous hall's ceiling hung a black banner emblazoned with the image of a red dragon coiled around a sword against a red diamond-shaped field.
The emblem of the Guylos Empire.
Most of the thirty places were filled. The ones that were not were filled with holoprojections, so that those individuals who could not be physically present at the meeting could participate. Each man or woman wore the crest of a Guylos noble family.
Here, on Zi's so-called "dark continent," Nyx, the Guylos Council of Nobles, leaders of the Imperial remneant, met to plan how they would shape the futures of those who knew nothing of their existence.
The holoprojection of the room where the Count had discussed the droid processors disappeared from where it had been positioned in the open end of the table, beneath the banner. A smaller image of the Count himself blinked into existence over his place at the table.
"You have all heard the report on the project," began an older, gray-haired man in the middle of the table. "Council Members: what say you?"
"I say this has gone on long enough!" a younger man with long, black hair shouted from the far right end of the table. "How much more of our resources must we waste on this failed Backdraft experiment?"
"I agree," said an older woman, in a calmer tone. "We gave Count Steinhoff," she said, nodding in the direction of the projection of the Count, "free rein over the project because he assured us that his brainchild, the Backdraft Group, could be forged into a weapon we could use to overthrow the Zoid Battle Commission. That was twelve years ago." She let the last three words fall heavily. "Two years ago, he told us that his efforts had come to fruition: his Zoid and pilot would win the Royal Cup and destroy all opposition. With the ZBC in chaos, we would be able to take back our rightful control of the Central Continent with ease. But instead…"
The younger man jumped in again. "But instead, we almost lost the entire organization. Steinhoff's Zoid was defeated by the Blitz Team and their Liger Zero, who his operatives had tried and failed to eliminate over and over again. The Royal Cup operation was a disaster, and in the ZBC offensive that followed the Backdraft Group lost almost half its strength." The man struck the table with the side of his hand as though he could slice through the polished wood.
The Count surpassed a rumble of irritation. "Baron Romm and Duchess Nowotny are correct," he said, cutting off Romm's tirade. The man was a firebrand, young, short-tempered and impetuous. "The Backdraft Group did suffer heavily in the failed Royal Cup plan and its aftermath. But it was only wounded. Wounded gravely, albeit, but not mortally. The rebuilding is almost complete. We have filled our ranks with new warriors. And the new droid processors will be a powerful asset." He threw a hard stare at the projections of the other council members. "The battle you saw was only the first real-world test of the new units. The conditions were not optimal, and neither were the results."
"How so?" Duchess Nowotny asked.
"We expected both of the teams in the battle we took over to fight. We would then have used more droid units," he explained. "But one team never left their transport. Using the entire force of droid units available against only two opponent Zoids would hardly have been a productive test." Romm heaved an exasperated sigh, which Count Steinhoff ignored. "So we used only two units," he went on, angrily staring at Romm behind his dark glasses. "The conditions of the test were not ideal, but.."
"If your subordinates are too stupid to test the units properly…" Romm began.
"Enough."
Steinhoff turned to look at the speaker, the gray-haired man.
The gray-haired man was Duke Horvath, the Chairman of the Order Council. Steinhoff didn't trust the man any farther away than he could shoot him. He was always pretending to be the stern elder statesman, above Council bickerings, but Steinhoff didn't buy that act for a second.
"The result of that test is not the issue here," Horvath said. The Count's eyes narrowed behind his dark glasses. "The issue is not the battle, but the choice of opponents."
"Please explain, Duke," Duchess Nowotny said.
Horvath gazed at Steinhoff. "One of the teams involved in the battle the Backdraft interrupted for the test contained one of this Order's operatives. In fact," here he paused. No doubt for dramatic emphasis, Steinhoff thought. "…a member of this very Council."
There was a rumble of low murmuring from the council. Count Steinhoff's mind raced. All the attention given to the battle by the Backdraft had been analysis of the droid Zoid processors. Steinhoff had no idea what Horvath was talking about, and that annoyed him more than anything said in the Council meeting so far.
Duke Horvath allowed the commotion to continue for a moment, then went on. "Isn't that correct, Lady?" he said, addressing a young woman who appeared via holoprojection several seats down with long brown hair. She wore no family crest; her robes were marked only with the Guylos Empire emblem, with one important difference: the dragon wore a gold crown.
"It is, Duke," she answered.
The Count bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself from spitting out a curse. Why did the girl waste her time with Zoid battles anyway, Prozen take her? The last Steinhoff had heard, she was playing around in the lower ranks in one on one battles. He didn't know she was running her own team, and had certainly never considered the possibility that his subordinates might interrupt one of her battles.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "All of our Order's operatives currently on the Central Continent have ID codes they can transmit to avoid any trouble with Backdraft forces. The unit that took over the battle between the Chimeras and Spirit Cats Teams received no such code." More mutterings and murmurings.
"That," said Horvath, speaking louder than was really necessary to be heard over the muted uproar, "is immaterial. All Backdraft commanders are supposed to have lists of people who are off-limits to their attacks. The Backdraft should never have interfered with that battle."
So much for your standoffish objectivity, you old fool, Steinhoff thought. "The Princess was not directly attacked and no harm came to her. Her transport was not even damaged."
"That is beside the point," Horvath intoned. "This incident is part of a larger question: has the Backdraft Group ceased to become an effective means to our ends?"
"The answer to that question," Romm said, "is obvious to anyone with half a brain. The Backdraft Group was defeated at the moment that should have been its greatest triumph, it is accomplishing nothing, and now its operatives are failing to even follow proper procedures."
"I must say I am leaning toward Count Romm's assessment as well," said Baron Galland, a nondescript individual at the other end of the table. "Count Steinhoff assured us that the Backdraft Group could be used to bring down the ZBC, which he said was necessary as preperation for our reclaiming the former Imperial territory on the Central Continent. That has not happened."
"And all Steinhoff tells us is that he needs more time, more rescourses. I say that the Backdraft Group was a poor idea that has outlived any usefulness it ever had," Romm said. "Our armies are more than strong enough to take back what is rightfully ours. Why must we resort to these subterfuges?"
"And I say…" The Lady spoke in a clear, ringing voice, and all eyes turned to her face on the holoprojection. "…that this so-called reclamation of our old territory is also a flawed idea. No matter the rightness of our claim to that part of the continent, we will only be viewed as invaders and conquerors by the continent's people."
Horvath looked at her and Romm balefully. "That is neither here nor there. The question is wether the Backdraft is still an effective tool for our ends under Count Steinhoff's leadership."
Steinhoff spoke before anyone else could start pontificating. "I believe I can answer that question."
"How is that, Count?" Horvath asked.
"Some of you doubt the effectiveness of the Backdraft Group." He smiled. "I am prepared to show you all how strong Backdraft is."