Chapter 12 - Touching the Sky
Sonoran Desert, California
August 20, 2013
The wind rushed past Annie's face as she soared high above the sunbaked landscape, her golden hair streaming behind her like a comet's tail. Below her, the desert stretched to the horizon, the dry earth speckled with withered plants stretched on and on. A radiant smile spread across her face as she banked left, adjusting her flight path, revelling in the sheer freedom of the moment.
Flying wasn't just exhilarating—it was liberating.
She had spent years dreaming of this, of soaring above the world like the heroes she'd idolized as a child. Like Homelander and Liberty. But until Nathan Greene had handed her the ARC reactor, she had never even considered it a possibility. Now, the small, glowing device was strapped to her chest with a jury-rigged harness. She could feel it—warm and pulsing, like a second heartbeat—feeding power into her cells, amplifying her natural abilities in a way she hadn't even thought possible.
She laughed as she twisted into a loop-the-loop, arms stretched wide, revelling in the pure joy of the experience. God, this is amazing.
Then, Nathan's voice crackled through her earbud.
"Okay, that's great, Annie. Now can you try seeing just how fast you can go? We need a reading to make your suit."
She glanced downward at the small outdoor testing station nestled amidst the rocky terrain. Several people from both Vought International and Greene Industries stood gathered around an array of high-tech monitoring equipment, all watching her intently. Nathan himself stood at the center of the group, wearing aviator sunglasses and a confident smirk, his arms crossed as he observed her flight through the drones and cameras following her.
Before she could respond, his voice came through again—this time lower, almost amused.
"By the way, I've switched to a private channel."
She blinked. Private channel?
"Just thought you should know... you're still wearing a skirt," he said casually. "Might wanna reconsider those loops."
Annie's face ignited in an instant, a deep red flush creeping from her cheeks all the way to her ears. Her flight faltered for half a second, nearly sending her into a midair tumble.
"I—!" she stammered, frantically adjusting her trajectory, hands tugging at the hem of her skirt as if she could somehow undo what had just happened.
Nathan chuckled softly, the sound warm but reassuring. "Relax, you're too far away for us to see from down here, and that's why I have the drones in front of you. They didn't catch anything either, but I thought I should warn you."
She exhaled sharply, still burning with embarrassment, but managed a small, flustered, "Thank you."
"Anytime. Remind me to make sure that area is covered on your new suit."
The private channel cut out, and his voice returned to the open frequency. "Alright, whenever you're ready, let's see what you've got."
Swallowing down the last of her flustered nerves, Annie set her jaw, focused her energy, and pushed forward.
Nathan Greene stood with his hands over a keyboard as he watched the high-speed telemetry feed on the monitor before him. Around him, a small team of Greene Industries and Vought technicians bustled at their workstations, their faces bathed in the glow of tracking screens and diagnostic readings.
Above them, the sky was a perfect, endless blue—punctuated only by the fading trail of Starlight, streaking across the atmosphere faster than the speed of sound.
On the drone feed, she was little more than a golden blur, the ARC reactor on her chest burning like a miniature sun. The AI-tracked cameras had already lost visual contact twice. The drones deployed to follow her had maxed out their own top speeds at Mach 1.2, and she had left them far behind in seconds.
Nathan smirked, glancing at the speed readout. Mach 1.7 and climbing.
Damn. She's fast.
Beside him, a dry voice spoke, breaking through the hum of equipment.
"You didn't have to tell her that, you know."
Nathan turned his head slightly to regard the speaker—none other than Stan Edgar himself.
The older man stood with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his expression as unreadable as ever. Dressed impeccably in his dark three-piece suit, Stan looked like he had zero business being in the middle of a dusty, sunbaked desert testing site, yet here he was, as calm and unbothered as if he were sitting in his corporate office.
Nathan glanced at the others around, but they were too far away to have eavesdropped like the surprisingly silent CEO. That was something of a relief as he really didn't want to embarrass Starlight any more than he had already.
"Most young men in your position wouldn't," Stan added, his gaze never leaving the monitor.
Nathan exhaled through his nose in amusement. "It felt dishonest not to at least warn her."
Stan gave him a measured look, one brow lifting ever so slightly.
Nathan tilted his head. "And you didn't have to come all the way out here personally."
Stan let out a short breath, something almost resembling a laugh. "True. But considering the obvious gaps you pointed out in our evaluations, I thought it prudent to see how you operate."
Nathan wished he had a good response to that, but this really was a case of him being hoisted by his own petard. Now he just had to suffer the consequences of Stan Edgar breathing down his neck.
He looked at the reading and saw that Starlight had topped out at just over Mach 2.1.
Greene Technologies, Silicon Valley
August 28, 2013
Annie stepped out of the black limousine onto the front driveway of Greene Tech's main laboratory. The white concrete and glass panels of the building gleamed under the California sun. Compared to the grandiose, almost temple-like aesthetic of Vought Tower, Greene Industries had a cleaner, more modern approach—less corporate shrine, more cutting-edge tech hub.
Her boyfriend, Alex, AKA Drummer Boy and The Standard were already outside the car and looking around.
Reporters and fans were gathered around the entrance, cameras flashing and voices shouting out questions to them. They were being held back by security.
Annie smiled tightly at them and waved. Alex and The Standard did the same.
Her smile became more genuine when she saw an adorable little girl with a Starlight-themed T-shirt and those new star-shaped sunglasses Vought had been selling ever since the pageant. She waved at the girl politely.
Behind her, General Issue and Holy Mary climbed out of the limousine as well, looking around with varying degrees of curiosity. Stan Edgar and Madelyn Stillwell emerged from their own car, flanked by a handful of Vought personnel, including the costume designers Seth Reed and Evan Lambert.
At Annie's side, her mother, Donna January, surveyed the building with narrowed eyes. "It's not as… grand as Vought Tower," she muttered.
Annie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, that's what she cares about.
As their group approached the lobby entrance, the massive glass doors slid open with a soft hiss. Standing just inside was a young woman in a perfectly tailored dark green suit, her short, curly black hair framing a confident, no-nonsense expression. She appeared to be in her early twenties.
Beside her stood a man Annie recognized immediately—the one Nathan had introduced back at the pageant. The Legend. He was shorter than she remembered, dressed in a pinstriped three-piece suit, and wearing glasses that perched slightly crooked on his nose.
The young woman stepped forward first, offering a professional smile. "Welcome to Greene Industries," she greeted. "I'm Jessica Bradley, President of Greene Industries."
The Legend smirked. "And I'm just here for the free coffee and air conditioning."
Stan Edgar remained composed as ever, though his gaze lingered on The Legend for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Meanwhile, Madelyn Stillwell's lips pressed into a thin line before she finally spoke. "And where exactly is Mr. Greene?"
Jessica, gave a tight, polite smile. "Apologies. Let me check."
She turned slightly, speaking to the ceiling. "A.L.A.N., where is Nathan?"
A cultured British voice responded smoothly from unseen overhead speakers. "Mr. Greene is currently in his lab, Miss Bradley."
Jessica exhaled, already looking mildly exasperated. "And why didn't he come down to meet us?"
A.L.A.N. replied, "Apologies. Mr. Greene has activated Do Not Disturb mode again."
There was a beat of silence.
Annie blinked.
Madelyn's expression tightened.
The Legend snorted. "Kid's playing mad scientist again."
Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose. "A.L.A.N., override it. Tell him he has guests."
"I am afraid I can only do so in emergencies, Miss Bradley. However, I can record a message if you'd like."
Stan Edgar turned his gaze toward Jessica. "I assume this isn't unusual?"
Jessica sighed. "Unfortunately, no. He tends to forget meetings like this a lot. Once he's focused on something, getting him to stop is like trying to turn off a hurricane."
Madelyn exhaled sharply through her nose, clearly not amused. "He invited us here. The least he could have done is meet us at the door."
Jessica shot an apologetic glance towards her. "Well, we were supposed to go to do this in the lab anyway. Why don't we just make our way up there now?"
The doors to the lab slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing an expansive, high-tech workspace that looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie.
Annie's eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight. The lab was enormous—larger than she had expected, with multi-tiered platforms, glass-panelled offices suspended overhead, and modular workstations spread across the floor. Monitors displayed live data streams, 3D schematics, and other technical readouts she couldn't make sense of. Massive industrial robotic arms hung from the ceiling, either working on assembly projects or with their joints flexing slightly in place as though waiting for commands.
The sheer scale of technology made Vought's R&D divisions look downright archaic in comparison.
Her team and the Vought people spread out cautiously as they took in the environment. Stan Edgar surveyed the lab with a vaguely interested expression, while Madelyn Stillwell looked at everything with a calculating gaze.
The design duo seemed to be trying to absorb everything, wondering how they could all of this into their own work. It would make a fantastic background for any number of photoshoots, magazine covers or movie scenes.
Annie, her mother, and her team just looked around in awe.
Jessica, walking ahead, didn't even blink at the sight—likely used to it by now. "Nathan takes his work very seriously," she said, voice dry. "Unfortunately, that also means he takes everyone else's schedules significantly less seriously."
Annie had to suppress a small smirk.
From across the lab, the hum of machinery and the clatter of tools echoed, accompanied by the occasional muttered curse.
They followed the noise, weaving past an array of futuristic-looking equipment, and half-assembled prototypes.
Then, they saw him.
At the far side of the lab, the top of Nathan Greene's head just poked out from a massive, circular structure made of interconnected tubes and glowing conduits, its design looking suspiciously similar to a particle accelerator—except far more compact.
Jessica cupped her hands around her mouth. "Nathan!"
Nathan jolted slightly, clearly having not heard them over whatever he was doing. He stood up and turned, revealing his upper body to them. He was dressed in a fitted black tank top that showed off his surprisingly toned muscles, with a pair of black goggles pushed up onto his forehead. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his hands were black with some kind of machine grease.
He blinked in surprise before glancing at a nearby display for the time.
His eyes widened slightly. "Crap!"
With a sheepish chuckle, he wiped his oily hands on a nearby cloth and made his way out of the machine towards them, clearly aware of the collective glares being directed his way.
"Uh... hey, everyone," he greeted, slipping into his usual easy charm as he pushed his goggles up onto his head. "Sorry about that. I got a little caught up."
Jessica folded her arms, arching an eyebrow. "A little?"
Nathan gestured vaguely toward the machine behind him. "Okay, a lot caught up."
Madelyn's expression was stone. "You invited us here, Mr. Greene."
Nathan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. My bad. But in my defence—" he motioned toward the large, ring-like structure behind him— "I was busy working on Starlight's suit. And now? Problem solved."
His words had the intended effect. All eyes snapped back to the device, intrigue replacing some of the irritation.
Stan Edgar spoke first. "Explain."
Nathan wiped the last of the grease from his hands, tossing the rag onto a nearby workbench. He glanced over at the group assembled in front of him, noting the mix of irritation, curiosity, and outright awe among the various members of Vought and the Young Americans.
He clapped his hands together. "Alright, before we get into the details, let's do this properly. Introductions first."
He turned to Annie first, offering a small smile. "Several of you I've already met of course, but the rest of you not so much.
Nathan continued, turning his attention to the rest of the group. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Nathan Greene, CEO of Greene Technologies. It's a pleasure to finally meet you all properly."
Drummer Boy, standing next to Annie, stepped forward first. He was wearing his usual white costume, with a gold star on the chest partially hidden by the red sash holding a drum by his side. "I'm Drummer Boy or just Alex. Team leader of the Young Americans." He shot Nathan a practiced, charming grin—the kind of smile that screamed media training. He offered his hand and Nathan shook it.
Nathan nodded politely, though he had already formed his opinion of Drummer Boy long before this meeting. "Nice to meet you."
"The Standard," said a tall, broad-shouldered boy in a red suit with a cape that was blue on the outside but gold on the inside. His voice was deep, authoritative, and oddly theatrical. He also shook Nathan's hand but declined to give his real name.
"Holy Mary," introduced a young woman with most of her features hidden beneath her nun's habit-themed costume. It was way more form-fitting than any real nun would ever wear. Her lips were painted black to match the habit and twitched into a flirtatious grin as she got a bit closer to Nathan than was strictly necessary for the handshake.
"General Issue," grunted the muscular, boy in a green GI-themed costume that looked a bit like Soldier Boy's old one, albeit with yet another golden cape. His posture was stiff, his expression neutral.
Nathan then turned his gaze toward Donna January, who stood with her arms crossed.
"Donna January," she said, her tone clipped. "Annie's mother and manager."
Nathan kept his face neutral, though internally, he was already suppressing an eye-roll. Oh great, she already hates me. A bit early, but it was going to happen in a few years anyway.
Finally, Madelyn Stillwell introduced herself—though her reputation preceded her.
Everyone kind of ignored the two public relations men, but they seemed quite happy with that. They'd probably learned a long time ago to keep their heads down working for Vought.
Nathan gestured broadly at the group. "Now that we all know each other, let's get down to business."
General Issue nodded toward the large circular structure behind Nathan. "Alright, Greene—what's with the donut? Thought we were here to talk about Starlight's suit, not some sci-fi doomsday machine."
Nathan grinned. "Glad you asked."
He turned toward the machine and tapped a control panel on its side. The ring hummed to life, glowing softly as data readouts appeared on the large screens surrounding the lab.
"This," he explained, "is a next-gen particle accelerator and fusion stabilizer. What it does—simplified for the non-engineers in the room—is refine and compress raw energy into a more stable, high-efficiency power source."
"Higher than your ARC Reactors?" Madelyn asked.
"Than the Palladium models, yes," Nathan said. "See, the Palladium core's great. Incredibly powerful and efficient, but it still has some downsides, like making a toxic heavy-metal waste product. Way better than nuclear waste, but still an issue."
Nathan leaned against the control panel of the particle accelerator, letting the machine hum in the background as he turned back to the group. He could already see the skepticism on Madelyn's face, the intrigue in Stan's gaze, and the sheer confusion from the Young Americans.
"The problem," Nathan continued, answering Madelyn's question, "is that while Palladium was a great short-term solution, it still has limitations. Toxicity, degradation over time, and—frankly—it just isn't efficient enough. I needed something better. The problem was... nothing on the periodic table quite fit the bill."
Stan Edgar raised a brow. "You're saying you found something better? A new alloy instead?"
Nathan smirked. "Not exactly." He tapped the console again, and a new display lit up, showcasing a molecular model. The structure was intricate, and only Jessica really seemed to react, her eyes widening a bit.
"I didn't find a better element. I made one."
The room fell silent.
Annie's jaw slackened slightly, while Donna's skeptical expression cracked just a bit. Drummer Boy looked between Nathan and the glowing schematic like he was waiting for the punchline to a joke.
General Issue crossed his arms. "You made an element?"
Nathan nodded. "Synthesized from the ground up. Took a few hours, but hey, worth it. Higher conductivity, zero toxic byproduct, and a self-regenerating energy lattice. It's basically Palladium but without all the downsides, and a few other benefits."
Jessica, who had been quiet so far, finally let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. "You're going to get another Nobel for this, you know."
Nathan grinned at her. "That'd put us at a tie again, wouldn't it?"
Jessica gave him a mock-annoyed look. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"
"Never," Nathan replied smoothly. "You're still two up on me—Economics and the Peace Prize. That counts for something."
Madelyn folded her arms, unimpressed. "And what do you plan to do with this new element?"
Nathan gestured at Annie. "Well, for starters, power her."
Annie blinked. "Wait, you're putting this in my suit?"
Nathan nodded. "Sure. It was already in the reactor in my suit, the same one I let you borrow a couple of times. I just needed to synthesize some more for your suit. When you pull energy from it, you'll be able to use your powers to the fullest. No energy waste. No power drain. Just pure, limitless energy."
Stan Edgar narrowed his eyes slightly. "Limitless?"
Nathan smirked. "Technically? Yes. Practically? We'll need more testing, but let's just say… she won't be running out of juice anytime soon."
Drummer Boy whistled low. "So you're saying she'll never get tired?"
"Not unless she wants to," Nathan confirmed. "And it's not just about endurance. This material could revolutionize everything. Medicine, clean energy, space travel—you name it. Vought and Greene Technologies will own the future."
The room went quiet again, the weight of his words sinking in.
Madelyn and Stan exchanged a brief glance. Nathan didn't miss it—they were already calculating the profit margins in their heads.
Donna January, ever the opportunist, finally spoke up. "And how much is this going to cost Vought?"
Nathan waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing."
They all looked at him like he was insane.
"It's true, I'm not charging you or Vought anything. I just want to test the limits of the new reactor and also get a bit of advertising through Starlight. We'll draw up a contract later, but my only condition is that any maintenance or diagnostics go through me. No one is allowed to examine or steal my technology."
Annie swallowed, still processing everything. "So… when do we start?"
Nathan grinned. "Right now." He then turned to a drawer beside the particle accelerator, opened it and pulled out some goggles, passing them out to everyone. "Here' you'll all want to put these on for the next bit."
Annie took hers, adjusting them over her face, noticing how serious Nathan's tone had turned.
Once everyone was equipped, Nathan moved back to the control panel, fingers dancing over the interface. The humming noise of the particle accelerator intensified, a low, thrumming vibration that she could feel in her chest. It wasn't unpleasant, but it had a certain weight to it, like standing next to a waterfall.
A line of blue light flickered to life inside the loop of the accelerator, growing brighter and more concentrated. The hum increased in pitch but never quite hit the point of discomfort. The beam focused toward a prism suspended in the center of the device, refracting out and striking a triangular piece of metal held in a frame off to one side.
The piece began to glow.
At first, it was a soft, steady shimmer, but as the beam's intensity grew, it shifted into a bright, white-hot glare. The sheer brightness made Annie thankful for the goggles, and she caught glimpses of the others instinctively squinting despite the eye protection.
Nathan kept his eyes locked on the readings, monitoring every variable on the screens. After a few moments, the light peaked, nearly blinding even through the tinted goggles, and then—
Nathan flicked a switch, and the machine powered down in an instant.
The light vanished, leaving only a glowing triangular core held in the frame. The metal, now a pristine white radiating energy.
Nathan stepped forward, grabbed a pair of heavy-duty tongs, and reached into the containment unit. He plucked the glowing metal out, inspected it, and then gave it a casual blow as if he were cooling down a spoonful of soup.
Then, much to everyone's shock, he dropped it straight into his bare palm.
Annie gasped, as did several others. Donna made a strangled sound of protest, while Madelyn Stillwell stiffened, and Seth Reed nearly stumbled backward.
Nathan just smirked. "Relax. It's not actually hot, it just kind of glows like that."
He turned and strode back to Annie, holding the triangular piece between his fingers. She could see the energy pulsing within the metal like it was alive.
"This," he said, placing it into her hand, "is your new power source."
Annie turned the piece over in her palm, feeling the unnatural smoothness of it, the way it pulsed slightly with warmth as it recognized her. It wasn't like anything she had ever touched before. It wasn't just metal.
It was energy made solid.
Before she could respond, Nathan turned to a nearby workstation and picked up what looked like an advanced version of the ARC reactor he had given her before—but larger. Unlike his own, which housed a single core, this one had five slots arranged in a star formation. Four cores were already installed, shining with contained energy. The fifth slot—now empty—was clearly meant for the piece in her hand.
Nathan gave her a grin. "Had to tweak it a little to match your whole star aesthetic."
Annie smiled and carefully placed the last core inside as glass panels slid closed over it. It was beautiful.
Nathan turned back to the group, clapping his hands again. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let's go into the office and design a superhero."
Nathan leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his face, as he observed the Vought costume design team make their pitch. It was, as expected, atrocious.
The sketches displayed on the large conference room screen depicted something that barely qualified as a superhero costume. Instead, it looked more like an elaborate, high-tech swimsuit with additional armour pieces slapped on in an attempt to justify its existence. The design was gold and white like Starlight's original costume, but the amount of exposed skin was alarming. The main piece was a form-fitting bodysuit, but it had large sections cut out—especially around the chest, midriff, and thighs—giving the whole thing a disturbingly suggestive look. The addition of a plated corset, high-heeled boots, and shoulder pauldrons only made it look even more ridiculous.
Nathan suppressed the urge to sigh. Predictable.
Annie, seated across from him, looked deeply uncomfortable as she took in the designs. Her hands were clenched into fists on the table, and her expression wavered between embarrassment and frustration. Next to her, Alex—Drummer Boy—shifted uneasily, clearly just as uncomfortable with the blatant sexualization of his girlfriend.
The rest of the Young Americans barely reacted, which was telling. Either they were already desensitized to Vought's tactics, or they simply didn't care. Even Donna January, Annie's mother, didn't seem fazed by the revealing nature of the outfit. If anything, she was leaning forward in interest.
Jessica, however, was not having it.
"This is wildly inappropriate," Jessica stated flatly, arms crossed. "She's sixteen. Do you not see the problem with this?"
Evan Lambert, one of the Vought designers, frowned. "We've done market testing, and this aesthetic is highly effective for drawing in male demographics."
"Male demographics?" Jessica repeated, incredulous. "You do realize that the Young Americans are a youth-focused team, right? Your core audience is children and teenagers. And if you make her costume too revealing, you're going to alienate a large portion of your evangelical conservative base."
That actually made the Vought team hesitate.
Seth Reed, the other designer, exchanged a look with Evan. They didn't seem particularly concerned about the ethical issue, but the marketing angle clearly gave them pause.
The Legend, seated further down the table, snorted and leaned forward. "She's a kid. A goddamn kid. And you want to parade her around like a Vegas showgirl? This is why people say Vought has no shame."
Madelyn Stillwell, who had been watching the conversation unfold with mild disinterest, finally interjected. "We understand the concerns, but we also have to consider branding. Superheroes, particularly female superheroes, have to balance appeal with marketability."
"And somehow," Jessica shot back, "that always translates to 'less fabric, more skin.'"
Nathan had let the conversation play out long enough. He pulled out his smartphone and began tapping at it, activating the projector on the far wall. "A.L.A.N., pull up the final model with the spec details."
"Of course, sir." The image shifted from Vought's designs to his own—a practical, but still visually striking concept that he had been developing for Starlight's new suit.
General Issue frowned. "Who exactly is this Allan guy?"
Nathan didn't even look up as he responded, "A virtual intelligence interface."
"An AI?" The Standard asked warily.
"Not quite." Nathan shook his head. "A.L.A.N. isn't self-aware. He's just an advanced algorithm programmed to interpret commands and run system diagnostics. He's nowhere close to true artificial intelligence."
A.L.A.N.'s voice chimed in through the room speakers. "That is correct, Mr. Greene."
That startled a few people.
Nathan smirked. "He's about as self-aware as your average voice assistant—just much, much better at running my lab."
"Alright," Nathan said, standing and stepping toward the screen. "Let's take a step back and look at what we're actually trying to achieve here."
The room quieted as the attention shifted to his design. He swiped through a few initial sketches and then landed on the refined version.
The new suit was a full-body piece, maintaining Starlight's signature gold and white aesthetic but with a streamlined, futuristic look. The primary material looked a little like chainmail, but only in colour and pattern, forming a skintight undersuit from her neck down to her toes. Overlaying this was a few thin pieces of white metallic armour with gold accents that formed elegant, flowing lines rather than random decorative plating, giving it a regal yet heroic appearance. On top of this, he even included her skirt and cape as they were, giving it a bit more modesty.
There were no unnecessary cut-outs, no ridiculous high heels—just a functional, stylish superhero suit that looked powerful rather than exploitative.
Nathan turned back to the group. "The goal is something that appeals to a broad audience. It needs to be attractive, sure, but not overtly sexual. It needs to maintain her brand as a symbol of hope and virtue, not turn her into a pin-up model."
The room was silent for a beat before Seth Reed muttered, "Well, it definitely does that."
Jessica scoffed. "It's better. It actually fits the Young Americans' image."
Nathan smirked. "And before anyone asks, yes, I factored in functionality. The suit is made from a composite blend of high-resistance polymers and nanoweaves, making it lightweight but highly durable. It integrates seamlessly with the new reactor, which will be housed at the center of the chest piece, protected by reinforced plating. There's also built-in conductivity optimization to ensure Annie can channel her energy efficiently."
Holy Mary leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Wait, it's designed to enhance her abilities?"
Nathan nodded. "Exactly. The fabric is laced with conductive threads that can direct channel energy from the reactor onto her skin, allowing her to absorb as much of it as possible without taking in anything from around her which tends to damage electronics."
Evan Lambert frowned slightly. "Most heroes don't wear this much coverage."
Nathan shrugged. "As much skin coverage as possible is a good thing here. It allows her to absorb more energy from the reactor and prevents collateral property damage at the same time. It should also keep her from blinding people around her when she absorbs energy. She'll still probably blind anyone she blasts directly, but the light show from gathering energy should decrease a lot. It helps that she doesn't need repulsors to fly, as that lets me keep the material form fitting."
Madelyn Stillwell finally spoke up again. "Alright, Mr. Greene. Let's say we approve this design—what's the timeline for production?"
Nathan crossed his arms. "I can have a prototype ready within a week. Final adjustments will depend on how well it integrates with Starlight's abilities, but we'll have something ready for testing almost immediately."
Stillwell exchanged a glance with Stan Edgar. After a moment, Stan gave a slight nod.
"Fine," Madelyn said. "We'll proceed with your design."
Jessica smirked in victory, and Annie let out a visible breath of relief.
Greene Industries, Detroit
November 18, 2013
The sun was just beginning to crest over the city skyline as Marcus Hayes pulled into the employee parking lot at the Greene Industries Aerospace Division in Detroit. He parked his well-worn sedan in his usual spot, cut the engine, and stretched his arms before stepping out. The air was crisp, tinged with the faint smell of ozone, but the morning chill was quickly fading under the growing warmth of the sun.
As he walked toward the entrance, he exchanged nods and greetings with a few familiar faces.
"Morning, Marcus," called out Dave, a maintenance tech adjusting his coveralls.
"Morning, Dave. Long night?" Marcus asked.
"Same as always," Dave chuckled. "At least the coffee's hot."
Marcus grinned and continued inside. He moved through the steel-and-glass corridors, through the security checkpoint, and into the employee changing room. He found his locker, spun the dial on the combination lock, and swapped out his street clothes for his standard Greene Industries coveralls—a dark blue suit with the company's signature "G" logo embroidered over the chest.
He adjusted the sleeves, grabbed his helmet, and then made his way out toward the launch pad.
The pad was massive, an open-air structure connected to a towering hangar that housed the shuttle.
Marcus spotted his team already gathered near the base of the ramp, chatting amongst themselves.
"Hayes, you're cutting it close," said a deep voice. Their team foreman, Carter Reynolds, stood at the front of the group, a clipboard in hand.
Marcus grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Carter smirked but didn't push further. Instead, he ran through the roster, calling out each name. Everyone was accounted for.
"Alright, you know the drill," Carter said, tucking the clipboard under his arm. "Standard rotation. We've got a new module to install, we make sure everything's running smoothly, and then we come back down."
Marcus shared a look with his fellow technicians. "Routine" was a funny way of describing orbital construction, but hey he wasn't complaining. The pay was good, and being able to say you worked in space was still impressive.
With a wave of Carter's hand, the crew marched up the boarding ramp into the waiting shuttle. Inside, they took their designated seats, strapping in as the onboard systems whirred to life.
Marcus tightened his harness and exhaled, listening to the familiar hum of the engines powering up. Through the small window beside him, he could see the sky turning a brilliant shade of blue as the launch countdown began.
"All systems green," the pilot called out over comms.
The countdown reached zero.
The shuttle shot forward at an upward angle as the engines hummed to life, pressing Marcus back into his seat. The vehicle shot upward, piercing the sky, leaving the city behind as it rocketed toward the upper atmosphere.
"Here we go again," he muttered, feeling the familiar rush of excitement.
Marcus Hayes felt the familiar transition to microgravity. The pressure against his chest from liftoff faded, and he experienced the odd sensation of weightlessness. Out of his window, the bright blue sky faded into the endless black of space, stars twinkling like distant pinpricks of light.
And then, there it was—the Greene Industries Space Station.
Marcus had been up here a dozen times before, but the sight of it still took his breath away. It was massive, a testament to human ingenuity and engineering. A series of gigantic rings, each larger than a football stadium, spun around a central axis, creating artificial gravity through centripetal force. The outer sections gleamed in the sunlight, panels of composite alloys catching the light in a dazzling display. Between the rings, intricate scaffolding, docking bays, and construction arms extended outward, giving the entire station the look of something out of a space opera.
He had heard about the other space stations being built— China, Russia, the U.K., and even Brazil had gotten in on the new space race. But Marcus knew, without a doubt, that this was the best. Greene Industries had access to the most advanced technology on the planet, and its partnership with NASA had only strengthened its position as the leader in commercial space operations.
"Welcome to Greene Industries Station," the pilot's voice came over the comms. "Prepare for docking."
The shuttle made its slow approach toward the station's central axis, where docking procedures were safest in microgravity. Marcus and the rest of the team braced themselves as the ship made contact, a dull thud reverberating through the cabin. The pilot confirmed a successful seal, and within moments, the airlock began its pressurization cycle.
Carter unbuckled first. "Alright, everyone, be careful with your movements. Let's not have any rookies slamming into the walls again."
A few chuckles went around, but everyone took the warning seriously. Moving in zero gravity required a certain finesse. The team unstrapped from their seats and maneuvered toward the airlock, using the handrails strategically placed along the shuttle walls.
Once through the airlock, they floated down a connecting corridor toward the entrance to one of the station's massive rotating rings. It was a disorienting transition. One moment, they were weightless; the next, they were slowly pulled downward as the artificial gravity from the spinning ring took effect.
Marcus grabbed one of the ladders along the corridor wall, using it to adjust his orientation as the not-gravity asserted itself. By the time they climbed down into the next section, it was as if they had never left Earth.
The first stop was decontamination. The team split up by gender and entered specialized chambers where they removed and stowed their coveralls. A fine mist sprayed down over them, cleansing any potential contaminants from their bodies. Once finished, they moved into the dressing area, where their official work uniforms were stored.
Marcus pulled his out of his locker and couldn't help but think it looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. The form-fitting bodysuit was reinforced with layers of synthetic materials that provided insulation and some radiation protection. More importantly, it doubled as an emergency suit in case their outer spacewalk gear failed.
Once suited up, they moved into the staging area, where their outer exo-suits were stored. Unlike traditional bulky space suits, these were more streamlined, and designed for precision work rather than just survival. As the team began suiting up, Carter gathered them for a final briefing.
"Alright, here's the job," he started. "We're installing a new materials lab for the Mars probe samples. This means structural assembly, panel installation, and system integration. Marcus, you'll be handling the rivets."
Marcus nodded. He had spent years as a welder before joining the space construction crew, but welding in zero-G was a disaster waiting to happen. Without gravity, molten metal had a nasty habit of floating around, and nobody wanted to deal with a rogue glob of liquid metal melting into essential equipment or people. Riveting, on the other hand, was safe, effective, and—most importantly—didn't melt through space suits.
"Got it, boss," Marcus said, securing his helmet and running final checks on his suit.
Carter continued. "Standard protocol: stay within comms range, tether yourselves at all times, and if something feels off, report it immediately. We're professionals, so let's act like it. Now, let's get to work."
The team nodded in unison before making their way toward the airlock. As Marcus clipped his tether to the safety rail, he took one last look at the massive structure surrounding him.
He was about to step out into space again. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.