2013.07.26 - Meanwhile, At The SHIELD Proving Grounds...

The airfield at Lakehurst has been cleared and the flight pennons snap in the light breeze. One of the outlying airstrips has been cleared of traffic, in favour of the SHIELD-led flight tests scheduled for the day.
Several researchers stand about, around folding tables with laptops and monitoring systems set upon them. They're performing last minute systems checks.
The focus of all this activity, however, is on the airstrip itself, where SHIELD's head of R&D stands suited up in a form-fitting, armoured flight suit specially designed for the apparatus that stands in an upright cradle several feet away. It's an armoured, lightweight jetwing harness designed to carry one person and deploy much like a jetpack. The Canadian Major is both its designer and its test pilot.
"How's that intake," she calls out to one of the techs, even as she fastens the collar of her exosuit. The last time she tried this test, the right engine failed because of a faulty intake valve. She'd sooner that not happen again. Death spirals aren't fun. (Well, they can be... when you come out alive, as she discovered. But, still. Too much of a good thing?) They did stabilize that problem, but she double checks, nonetheless.
Three things Tony Stark can never resist: Alcohol, Women, and Field Tests.
To quote Meatloaf, "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad."
That is NOT what is blaring over the speakers in his Bugatti Veyron. What is pounding out of those speakers is good old English heavy metal - Iron Maiden specifically. Blowing past no less than three SHIELD security checkpoints at roughly 188 MPH, and isn't even in its highest gear. He makes it to the airfield just as their security is alerted to the high speed intruder, and by the times the weapons are drawn and the driver is ordered to "STOP! STOP OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!"(tm) - The black and red car screeches and does a 180 degree turn parking itself perfectly 50 feet away from where the testing equipment and engineers are gathered.
Stepping out of the car as if it wasn't a big thing, he is dressed in a charcoal grey hand tailored silk suit, blue shirt with matching grey/blue tie and pocket square, and a pair of silver aviators. Reaching into the suit jacket, he pulls out several cards: SHIELD credentials. He whips off his sunglasses, smiling. "Relax, guys -- I'm with the band."
There is a great deal of eyerolling as the weapons are lowered.
As the scramble is made due to the speeding car, Lindstrom spins around to try to lay hands on a weapon, herself. But, for this test, she's not carrying her usual sidearm. Which means, by the time the car spins into park and the billionaire steps out, she's just a little piqued -- both with the situation and the fact she's still empty handed.
Nevertheless, as Tony Stark's identity is verified (needlessly, once the recklessness of the entry is assessed, really), the order is given to stand down. The blonde, her hair pulled back tightly to accommodate the helmet set beside the flying machine, shakes her head lightly. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Stark," she says dryly. "I trust you weren't unduly impeded by our security personnel on your way in..."
Tony Stark tucks the sunglasses away with the credentials and smiles that gigawatt smile he has, "Miss Lindstrom, glad I wasn't late for the festivities. No, the security details in place operated in a manner exactly as expected with a government agency. Sorry I wasn't hear earlier, traffic was killer." he makes his way towards the scientists and testing equipment, his eyes already taking in the flight suit (and the woman in it) looking the tech employed over.
"Major," Lindstrom corrects the man, a professional smile on her lips, though her cool blue eyes probably contain the same tightness Rhodey gets when he's trying to convince Stark to play by the rules. "Or Doctor. Agent, if you prefer. At least, while I'm on duty, if you please."
"Intake looks good," a tech tells her, coming to stand nearby. "We're green across the board. Ready whenever you are, doc." Okay. Apparently there are exceptions to be made.
"Thanks, Dex." Lindstrom turns to her little fixed wing jet-pack and moves to pick up her helmet. "I don't know if you saw the early schematics for this or not, Mr. Stark," she says presently, turning back toward the industrialist. "We've more or less stabilized the flight dynamics. Today is all about testing maneuverability and payload. I'm hoping, if you're willing, you might be able to suggest a few design improvements. Our goal is to create a single-pilot aerial deployment vehicle that can be used for under-the-radar operations in hostile territory. It's not your armour, by any stretch. Nor is it intended to be, but we're hoping it'll do in a pinch."
Tony Stark inclines his head, "My apologies, Major Doctor Agent Lindstrom." he says without a bit of sarcasm or irony, "I was just distracted. Your eyes, you see. I'm a sucker for eyes like that." he says, that grin turning into a disarming smile. "I promise I won't make the same mistake again." he says a note of sincerity in his voice.
After a moment, he clears his throat, "So yeah, I did give some input on the design but I didn't want to take away from the initial concept. It's rude to steal someonelse's thunder. I offered a few considerations on flight control surfaces and the like. Make it a little easier to maneuver, especially if used in tight spaces." he says, looking the suit over himself. He glances at the terminals briefly, and then snags a tool off the table and adjusts some things. "I'm adjusting the fuel mix valves. Optimizing the oxygen-fuel a little more." he explains, "It's not a bad concept. Nice if you need to drop in somewhere and need something more than a parachute. I like it, personally. We live in the future. We should have jetpacks."
And, Lindstrom's no fool. Nor, despite her own achievements, is she so proud that she'll not heed useful suggestions. She's smart enough to keep up with Stark, and almost as skilled as he -- though not quite. He's certainly got the edge. Thus, where feedback came back, she incorporated it. So, it's not a bad little apparatus.
She ignores his comments about her eyes, aside from a faint smile and cool blink, and nods to his comment about the fuel mix. "I've an idea or two to completely switch over the fuel matrix to something a little more versatile," Read: futuristically cool, "but I figure I'll save it for Mark II."
And, she even chuckles at his comment about jet-packs. She agrees. Entirely. "I thought so," is her response to that. There's a reason she insisted on being her own test pilot, after all.
She watches over his shoulder at the mix he creates and eyes a tech to ensure that they're paying attention to it, too. After that, she steps back a foot or two. "So, if it looks good to you, it looks good to me. I think it's time to get it airborne."
Tony Stark steps back and nods, "Looks good to me, Major." he says, "Maybe we can start talking about the Mark II when you get back." - sounding all business. Well, mostly business. It's impossible to get him to sound all business unless he's in a boardroom or the armor. "In the meantime, let's see what this can do. Good flying. The skies are yours." he smiles again.
Lindstrom gives Stark a genuine smile now -- the kind only pilots can muster up. Thumbs up, and she pulls the helmet down over her head, and strides for the flight pack. As she goes, she can be heard calling out for a HUD check of the helmet's display system. After that, it's short work to get strapped in and prepped for take-off.
At the control stations, activity increases as the pre-flight check is given and received. Green lights across the board and the woman is good to go. The jets spool up and ignite, and the cradle releases.
She's airborne.
The HUD cam that monitors her vitals and displays on one of the laptops, and her blue eyes can be seen gleaming. Her first few moments aloft are an easy loop to ensure everything's in working order.
"Looks good from here," she says finally to the monitoring stations. "Time for the air show."
Tony Stark finds his space. About five feet back from the table - it lets him take in all the displays simultaneously. Having experience as Iron Man, doing this with an all inclusive interface this approach is almost quaint. He makes a motion towards one of the techs, who hastily hands him one of the earpieces so he can listen to the chatter and communicate if need be. For now he's silent, letting the techs and pilots do their thing. Unless there's an emergency, his commentary might throw her off and that's never good. He takes a tense, slow inhalation of breath. It's always the first five minutes. Those are the most tense.
And Lindstrom knows it. Her hands on the controls are loose and comfortable, her body as relaxed in the cradle as the flight dynamics will allow. The suit has protective hard points and sculpted wind guards that help direct the airflow.
"Increasing altitude to 3500 feet," she says. It's a calculated risk, that height -- the hope being that if she has to jettison the wing pack, she'll still be within the safe zone to deploy a parachute. The plan, however, is not to require that contingency.
Tony Stark is listening. Watching both the sky and the displays. He takes the minute or so to leave the table, go back to the car and grab something out of the backseat. It looks like a briefcase, only red and silver and pretty high tech for Samsonite. He goes back to the monitoring center and sits it down next to him. Hopefully she won't need the parachute, but if she does, he's got her back as a fail safe. Now he does speak to her, but his tone is quiet. Low, and soothing, "What's your max ceiling and range, Major?" he asks, curious. He know what the flight controls he submitted with the design are good for but doesn't know what the final determination was.
"About 10,000 feet," Lindstrom tells him, now, not terribly surprised to hear his voice. After all, there's a reason he was invited, and it wasn't really just to sit on the sidelines and gawk. Everyone knows that's not his style. "It's designed to handle airborne paratrooper deployment. Today, though, is about maneuverability."
She smiles, and spares a half-second glance right up at the helmet's central camera -- how that doesn't make her go cross-eyed is a wonder. "Care to come along?" She imagines his suit isn't far behind. "I'm off to the obstacle course."
Which, as the fight path on one of the monitors indicates, is a collection of low buildings, walls, and other such things clustered at the far end of the airfield. Yes, they're substantially lower in height than the cruising altitude she currently enjoys -- resembling an urban environment in layout and design. But, that's all part of the test.
Indeed, the most dangerous part of it will be that the height is below parachute deployment range. So, if something goes wrong?
Not pretty, unless those fail safes installed kick in.
Tony Stark nods, smiling. "Those surfaces are rated for commercial jet cruising altitude, up to forty-five thousand feet, so you should be ok there." he looks down at the suitcase, sorely tempted. "Major, I'd love to join you but this is your day and it's your champagne bottle to pop when you get back. I'm not going to steal your thunder - at least not right now. But if you get in trouble up there, I can be in the air in less than twenty seconds. Go hit that obstacle course."
"Nice to have a hero standing by," the Major replies, a chuckle in her voice. Perhaps she's not quite as uptight as her greeting might have implied. Or she's just acutely aware that if she buys the farm it'll look worse on her than it will for SHIELD. The Canadian's got some pride, after all. "Thanks."
"Transitioning to 1000 feet," she says to flight control, now. She descends smoothly and levels out, approaching the course for a quick fly over. "Still looks good from here," she notes. "Okay. Transitioning to engagement altitude. Time to rock the casbah..."
"You're go to engage, Major," one of the techs replies. "Good hunting."
Tony Stark watches, his posture a little tense. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, with a hand resting on his chin. By now the suit jacket is hanging on the back of a chair and his sleeves are rolled up. He's biting his lip a little nervously, eager to see how the pack performs. When it's him, he doesn't have time to be anything but cocky and confident. When it's someone else, and he's watching, it's a different story entirely.
Lindstrom circles around and approaches the start of the obstacle course. It's set up to guide her through a series of coridors, hoops, and embankments -- some of which, it turns out, are defended by what are effectively laser tag turrets meant to simulate hostile ground fire.
The woman actually does have her work cut out for her. And while she's a good pilot, she doesn't have Iron Man's experience in fullbody flight. Despite the number of simulations she's flown, this test is something of a new experience for her.
She twists her body, the physical distribution of weight as important to the steering of the thing as anything her hands might do on the main controls, and banks down to skim between two of the buildings, crossing through a laser net that's there solely to act as a checkpoint marker.
"Checkpoint one achieved," the monitoring tech says aloud. Off-com, to one of the other techs, he says calmly, "Deploy countermeasures."
Which means the laser tag turrets go live.
Tony Stark watches and notices the physical distribution of weight and clears his throat. "I know you've been through a ton of simulations for this, but I'll give you a pro tip: Be careful on your tight maneuvers - your inertia is going to constantly change because you're burning fuel up there. Keep it in mind if you decide to go all Blue Angels on us, okay?" -- it's meant to be a serious tip. It's something Tony has had to consider, but never deal with due to the nature of his technology. He continues to watch the monitors as he goes quiet again, not wanting to distract her.
"Copy that," Lindstrom replies. Her display lights up as the electronic 'muzzle flashes' of the laser turrets send up a simulated tracer arc. It's visible to the electronics, though not to the naked eye. Instinctively, she pulls left to avoid it... and barrel rolls a full 360 -- though that wasn't what she planned. Thus, she yelps. "Yep," she says, compensating with both controls and body, skimming just under the line of fire, "see what you mean..."
The med techs monitoring her physical systems can detect the increase in her heart rate and adrenaline production. That's no surprise. And not yet out of the acceptable range.
"Remind me to adjust the simulation," she notes. Then, "Fire in the hole." She lifts up over a low building to fire her wing guns at a turret nest.
Tony Stark smiles and nods, as she learns what he's talking about. He glances to the med techs, then the flight techs. He watches her get into the meat of the obstacle course. He's curious how to maneuvers. Moreover, he's curious how he can help improve it. "Go get 'em." he says, under his breath maybe briefly forgetting he can be heard.
As Lindstrom continues through the maze, it becomes apparent that the greatest challenge lays, really, in that imbalance the fuel system creates. Even as she flies, the pilot makes a mental note to bump the research into alternative energy sources higher in her list. Because the imbalance, while not horrible, definitely hampers the maneuverability. There are probably some adjustments to be made to the wing design and body rig, as well, all things considered.
By the time she exits the testing ground, moving at speed, she's probably managed to clear about 85-90% of the turret nests -- some more by luck than by skill, though she's hit every checkpoint. And, for a first run through, that's not bad.
Increasing her altitude to make turning back toward the landing zone easier, she's a little breathless over the radio. "Well, that was fun... Still got some work to do, though..."
Tony Stark chuckles over the intercom slightly, "It's thirsty work, piloting one of those." he points out, knowing how his first forays in armor went. "I got some ideas. We really need to find you a non depleting energy source, and maybe some modifications to the wing configurations. Maybe work in an adaptive sweeping mechanism at higher altitudes." he comments over the comm, looking up now to see if she can be seen as she comes back.
The speck that is Lindstrom grows closer, sweeping low over the runway now, toward the landing zone. She applies the braking mechanisms, her harness configuration changing some as she comes in for a landing that, frankly, includes a lot of running -- just like a parachute drop. Gonna need to work on a VTOL system, too, likely. But for a prototype? It's okay.
She chuckles in response, voice still over the radio. "It is!" she agrees. "I think we need to adjust the suit, too."
As she finally comes to a panting stop, a few meters along the runway from where the control station is set up, she loosens the harness further and lets the airwing slide to the ground. Looking over toward Stark and the techs congratulating themselves as the landing crew moves in to collect the prototype and ensure she's alright, she loosens her helmet and smiles. "The flight pack materials may be rated to 45,000," she notes, striding over toward him, now, "but the flight suit won't necessarily withstand that. I think I need to revisit most everything, frankly."
Tony Stark watches the techs shake hands and congratulate themselves upon her lading, but almost immediately turns his attention to her. "Congratulations," he says, voice warm. "Nice piece of work up there." is his greeting, "So yeah, now that you've been there and done that you want to change everything, but there isn't so much work there. The changes will be easy enough to make, I imagine." he says, smiling.
Lindstrom pulls the helmet off entirely, her tightly bound hair only a little mussed by the action. "Thanks," she smiles to him, glancing to the side a moment later and tossing the helmet to one of the flight crew. "Gotta say, even with the challenges, that was a helluva lot of fun."
She chuckles now. "I expect it's a rougher ride than yours." But a wee bit cheaper, too. Though, it depends on the stage, one might suppose.
She gives the rig a critical once over with a practiced eye. "I'd love to talk about energy sources, yeah," she agrees. "And I'm thinking sweep mechanism on the wings would be good, too." Her nose wrinkles some. "What do you think about repulsor technology to replace the turbines?" she asks, head canting. "I know you have ton of experience with that. What's the power to weight ratio? Not to mention what it'll mean for the flight suit."
And there's the cost to consider. Some things she just can't use, because her development budget can only be stretched so far.
Tony Stark grins, "I like the idea of converting the main engines to repulsors. It'll mean some design changes, because you won't need as much of a profile. I can design an aerilon array for flight control. Not sure what that would mean for the controls, though. We can sort through that though. Once you get into repulsors, power to weight doesn't matter so much because it's nearly equal. You yourself will actually make up most of the weight at that point. It should be almost equal." he points out.
Lindstrom nods slowly to that. "Makes sense," she agrees. She's not trying to recreate his armour, by any means. But, she does want something fairly versatile that can fly in under the radar and provide for quick deployment or extraction as necessary.
She smiles to him, now. "I have to say, I am glad you were able to come out for this."
Tony Stark smiles broadly, "I'm glad I was able to be here for it. I think we can make a go of it, if we work together on it. I wouldn't want to steal your thunder. I'm a R and D guy myself, but maybe we can collaborate?" he offers.
"I'd love to," Lindstrom confirms. Besides, the Boss would expect it, after this, though she doesn't say it. She extends a hand to him. "In fact, I'd appreciate any help you're willing to give at all, Mr. Stark."
Tony Stark waves a hand, "At worst, we're colleagues. Call me Tony." he says plainly after being called Mister. "What do you say then, dinner tonight and discussing how to improve on a good design already?" he asks, no smarm at all in it.
"Kristin," Lindstrom replies in kind. He's right. They're effectively colleagues, now. She eyes him a moment and considers it. She knows his reputation, after all. However, she's also a lot more relaxed, now that the test is done, and since he's not laying it on too thick, she nods. "Sounds like a great plan," she smiles. "Dinner it is."
Ignore the sidelong looks between the techs. What do they know?
Tony Stark does likewise, because techs. "Fantastic. Pick you up at eight - you like Italain?" he asks, curious.
Kirstin nods. "Italian's great." She smiles. "I'll forward you an address." Because, really, she's not having him pick her up on the Helicarrier.
Tony Stark smiles, "Sounds good." -- just then, his phone rings. Popping the earpiece out, he answers. "Yes Pepper. I know. I was at the field test for SHIELD. Yeah, trying saying that three times fast." he listens a few minutes, "Yeah, I can do that. It'll be about an hour for me to get back. Maybe hour and a half. Look, I'm not going to put it off. Meeting with Hammer about the expo is like eating brussel sprouts. I just wanna get it over with and forget it happened. Right. Okay." he hangs up and looks, "Okay, I gotta go back to work and deal with brussel sprouts." he says, "I'll pick you up at eight, though." he says, smiling.
Kristin suppresses the chuckle at 'brussle sprouts', though her blue eyes dance. Yeah. She knows how that goes. As he hangs up, she nods. "See you then."
And until then, it's back to work for her, too. Time to haul that rig back home.
Category:Log