Hardware:

Created By: Marc Gendron
Assisted By: P. Michael Hodge
A.K.A: The Crimson Avenger
REAL NAME: Trevor Biggs



HISTORY:

or

The Secret Origin of "The Scarlet Avenger" (A.K.A. "Hardware")

Trevor Biggs has never lived up to his name, and may never do so....at least not in his current life. The son of a car recycler (PC for a junk-pile operator), Trevor was never the macho type. He never really took any interest in major sports like baseball and football, and it's a good thing too, for his five and a half foot frame was never built for strong impacts. In fact the least impact possible was Trevor's motto for the better part of his high school days.

It didn't help that Trevor was a bit of a geek and even more of a 'brain' than everyone else his age. He graduated far ahead of his class and earned his first doctorate in mechanical engineering and robotics by age seventeen and his second degree in electrical engineering by age twenty-one. The degrees secretly pleased his father, who had not had the opportunities nor the patience to continue past his high school degree, but what had pleased Trevor's father the most with what others called a 'weak and soft son' was Trevor's love of cars, trucks and everything mechanical or electronic. On his off time and on weekends, Trevor could be found scrounging deep within the bowels of the scrap yard, looking for this piece of motor or that length of wiring for his newest toy.

Trevor did indeed love his cars, and had put together all of the cars he'd ever driven since getting his first license, from scratch. Even though no one would ride with him in one of his odd-looking conglomerations, he could be seen driving at high speeds down deserted roads in a spiced up Chevy, testing it's re-drilled carburetor. His 'need for speed' almost got him into trouble at various times with local law enforcement. He would have lost his license several times over had it not been for the fact that there's not a factory-made car or police cruiser in existence that could ever catch up to one of Trevor's special creations.

Trevor's other love, understandable considering that he'd outgrown his childhood far too fast, was comic books. At night, he'd dream of flying around, rescuing beautiful women from mustachioed villains and, in the morning, in the light of day, reality would crash down on him and he'd go on. It was this dream, and a love for his favorite comic book hero, Iron Man, that prompted Trevor's choice of study and the guiding force behind his own secret project.

Deep in the back ranges of the Junk Yard, inside the private workshop/garage that his father had given him (it wasn't being used or even looked at anymore by paying customers, to the point where people had even forgotten that it had ever existed) was where Trevor's dreams of being a hero first came to fruition. He had been working closely with industrialized robotics and had managed to recreate one of the arms from the local plant using crude makeshift materials at hand. With WALDO technology, he had linked his own right arm to the mechanical arm now strapped to his back meant to support it's weight comfortably, and he had begun making tests.

He was able to move the arm easily (although not smoothly) and crush cans, old mufflers and even a car door or two with it and was flushed with excitement when he made his first mistake, and nearly his last. Filled with bravado, he walked up to a car (at the extent that all of his electrical umbilical cord would let him go) and tried to pick it up. The brace, meant only to hold the weight of the robotic arm, when faced with the far heavier weight, nearly broke his back and actually did break his arm in two places.

Trevor managed to work his way out of the WALDO apparatus, into his car and to the hospital before passing out in his car in front of the emergency ward. The two months in a body cast and he recovery from the operation to straighten out his arm did one good thing for him, though. It gave him plenty of time to think about things in more detail, and slow down a bit. He'd made mistakes rushing to get the arm finished and had made a few stupid mistakes...but he'd fix his mistakes as soon as time allowed his body to fix itself.

By the time his arm was back to form, he'd already solved most of his design problems and was ready to start again. The new arm was braced to the floor and counterbalanced with a second arm on the other side. The new method worked beautifully and, after pushing a car within the arms' reach, he easily picked it up and threw it, in a crude overhand method, a good twenty feet away. Amazed by his own success, he took his father out to celebrate. This was where the biggest change in his life would occur.

He and his father had driven into New York city for a big dinner and a night out on the town when the unthinkable happened...they managed to find themselves in the middle of a robbery. A small group of men dressed in black led by a larger man dressed in what looked like a Super-hero outfit (spandex tights and a hood) robbed the restaurant they had picked to eat in. Trevor's father, not a man to be pushed around in general, made a fatal mistake by standing up to the man in tights. Trevor's father was struck down by the man in black. The blow astonished Trevor, both because it was directed at his father (which was bad) and, throwing his father ten feet through the air and through a heavy oak door, it must have come from an extremely strong man. The thieves got away before the police arrived, and Trevor's father was taken to hospital where he died from his wounds.

The events of that evening had been one of the earliest examples of the appearance of so-called super-villains since the arrival of The Pantheon and the robbery was highly publicized in the media. The security tapes from the restaurant were leaked to the press and became headline news all over the world. This robbery, and others like it, changed the face of the world. Soon, would-be super-heroes and super-villains started coming out of the woodwork as if the floodgates had been opened. Something had happened and the world was slowly becoming more and more like the world found in comic books, much to the amusement of newspapermen and news anchors.

Trevor never noticed this, though. Fueled by the anger at his father's death and by a need to revenge the death of a good man, Trevor had thrown himself into the creation of the tool he would use to gain revenge. It took him year to accomplish it using the limited resources of the junk yard he now owned and only operated part of the time, but the results were spectacular. Trevor had created the power suit that he'd dreamed of for all those years; it was not only damn strong and loaded with more gadgets than even he remembered, but it was as slick looking and colorful as Trevor's imagination would allow. The suit resembled nothing if not what man would have looked like if he had evolved from a Lamborghini Diablo.

It was pretty rough mechanically, and not all of the systems worked all that well, but Trevor had made sure that it looked good, thinking perhaps that seeing the 'suit' would stop most villains before Trevor would even have to test out glitchy systems on them. After having loaded the 'suit' into the back of the modified heavy tow truck which now looked like a very large van, he drove into town looking for a place to park the truck while he went out to put the suit to good use. He managed to find the trouble he was looking for before he even managed to find a suitable spot to park the truck. His police scanners told of a robbery involving MetaHumans (as super-powered beings were now being called) close by where he might be able to try out the suit.

He backed the truck into an alley next to an empty factory and moved into the back of the truck from inside the cab. "At least the main systems work well" he thought to himself after strapping himself into the suit and closing the main hatch for the first trip outside of the test center which the junk yard had become. He hit the ignition switch, gritting his teeth at the noise the large engine made from so close to his body. Trevor turned up the coolant systems to maximum and set up the few working weapons that he had (as well as a few that e wasn't too sure about) and, with the flick of a switch to open up the van doors, Trevor stepped out into the night air.

The crime, a robbery of an armored car, was happening only two streets away and Trevor ran the whole way; the long legs of the 'suit' eating up the distance much faster then Trevor would have dreamed of doing himself. When he finally got within range to see what was happening, the suit was already getting a bit warm and Trevor was sweating somewhat but he was so excited that he ignored the heat. The first villain that he saw was dressed in basic black with a few spikes scattered here and there across his shoulders, and he was reaching into the armored car to get something that was being passed out to him. The first villain hadn't noticed him, and Trevor felt that it was time to make his presence known. He flipped on the outside speakers that he'd installed the day before, took a deep breath and said "FREEZE OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!".

His voice, modified by the synthesizer and augmented by the amplifiers boomed out of the stereo speakers and surprised everyone...including Trevor. His voice was so loud that the windows of nearby stores burst from the shock, the visible villain leapt straight into the air grasping at his ears, the one inside the truck slammed his head into the roof of the truck so hard that the dent was visible from the outside. And even poor Trevor, only partially protected from the sound of the suit itself, started bleeding from his ears. The reaction from the rest of the population was something else entirely, though. For fifteen blocks around, everyone even moving by the smallest amount stopped what they were doing and froze in place...if only for a few seconds. The feedback from the speakers drove more people to their knees from shock than any high school teacher ever managed to do from the 'nails across the blackboard' trick that all substitute teachers are taught. Trevor had certainly caught people's attention for what was about to happen.

The super villain in black was still boubled over holding onto his ears when the second one stepped out from the back of the toppled Brinks van. This new villain was certainly the type with super strength as he was bulging with muscles and was easily eight feet tall. Trevor's suit still made him taller than this new arrival, but it wasn't clear whether he was even close to being as strong if muscle mass had anything to do with it.

"Fuck off, you walking pile of junk, before you get hurt!" said the larger man, that Trevor had nicknamed 'The Bruiser' and he flexed his arms to prove his point as to exactly what he meant. He then gave the other one a pat on the shoulder and straightened him out. The smaller one was holding something in his hands, and before Trevor could do anything, he was knocked back a step. The flash of light had come from what looked like a crystal ball and had hit Trevor's lower torso armor, buckling it as if it had bin made of tin instead of the steel found in old cars. The shot did jolt Trevor back into action though and, having already lowered his speakers to their lowest levels, he said "Well, if THAT's how you want it!"

Trevor cleared the space between himself and the two villains in only a few steps, and shot out an arm to hit 'The Bruiser' a solid blow with his metallic fist. The bruiser wasn't where the fist landed...but the armored truck sure was. The blow was quite a bit stronger than Trevor was expecting and made a good size hole in the armored truck; knocking it back towards the sidewalk where it came to a grinding halt. Cursing the servo-motors for their slow response speed, he tapped in the code for releasing the safety measures and swung hard to the left where the Bruiser was now standing and about to do something. The servo-motors responded admirably this time and landed a solid blow...but had almost no effect.

The Bruiser seemed merely to grunt and then smile as he caught  and then crushed   the powered claw on the left arm. Trevor panicked and hit the first button his fingers on his left hand touched. A high-powered jet of black motor oil flew out of one of the spray nozzles below the arm and straight into the grinning face of the bruiser. Blinded temporarily, the Bruiser let go of the arm and tried to take a step back. He didn't get very far because all of the oil that had hit him in the face was now on the concrete beneath his feet. The Bruiser slipped on the slick patch of concrete and fell flat on his face.

Trevor recovered fast enough to try one of his tricks that he'd meant to wait on until he'd had time for further testing. Pointing his right arm towards the bruiser, he pressed the button for the glue gun. A globe half the size of a basketball shout out of it's barrel at several thousand feet per second and slammed down into the middle of the Bruiser's back. The globe burst like an over-ripe fruit, spreading out in the most sticky air-sensitive glue that Trevor could get his hands on. This glue had only a four-second hardening time so Trevor stepped the 'suit' out of the way and watched the Bruiser get stuck down to the concrete in a way that would certainly make it difficult for even him to get up. The Bruiser wiggled what he could (his fingers) and tried to speak but, unfortunately for him, his lower lip seemed to have been caught in the mess.

Trevor's frame shook as something hit him from behind. He had forgotten about the other guy with the spikes, but he wasn't going to let him go now. Spinning around as fast as he could, Trevor scanned the street for the Punk and soon saw him peeking out from behind a car. Another series of smaller shots like machine gun fire flew out from the globe in the Punk's hands, and made it sound like it was hailing outside without making too much of an impression on the 'suit's outer hull. "Hmmm..." thought Trevor, "when he fires quickly like that, he doesn't pack near as much punch as when he shoots one big burst."

Trevor aimed his right arm at the Punk and fired off yet another globe of sticky stuff at him. But the Punk wasn't there to receive delivery of Trevor's special delivery 'package'. The Punk had literally flipped across the street in a series of back flips at astonishing speed. The three other globes that Trevor fired all missed as well, although they did make quite a mess of the street; freezing everything in mid-splat.

"Hah! Think you can hit me? You've got to be joking buddy. I'm THE FIREBUG!"

The name didn't ring any bells for Trevor and he didn't care even if it did. Trevor was out to stop a robbery and get some crime-fighting experience under his belt while he was at it, and name or no-name villains were all the same to him. He started forward at a steady trot and tried to send out another cute little trick that he'd wanted to try, but all he got out of it was another red light blinking at the periphery of his vision telling him that yet another thing was not working. He'd have to finish this fight soon as well because the 'suit' was starting to get really hot and the coolants weren't working as well has he'd hoped they would.

Luckily, he was wearing a headband because, otherwise, the sweat from his brow would have blinded him. He made a mental note to find a way to wipe his face or add a fan inside the head piece for just this, and then jumped out of the way of one of the larger blasts that Firebug had shot at him. A second shot hit him in the left arm, causing all sorts of failure lights to start blinking to get his attention. Then one of his smoke globes burst open inside it's clip, taking out the one next to it as well. Thick white smoke shot out from the barrel and started filling up the area around him. The Firebug had already tried to dodge the column of smoke that had come out at high speed from the barrel, but he wasn't able to dodge far.

The smoke spread quickly and thickly and caught up to him before he'd even gone ten feet. Trevor heard a cry of surprise as Firebug slammed into something he'd forgotten was there...the car. Tapping the button for the infrared lights and goggle filters, Trevor turned the suit towards where the Firebug should be, and saw him crawling away. It took only three steps to get to him and one punch to stop him. When the police arrived, they saw Trevor or, rather, the 'suit' coming out of the smoke cloud with The Firebug in his right claw.

The police were used to this kind of thing it seemed, because they immediately pulled out a pair of huge metallic gloves joined at the wrist and slammed then around Firebug's arms, after having taken the globe he'd been using out of his limp hand. Another pair of cops were trying to free the Bruiser from the glue with no luck. Trevor walked over and sprayed the dissolving solution on just the Bruiser's arms until they got the cuffs on him, and then on to the rest of him to free him completely from his sticky situation.

Trevor had to get out of there, though. There was no way that Trevor could explain who he was and he wasn't about to answer questions. Trevor started to turn away when one of the police officers stepped in his path. Trevor almost considered forcing his way past the officer, and was glad that he didn't, when the plainclothesman held out a card in his hand.

"It's for a new squad that's being put together. I give them to all of the super types that seem to be on our side.", he said as he handed to small card out to the huge claw-like hand capable of crushing steel like tinfoil.

"What makes you think I want to join the police?"

"I don't ... I just do this...just in case...Think about it, will you? It's not going to cost you anything to do that."

Trevor carefully took the card and slipped it into one of the slots he'd built into the chest of the 'suit' for just such occasions and then turned to pass him by.

"Hey, wait a second. What do we call you? The press'll want to know."

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it that way. Make something up for me, make it kewl, Okay?"

"I'm hardly the type to go around naming super-heroes, buddy. I just pass out the cards."

"Well, just think about it and I'll do the same. If I call you, we'll discuss the matter. But right now, I gotta go repair he 'suit'" Trevor said to him and walked past him quickening his pace to a run and turning the first corner.

The truck was still there and, miraculously, untouched. Trevor was pretty sure that no one saw him get into it with the 'suit' and drive off. It was a pleasure to get out of there with all that heat and cool off for a bit. The drive home got him thinking about things like how to fix the 'suit' to work better, which parts to keep and which parts to scrap.

The biggest puzzle of all, though, was the card he had been given. "What the hell would the United Nations want with super-powered people, anyway?"

Trevor was soon to find out as he was accepted into basic training for the United Nations International Task-force on Metahuman affairs...UNIT-M.

As a member of UNIT-M, Trevor was given the chance to live out his childhood fantasy of becoming a bonafied super-hero and help his fellow man at the same time. Also, given access to the latest technology available to UNIT-M, Trevor has been able upgrade his 'suit' far beyond his wildest dreams.

PERSONALITY & MOTIVATIONS:

Trevor is an overgrown kid living his fantasy-life of a super-hero. Slightly self-conscious about his lack to true "super powers", Trevor tries harder than most to live up to the ideals of the super-heroes he grew up with. Aside from Mega-Man, no one is more prone to spout super-heroic cliches in the midst of battle than Trevor.

It was this idolization of super heroes that caused Trevor to first call himself "The Crimson Avenger." Bowing to peer pressure from his teammates (and the UNIT-M public relations team) Trevor finally toned down his super heroic code name to be "Hardware."

Since without his 'suit' he is powerless and defenseless, Trevor takes great care of his 'baby'; endlessly tinkering and improving upon her design. Each time his armors scratched, Trevor winces in sympathy.

Similar to his situation while growing up, Trevor still has problems with his people skills and interpersonal relationships. He still prefers the company of his 'toys' and 'gadgets' to real people. But sometimes, if you listen to him talking to them while working on them, you'd swear he thinks that his machines are 'real people' too. Maybe it's no coincidence that Trevor's favorite film is still the original 'Herbie, The Love Bug'.

QUOTE:

"whrrrr...thump...whrrr...thump...whrrr...thump...DAH-DAH-DAAHHHH!!!!"
(All courtesy of a sound-effects synthesizer he has hooked up to the 'suit's speakers...)

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Although Trevor believes himself to have no "super" powers, his intelligence and powers of recall far exceed that of a normal human mind. In fact, he's been know to out-think several brands of Personal Computer in computational calculations. It was Trevor who first detected the Pentium Floating Point Error when his new computer wasn't giving him the same answer as he was getting when he did the calculation in his head.

As Hardware, Trevor carries a vast arsenal of special weapons and devices. The two his is most proud of though are his Mini Grenade Launcher and Spray Dispenser System. These two components, incorporated into the earliest of the 'suit's incarnations provide Trevor with a wide array of methods by which to incapacitate his foes without harming them.

The latest versions of the 'suit' are actually comprised of two separate offensive and defensive systems. Effectively, Trevor wears a suit of armor within a suit of armor. In the event of the exterior armor taking sufficient damage to render it inoperable, Trevor is able to eject himself in the interior armor and continue the battle with diminished firepower but increased determination.

Aside from it's defensive capabilities, the basic operation of the interior armor provides Trevor with man-amplification systems increasing his strength by a factor of five. The exterior armor's man-amplification system further augment his strength be a factor of ten. When both suits are in full working order, Trevor's strength is magnified by a factor of fifty.

Growing up as a rather frail and delicate youth, Trevor has overcompensated somewhat in his role as a super-hero. Applying his vast intellect to self-defense, Trevor has developed his own fighting style on a level with most professional martial artists. Although the trained eye can recognize the flawed style and "amateur" methods of Trevor, they, nonetheless, cannot dispute his effectiveness in battle.

The most surprising thing about Trevor's fighting style, however, is that he spent most of his time developing his style of fighting while wearing a twelve-foot suit of armor weighing almost a ton. Because of this, Trevor's fighting prowess actually improves while he is wearing his armor.

APPEARANCE:

Trevor stands about five foot eight and, although he has a deceptively light frame, he packs a solid 178 pounds of muscle into that wiry body of his. Of hispanic descent, Trevor has a dusky complexion, wavy dark hair and brown eyes. If Trevor ever crawled out from underneath his machines, he would discover that most women find him incredibly attractive.

When wearing his Hardware armor, Trevor is easy to identify as the Battle-bot in the group. Unfortunately, he's always modifying the design and appearance of his mechanized alter-ego. The one constant is that Hardware is consistently large and impressive.

Several preliminary designs from Trevor's sketch-book are included with this file to indicate the variety of designs that Trevor has (or will have) implemented.

Hardware © Marc Gendron 1998

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