Fic: Vertical Space 4: Bust
TITLE: Vertical Space 4: Bust
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation/Iron Man
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis
“Power levels at 85%.”
Tony grinned inside his helmet, eyes on the sky while simultaneously checking the read-outs of the Heads-Up-Display. The HUD gave him height, speed, temperature, wind direction, also scanning for objects in the area.
“Power at 75%, sir,” Jarvis informed him.
The rapid decline was one flaw in the armor-arc reactor interface. Tony had spent weeks slaving over the conversion rate, trying to find out where the energy was used up most, and it all came down to the shields and the thrusters. But he needed the shields and he needed thrust.
So he needed a better reactor.
“Power at 68%.”
The moment he dropped to fifty percent he knew he wasn’t able to use any kind of heavy weaponry that drew additionally on the power source. That meant he was defenseless while flying this high.
Not good.
“You have reached eighty thousand feet, sir.”
Tony grinned wildly. Euphoria raced through him. He had reached the height of a SR-71 Blackbird.
A red warning sign started to flash.
“Severe power depletion. You are at 43%,” Jarvis translated the warning.
“I’m still fine,” he insisted, still going up.
The edge of the Stratosphere was his aim. 160,000 feet. He could do this. He could. He would…
More alarms flashed. His suit was suddenly dropping below 28 % and fast.
“Hell!” he hissed.
He had been so far. Just a little bit more. Just… a… little…
And then his thrusters sputtered, the alarms shrill and unmistakable now.
“No! Damnit!”
The descent was fast, more of a fall and plunge, but Tony managed to regain control halfway back to the ground. The armor seemed to glare at him, the warnings still there at the edge of his vision, a reminder of his failure. The arc reactor wasn’t strong enough. Never strong enough.
Tony used the repulsors to keep himself on an even keel and finally landed. It was a little less graceful than usual and the hard landing rattled his teeth. Well, it actually had him bouncing head over heels and laying a deep groove into the ground until he slammed into a boulder and came to a stop. At least he hadn’t crashed through the roof of his home this time, which was a good thing. He had managed to land next to the helicopter landing pad and then ended up halfway toward the driveway.
Damn, this’ll bruise!
The gentle vibrations he felt through the heavy boots alerted him to the approach of his guardian. Hot Rod’s optics glowed softly in the darkness, the silver and black body barely reflecting the light.
“Don’t say it!” Tony snapped.
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
He pulled the helmet off, the night breeze tousling his hair. According to the last display of the HUD the arc reactor was recharging, but it would need a while.
“The results were better than last time,” Hot Rod finally said.
“I told you not to say anything!”
“I was going to say you’re an idiot and a reckless adrenaline junky,” the mech told him, sounding way too amused for Tony’s liking. “But I didn’t.”
“Well, good for you!”
Tony stomped past the much taller figure, heading for the entrance to the workshop and garage. Hot Rod followed. The mech transformed as he rolled down the ramp. Tony walked over to where Jarvis was already waiting to help him get out of the armor.
“Had a good flight, sir?” the AI asked.
“And you can just stuff it as well, Jarvis,” he ground out.
“Very well, sir.”
Somehow the failure grated on him. He had been so sure. The numbers had been right! The equations had been perfect! The simulations… had just been simulations and the practical test had been crappy and a failure. Tony tore his hands out of the gauntlets, angry and disappointed. When he was finally free of the suit he padded over to the work station, still in the black undergarment, and called up the tech specs.
Everything looked perfect.
It worked like shit.
Tony sank into his chair and dropped his head back against the head rest. His thoughts churned. The arc reactor alone wasn’t working. He needed more power, a kind of back-up unit that was safe from possible outside damage through energy blasts and bullets. More weight, heavier shields…
Vicious circle. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he entered new commands.
“Tony.”
He ignored the mech and kept on altering some variables
“Tony, please.”
“Shut up.”
“I’d advise you to sleep first. You’re exhausted.”
Tony whirled around in his chair and glared at the car. “What gives you the authority to scan me?!” he demanded.
“I didn’t. I don’t have to.”
“Jarvis!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you relaying internal sensor data to Hot Rod?”
“Yes, sir,” came the neutral reply.
Tony felt his anger boil. First the failure in his suit and now his own creation was betraying him!
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because we worry about you, sir.”
“What?!”
“Lack of proper sleep leads to loss of concentration which in turn leads to mistakes made where you normally wouldn’t make any,” Jarvis replied. “You are exhausted.”
Jarvis worried? When had he programmed him to worry? And when had the AI started to talk to their guest?
“You are being stubborn,” Hot Rod stated.
“He usually is,” Jarvis commented dryly.
“Shut up! Both of you! I don’t need baby-sitters!”
“I beg to differ. Sir.”
Tony felt a headache coming. “This is what I get for creating an advanced computer system.”
“You’re getting friends,” Hot Rod said, rolling closer. “And the armor can wait. Let Jarvis run the diagnostics. Get some sleep, Tony. You can do the next test flight the moment the errors have been solved.”
Tony ran a hand through his tousled hair. Errors. Right. The errors were the power and how much the armor used up of it. He fingered the arc reactor resting prominently on his chest. It didn’t feel warm. There was never any warmth. His finger tips traced every ridge and he still mulled over how to make it more efficient. The reactor and the suit.
“There were no errors,” he finally said, voice low. “It just won’t work.”
“You’re giving up?” Hot Rod sounded surprised.
Tony chuckled darkly. “Not so novel. But no, I’m not giving up. I just need a different take on it.”
He got up and walked over to where Jarvis had reassembled the suit and had it hanging down from the supports. Cables were trailing out of the power sockets. Tony ran a caress over the smooth metal.
Then he suddenly turned on his heels and walked out the workshop, up the stairs, and was gone.
Hot Rod sat in bemused silence. Finally,
“Jarvis?”
“Yes?”
“Where did he go?”
“You could use your access to the sensor net,” the AI replied instead of answering the question.
Hot Rod chuckled. “I could. I just didn’t. So, where is he?”
“You want me to spy on him,” Jarvis told him, sounding slightly piqued. “And Mr. Stark is currently heading for the shower. I believe he will take your advice and sleep afterwards.”
“You think?”
“Yes. I’ve known him a bit longer than you.”
“Which is good,” the mech agreed. “He can be very aggravating and stubborn.”
“You have no idea,” came the long-suffering sigh.
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation/Iron Man
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis
“Power levels at 85%.”
Tony grinned inside his helmet, eyes on the sky while simultaneously checking the read-outs of the Heads-Up-Display. The HUD gave him height, speed, temperature, wind direction, also scanning for objects in the area.
“Power at 75%, sir,” Jarvis informed him.
The rapid decline was one flaw in the armor-arc reactor interface. Tony had spent weeks slaving over the conversion rate, trying to find out where the energy was used up most, and it all came down to the shields and the thrusters. But he needed the shields and he needed thrust.
So he needed a better reactor.
“Power at 68%.”
The moment he dropped to fifty percent he knew he wasn’t able to use any kind of heavy weaponry that drew additionally on the power source. That meant he was defenseless while flying this high.
Not good.
“You have reached eighty thousand feet, sir.”
Tony grinned wildly. Euphoria raced through him. He had reached the height of a SR-71 Blackbird.
A red warning sign started to flash.
“Severe power depletion. You are at 43%,” Jarvis translated the warning.
“I’m still fine,” he insisted, still going up.
The edge of the Stratosphere was his aim. 160,000 feet. He could do this. He could. He would…
More alarms flashed. His suit was suddenly dropping below 28 % and fast.
“Hell!” he hissed.
He had been so far. Just a little bit more. Just… a… little…
And then his thrusters sputtered, the alarms shrill and unmistakable now.
“No! Damnit!”
The descent was fast, more of a fall and plunge, but Tony managed to regain control halfway back to the ground. The armor seemed to glare at him, the warnings still there at the edge of his vision, a reminder of his failure. The arc reactor wasn’t strong enough. Never strong enough.
Tony used the repulsors to keep himself on an even keel and finally landed. It was a little less graceful than usual and the hard landing rattled his teeth. Well, it actually had him bouncing head over heels and laying a deep groove into the ground until he slammed into a boulder and came to a stop. At least he hadn’t crashed through the roof of his home this time, which was a good thing. He had managed to land next to the helicopter landing pad and then ended up halfway toward the driveway.
Damn, this’ll bruise!
The gentle vibrations he felt through the heavy boots alerted him to the approach of his guardian. Hot Rod’s optics glowed softly in the darkness, the silver and black body barely reflecting the light.
“Don’t say it!” Tony snapped.
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
He pulled the helmet off, the night breeze tousling his hair. According to the last display of the HUD the arc reactor was recharging, but it would need a while.
“The results were better than last time,” Hot Rod finally said.
“I told you not to say anything!”
“I was going to say you’re an idiot and a reckless adrenaline junky,” the mech told him, sounding way too amused for Tony’s liking. “But I didn’t.”
“Well, good for you!”
Tony stomped past the much taller figure, heading for the entrance to the workshop and garage. Hot Rod followed. The mech transformed as he rolled down the ramp. Tony walked over to where Jarvis was already waiting to help him get out of the armor.
“Had a good flight, sir?” the AI asked.
“And you can just stuff it as well, Jarvis,” he ground out.
“Very well, sir.”
Somehow the failure grated on him. He had been so sure. The numbers had been right! The equations had been perfect! The simulations… had just been simulations and the practical test had been crappy and a failure. Tony tore his hands out of the gauntlets, angry and disappointed. When he was finally free of the suit he padded over to the work station, still in the black undergarment, and called up the tech specs.
Everything looked perfect.
It worked like shit.
Tony sank into his chair and dropped his head back against the head rest. His thoughts churned. The arc reactor alone wasn’t working. He needed more power, a kind of back-up unit that was safe from possible outside damage through energy blasts and bullets. More weight, heavier shields…
Vicious circle. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he entered new commands.
“Tony.”
He ignored the mech and kept on altering some variables
“Tony, please.”
“Shut up.”
“I’d advise you to sleep first. You’re exhausted.”
Tony whirled around in his chair and glared at the car. “What gives you the authority to scan me?!” he demanded.
“I didn’t. I don’t have to.”
“Jarvis!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you relaying internal sensor data to Hot Rod?”
“Yes, sir,” came the neutral reply.
Tony felt his anger boil. First the failure in his suit and now his own creation was betraying him!
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because we worry about you, sir.”
“What?!”
“Lack of proper sleep leads to loss of concentration which in turn leads to mistakes made where you normally wouldn’t make any,” Jarvis replied. “You are exhausted.”
Jarvis worried? When had he programmed him to worry? And when had the AI started to talk to their guest?
“You are being stubborn,” Hot Rod stated.
“He usually is,” Jarvis commented dryly.
“Shut up! Both of you! I don’t need baby-sitters!”
“I beg to differ. Sir.”
Tony felt a headache coming. “This is what I get for creating an advanced computer system.”
“You’re getting friends,” Hot Rod said, rolling closer. “And the armor can wait. Let Jarvis run the diagnostics. Get some sleep, Tony. You can do the next test flight the moment the errors have been solved.”
Tony ran a hand through his tousled hair. Errors. Right. The errors were the power and how much the armor used up of it. He fingered the arc reactor resting prominently on his chest. It didn’t feel warm. There was never any warmth. His finger tips traced every ridge and he still mulled over how to make it more efficient. The reactor and the suit.
“There were no errors,” he finally said, voice low. “It just won’t work.”
“You’re giving up?” Hot Rod sounded surprised.
Tony chuckled darkly. “Not so novel. But no, I’m not giving up. I just need a different take on it.”
He got up and walked over to where Jarvis had reassembled the suit and had it hanging down from the supports. Cables were trailing out of the power sockets. Tony ran a caress over the smooth metal.
Then he suddenly turned on his heels and walked out the workshop, up the stairs, and was gone.
Hot Rod sat in bemused silence. Finally,
“Jarvis?”
“Yes?”
“Where did he go?”
“You could use your access to the sensor net,” the AI replied instead of answering the question.
Hot Rod chuckled. “I could. I just didn’t. So, where is he?”
“You want me to spy on him,” Jarvis told him, sounding slightly piqued. “And Mr. Stark is currently heading for the shower. I believe he will take your advice and sleep afterwards.”
“You think?”
“Yes. I’ve known him a bit longer than you.”
“Which is good,” the mech agreed. “He can be very aggravating and stubborn.”
“You have no idea,” came the long-suffering sigh.