Mandate
From Axalon RPG
Contents |
Basic Info
- Created by: Agent Rasp, Tarantulas
- Aliases: Manners, Son
- Faction: Predacon
- Subgroup: Diversified Technical Concepts/Predacon Naval Fleet
- Primary Function: Stealth Operative
- Secondary Function: Close Quarters Combatant
- Type: Beast Warrior (later Transmetal)
- Beast Mode: Praying Mantis
- Third Mode: Rocket Sled
- Gender: Male
- Size: Medium (7ft as a beast warrior, 9ft as a Transmetal)
- Theme Song(s): Debussy - Sunken Cathedral, Khachaturyan - Sabre Dance
Statistics
- Strength: 8
- Stamina: 6
- Speed: 10
- Skill: 10
- Aim: 2
- Firepower: 2
- Intelligence: 10
- Discipline: 10
- Luck: 5
Quotes
"Power is revealed, not by striking hard or often, but by striking true."
"Fail, and be punished. Cross me, and you will fail."
"Perish all thought of such an action until I so command."
"Such treachery from my beloved crew is bad enough- but to have botched it so entirely? Inexcusable."
"Still, it is a poor carpenter indeed who blames his tools."
Appearance
Beast Mode
A praying mantis. This lightweight insect resembles a centaur in basic shape, standing on four long, thin legs, its abdomen and tail sitting horizontal with the thorax, head and foreclaws held upright. The head is small and triangular, with bulbous yellow eyes and thin, whippy antennae. The foreclaws are triple-jointed arm-like appendages ending in knife-like barbed claws used to snatch prey with alarming speed. The claws are held forward, claws down, in a mannerism not unlike prayer.
In a later Transmetal upgrade, Mandate was a metallic emerald hue, with joints of dark gold and silver, and amethyst compound eyes.
Third Mode
The so-called rocket sled. The mantis 'kneels', and the abomden splits and folds over, jet-boosters extending from the sides. Wings fan up into railguards, while the head tucks down and back, approximating handlebars. He has increased maneuverability in flight, over and above his beast mode, and a very respectable overland speed; he is not the best flightcraft, not being designed to break the sound barrier or leave the atmosphere, but he can rise to several hundred storeys above ground and outpace most terrestrial craft. It is rumoured that Mandate's sleek, streamlined third mode must be a 'totally sweet ride'. However, as Mandate rarely deigns to carry passengers in any fit state to enjoy the ride, this is unverified.
Robot Mode
A broad-shouldered bot, sparely built, with long limbs and streamlined, nearly seamless outer armour. His shell is pale, conservative green, laced with burnished gold and dark lilac accents; most of the time, at least. One of the added features of his latest paint-job was a chameleonic function that allows him to dim and darken colours as may suit the ever-changing demands of fashion or stealth.
His shoulders are deceptively bulky, with plates formed by the beak and rainbow-tinted compound eyes of his mantis beast mode. Tapering ridges along his shins and forearms are sharply edged with barbed notches at intervals. The same goes for a pair of sweeping antennae that flow back from his shoulders, over his beast mode’s translucent wings, forming something like a small cape. Insect legs are tucked along the back of his calves, ready to serve as javelins when needed. Two curving swords, formed by his beast mode claws, hang from his hip.
Everything about Mandate, his smooth hands and feet, even his angular elbows and knees, makes a clean line, sleek and fast. His face is by no means ugly, but lacks the humanity to be exactly beautiful- its construction is technically handsome, but cold and remote, like a mannequin. His helm is round at the top, with face-guards curling out on either side of his jaw.
Mandate’s voice is a somber tenor. It is the voice of a leader- it can command authority and respect, but it can soothe and assuage as well. Something about Mandate’s tone makes him sound reasoned and patient. His emotions may show outwardly elsewhere, such as in his body language, but regardless, Mandate will always at least *sound* calm.
Pictures
Maaaybe. Ask nicely.
Skills
Non-Combat
- Stealth
- Art: Classical Poetry, Calligraphy, Painting
- Eastern Philosophy
- Military History
- Politics
- Zen Meditation, Tai Chi, Yoga
- Flight: Assisted
Combat
- Melee Weapons: Swords, Staves, Spears, Flails, Darts
- Martial Arts: Metallikato, Circuit-su
Traits/Abilities
- Blur- Mandate is extraordinarily fleet of foot, able to overmatch a cheetah from his first leaping step onwards. He can make hairpin turns with a negligible loss of speed, kick off walls and ceilings, perform exquisite backflips, somersaults, cartwheels and pirouettes, and stop on a dime. In flight he is much, much faster, but the loss of maneuverability renders it unusable in combat, even though his beast mode is otherwise quite formidable. This ability only operates in short bursts. If Mandate blurs more than twenty seconds out of a minute, his joints begin to overheat.
- Glitch: The Hand Is Quicker Than The Eye- Mandate’s neural net, while considered to be an extremely savvy piece of digital equipment by software connoisseurs, does suffer one significant flaw. Although Mandate is obviously a close-combat fighter by design, the deficit in his range capability does seem like a fair-sized oversight. The problem is not accuracy, and in point of fact, Mandate’s accuracy is quite good. That is, assuming his target does not move. Mandate’s reflexes are attuned to a melee, not a firefight, and the fact is he tends to overthink and second-guess himself when it comes to blasters and the like. His tendency is to fire well in advance of an opponent, at the point in space where they will be soon, but nevertheless, are not yet. This is a programming glitch, the source of which has proved not readily identifiable, and hence, has never been corrected. But Mandate doesn’t really need a gun anyway, so that’s alright.
- (Transmetal) Dragon Cloak- A built-in device, courtesy of Mandate's parent company of DTC, which allows Mandate to become wholly invisible to the majority of scanners, be they visual, infrared, ultraviolet, spark signature, on the market today- although DTC's strongest competitors at New Arms have been working for years on a scanner to be used exclusively to 'slay the dragon'. Regardless, the cloak itself is a heavy drain on fuel, and is best used only briefly. Deep in enemy territory, it is no substitute for proper stealth training. Its downfalls are similar those of Blur, as it runs on the same power reserves- although these were buffed significantly in Mandate's new Transmetal body.
Armament
- Twin Katana- These are long, thin, slightly curved swords with extremely sharp blades, serrated on back of the curve, formed by the beast mode foreclaws and folding into sheaths at the small of Mandate’s back in robot mode. The hilts are metallic green, and one has a red-and-white ribbon tied around the pommel. They are theoretically capable of cutting through any material, but not without effort. Bots of sufficiently dense material (i.e. high Stamina) may bring their deadly arcs to a standstill, but Mandate’s speed and confusing tactics can more than make up for this as he finds the inevitable weak point. Never the strongest fencer, Mandate prefers to use his speed and flexibility to dodge an opponent, advance quickly and strike accurately, then fall back before they can counterattack. One of his favoured tactics is hurling one sword through the air, then running around his foe (Mandate is actually fast enough to outpace the thrown sword) to flank them. The thrown sword is not hard to dodge if you see it coming. Mandate himself, on the other hand...
- Serrated Armour- Sharp edges are present throughout Mandate’s outer shell, making his whole body a weapon, though not too deadly. Once again, his lightweight construction hinders him and leaves him vulnerable, especially to weapons fire, though he is adept at disabling a single bot’s optics and voicebox at close quarters using his hands and feet.
- Wing Cape- Two transparent, leathery wings hang from each of Mandate’s shoulders. While apparently made of soft crepe, each carries an razorwire trim that can be used, whiplike, in tandem with Mandate’s martial arts training. They can leave cracks in a bot’s armour that will ‘soften it up’ for further attacks.
- Javelins- Formed by beast mode legs and folded in alongside his shin-guards, these can be thrown or used as a stabbing weapon. They are somewhat useful in being more compact than Mandate’s katana.
Personality
Excruciatingly polite, subtly manipulative, coldly arrogant, and sometimes said to be overly efficient, Mandate retains an inexplicable icy calm at all times. Perhaps it is because he’s a master of the sword (and most other weapons), and classical poetry, oriental calligraphy, several forms of complex etiquette, history, philosophy and political sciences. Perhaps it is his daily meditations or the security that an immense family fortune provides. Or perhaps it is simple pride that will not allow others the satisfaction of seeing him lose his cool.
Mandate is a Predacon, however, and has no qualms about doing anything he deems necessary to protect his interests, be they of his company, his ship and crew, or his faction as a whole. He has a perverse sense of honour: if Dinobot’s code was comparable to bushido, then Mandate might be called ronin, making him a peculiarly principled mercenary sort. Mandate’s greatest asset is his phenomenal speed, both physical and mental. Mandate is learned, erudite and capable of some degree of charm. He is well-spoken, and witty when he chooses to be, though prone to seriousness. Manifestly dangerous, it must be something in how he carries himself: the ephemeral grace of a butterfly, but with a hunter's poise. Possibly it is the skilful way he carries a blade (or the manner in which throws it across a room). Whatever it is, his beast mode is aptly chosen.
He has a temper, slow to build, quick to ignite, although you wouldn’t know it; blink and you’ll miss it. You’ll probably miss your head, too. Mandate believes in swift justice, as he believes in swift everything. He has no compunctions about killing when expedient, and views death with little significance if any. He has reprimanded on at least one occasion for systematically murdering his way through an entire enemy base, though in his defense his cover had already been blown and the mission would have failed otherwise. He has matured in the years since, and now attempts only to kill in self-defense, or when under direct orders from a superior.
As a subordinate, Mandate is outwardly obedient, hardworking and humble. Speaking little of personal ambition, he seemingly exists only to serve the powers that be...at least until such time as the powers in question prove their own incompetence. Which they inevitably do-- Mandate’s perfectionist standards make sure of that. Nobody lives up to Mandate’s ideals. Which, of course, may be the entire point to begin with. The only one who comes close is, not surprisingly, Mandate himself. It is not so much that Mandate desires power. He is simply not willing to serve anyone lower than himself. All the same, he pays his respects to the system, and in return, he finds new ways to work it to his own advantage.
A great lover of natural beauty, Mandate enjoys solitary walks, gardening and the company of birds. He frequently composes poems and paintings on the subject of landscapes and wildlife. He has published several volumes of his poetry-- they are popular with several alien cultures. He has also undertaken music lessons in the past, but has had little time for them of late.
Being as diversely talented as he is, it’s no wonder no one likes him.
History
Activated only a few short decades ago, Mandate seems much older. His shell was commissioned as an heir to the industrial empire of the Decepticon entrepreneur Agenda, in the unlikely event of her demise. Every aspect of his construction was coordinated under her exacting standards, and she took on the task programming his entire mind herself. All this combines to make Mandate her perfect son, although the difference between perfect and ideal is small but semantically significant. Even though Mandate’s precise, controlled nature went against the grain of Agenda’s more organic management style, his innate efficiency and strategic mind ensured his quick rise through the ranks, making junior executive in less than a year.
However, the young Mandate was dissatisfied with his lot in life; he felt he was not using his full potential. While not an adventurous spark in and of himself, he felt someone of his capabilities, physical as well as mental, was obliged to make use of them, one way or another, and spending all his time confined to offices and boardrooms he had never had cause to even draw the swords grafted onto his chassis. So it was that Mandate embarked on a second career: that of a thief, operating all over Cybertron, and soon at a number of exotic locales across the known galaxy. He eventually earned entrance to a small fraternity of like-minded individuals, sneakthieves, spies and footpads gathering influence throughout Cybertronian space, clandestinely gathering resources and information, wielding moderate influence behind the scenes. And all the while, in his public life, Agenda’s high-flying executive son crisscrossed planets and solar systems in his business yacht, closing large deals and brokering new partnerships in remote locales, little-known corners where few ships ventured. Hardly anyone seemed to know where he was at any given time.
It came as somewhat of a surprise to his colleagues at the DTC (Agenda not least of all) when Mandate was cordially, and quite publicly, invited to attend the Predacon Naval Academy -- even more so when he accepted. The story was as high as fourth page in Prime City’s newsholos.
It is almost needless to say at this point that Mandate excelled at the Academy, and climbed up the ladder of the military hierarchy with the same quiet determination he brought to all things. He was with the military for over two decades, fighting countless battles on planets’ surfaces as well as in space, including the Tygress engagement, and he held the rank of subcommander below Captain Feint before his retirement.
More recently, he spent a good eight years working with the Predacon’s diplomatic corps as an aide, occasionally a guard, and, unofficially, of course, as a spy. The Decepticons conquered many worlds in their age-long rule, and many were still in various stages of disarray, discontent, societal collapse and violent, revolutionary upheaval. The Predacons were there ostensibly on missions of peace and goodwill—it was part of the terms of the Pax. Out on the edges of the former Decepticon Empire, were planets and whole systems, in the process of being ushered into newfound freedom after years, centuries, even millennia as slaves and chattel below the Decepticon yoke. Even now, they were still wrestling with Cybertronian colonial authorities, remaining on fringe planets ‘for their own good’. It was a slow process back to true autonomy. Any one of them would have been hard-pressed to survive if their oppressor’s successors (ha-ha) had pulled out all at once...
...Even though, incidentally, this is exactly what happened at many such places. Out of spite upon the signing of the Pax Cybertronia, many Decepticons and newly reformatted Predacons abandoned worlds wholly dependent on Cybertonian infrastructure for food, and for that matter, fresh air in certain cases. Such planets, already ruined by pollution from heavy industry, strip-mines, huge refineries and factories, gasped their last as the slave industry dwindled into a few scattered outlaws on the fringes of space. Entire species died out, the limping remnants of great civilizations past vanished over a few days. There was probably nothing the Maximals could have done to stop it, at the time, short of rescinding the Pax, years of work, and even that was no guarantee that the Predacon deserters, the renegades, would return to their posts. It was the great secret shame of the Pax. To this day it is a chapter in Cybertronian history many would rather forget. Easily done, in the chaos which surrounded the controversial treaty.
Learning lost history, and knowing of the Great War only from an outsider’s perspective, the more Mandate saw of the universe, the more it humbled him. He returned changed, more pensive, but also more directed. Where before he had wandered, climbing business, military and social ladders because it was expected of him and because it was easy, he had never found any lasting fulfillment. Now he had a purpose. All he needed now was time, time to gather his thoughts and formulate his future strategy.
Having returned to the civilian population (as part of the Predacons’ ‘Special Reserve Forces’) He has since resumed a career at his mother’s corporation, Diversified Technical Concepts, taking on a special role as a ‘security consultant’. His exact duties and rank in the company seem flexible at best, arbitrary at worst, and vague and nebulous as a general rule. Generally speaking, Mandate is treated as a special case, although whether this is via his own merit, nepotism, or some threat he holds over others is rarely well-established. This is much as Mandate prefers it, and he cultivates his relationships with authority figures accordingly.
His file rates his loyalty as being unexpectedly high. He is, however, noted for loyalty to his company, government and faction first (in ascending order of importance), rather than his commander or any other individual person. Not that he is ever outright disrespectful of rank, but on several occasions he has gone over a superior’s head with evidence of wrongdoing.
Mandate and Prism met briefly prior to Tygress’s rise to power, during a separate campaign. They are not friends, but they do hold a certain mutual respect for each other.
Lost Opportunities
Assuming the fractured timeline is restored, Mandate will rejoin the Predacon Military. He is subsequently promoted to the rank of commander, and assigned to the Predacon battlecruiser Kismet, then under the care of one Captain Feint. Public record lists the Kismet as a refurbished pirate hunter patrolling the Colonies. Yet secretly under orders from the Tripredacus Council, the Kismet gathers wayward Predacons such as Genocide and Kraken, as well as acquiring stasis pods and protoforms to be 'recruited' to the Predacon cause.
A suspicious chain of events leads to Feint's death, with Mandate taking command. The Commissar Malady is assigned to investigate, and meanwhile keeps a close watch on the Kismet and its crew of misfits. The Kismet's final, disastrous assignment is the capture of the Maximal colony ship Argos. A heated chase through sector culminates in the events of the Ultimate RPG, and the permanent grounding of Mandate's first command.
Mandate was not among those who left the Rock aboard the Sleipnir.
Incarnations
Mandate was originally created by Agent Rasp as an NPC on the Ultimate RPG, the leader of that board's Predacons. After Rasp's departure, he and many other characters were adopted by Tarantulas, who likes to think he has since made them his own.
A past/alternate version of the character has since come to Predacon Base RPG, being the one largely portrayed in the above document.
