A/N: Guest, with respect, that's a little presumptuous of you. I wrote that chapter. I think I know best what I was trying to convey. And to everyone else, thank you for weighing in. It's always interesting to hear how other people view these characters. But you must know that although I find your takes on the ships and characters helpful, I will always disregard them in favour of whatever I feel fits my narrative. Hopefully that should stop anyone harbouring notions of influencing this fic by convincing me of the logic behind their personal opinions. *****************************************************************************************************************************
Ferris Aircraft Test Facility, Nevada
Hal Jordan stood in his flight suit, admiring the sleek gunmetal grey jet a few hundred metres away. He was about to take it on a test flight. It was a beautiful day for flying. Clear blue skies, the sun hidden just behind a few clouds.
Glorious. He dropped the cigarette butt and crushed it under his boot heel. Jet fuel was a hundred thousand million billion times more volatile than other types.
"I thought you quit."
He turned in the direction of the voice. Carol Ferris. She looked as breathtaking as always. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, which meant her father was around. Keep distance of 10 feet, he thought.
Her father, Carl Ferris, didn't like him very much. He respected his skills as a pilot, but that was all he respected. Hal Jordan was the kind of man many men wanted to be but none wanted to see with any female they even remotely cared for, let alone their daughters.
Not that he needed to worry.
They had a good run in the weeks before he was officially hired, but Carol would never date an employee. Hal thought it was ridiculous because they both clearly cared for each other and the tension between them was through the roof,but whatever people may think of him, he wasn't the type to push a woman. In any case, he respected Carol far too much for that.
She never seemed more beautiful than when he was about to take off into the skies. Life itself became more vivid, but she stood out more than anything. She was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black pair of cigarette pants. The other men said she looked too mannish. Hal thought she would look no less appealing wearing a wooden box. Her trademark much chewed pencil was poised behind her left ear.
"I did. Bummed it from one of the grease-monkeys. This is a traditional fighter pilot breakfast. Coke, puke, smoke. I figured I'd honor that just for today. It's Silk Cut, they're supposed to be better for you."
"How can a cigarette possibly be 'better' for you?"
Hal shrugged. "I guess the correct term is less worse."
"I trust you read up on it, right?"
"Of course I did."
They both admired the machine.
"They say she's faster than ever. 10Mach to the previous 6.70Mach."
"Theoretically." was all she said. Then she added, "We just might make 15.0Mach in this lifetime."
"Yeah? I hope so. Promise me you'll let me test that one. Even if I'm 100 years old. Or dead. I'll claw my way out of the grave and drag my bony ass here to fly that thing."
She smiled, but then her face turned serious again. "I wish you wouldn't always talk about dying just before you climbed in."
"I'm just trying to make conversation." he joked. Behind the silver tinted aviators glasses he knew she was glaring at him. She had never quite understood that Hal bringing up death in some way or another just before a big test like this one was the closest he could get to 'making peace' with her before he died. If he died.
"Hey, look at me Carol, I won't crash. I never crash. Ever."
"There's a first time for everything Hal. And you've had more than your fair share of near misses."
"Yeah, but I always make it out. And that's what test pilots are for, right? I crash so some poor bastard somewhere doesn't. Anyway, you can't crash when you're as good as I am." He said with a grin. She punched his arm.
"Don't get cocky."
"Bit late for that. Hey, you know what they say, it ain't tricking if you got it."
"Sorry, what?"
"It means its not boasting if you can back it up. And you know I can back it up."
"Yeah, but still... Just be careful, ok?"
"Always." He said before he climbed into the cockpit of what was going to be the future of the US Air Force, a modified X-15. It had first been used in the late 50's mostly for research and development purposes, but now the military wanted to look at its offensive capabilities. It wasn't that different from its counterpart, except that it was faster, and instead of being dropped at an altitude of 14km by a B-52, it would use ground thrusters to get it up into the air. All of that meant a lot more fuel being burned, and a lot more zero's on the bill to put this all together than Hal wanted to think about. But this was all theoretical. Men like Hal Jordan were the ones who had to go out there and prove the tangibility of the numbers on a page.
If it wasn't good enough, if the structure wasn't sound enough to hold together at the reputed max speed, or the engines stopped working past a certain altitude, then it would show during testing and the engineers would go back to the drawing board. Unfortunately things like compromised structural integrity and engine failure tended to result in horrific, fiery deaths that climaxed with earth shattering explosions more often than safe landings.
The best the engineers could do was advise Hal on what to do or anticipate, but he was expected to push the plane to its limits and then some. After all, these machines may very well be used in a war someday, and that was a very bad time to find out that your wings fall apart when you get past a certain speed, or that the engine stalls when you perform a barrel roll at 30,000 feet. It was no easy job, and it required a rare mix of a cool head and a devil may care attitude. Hal Jordan had these two qualities in abundance, but he leaned more towards the latter.
He put on the helmet and the face-mask. Instantly the intercom in the helmet crackled with the voice of Colonel Flagg.
"Jordan, be careful with that thing. It's not ours. Not yet anyway. If you break it, the Military will take a giant shit on our heads, so no fancy Flyboy stuff, ok? Just standard flight maneuvers for today."
"Yes Mom." He said as he checked and re-checked the flight instruments.
He made sure the lever under his seat wasn't jammed in case he needed to punch out in a hurry. Hal had seen men die horribly, falling helplessly out of the sky like flaming dead birds because they forgot to do one simple thing, make sure their shit was in order.
"I'm serious Jordan."
"I know. I already got the speech from Mrs. Ferris yesterday."
In the control tower, Flagg ground his teeth. Jordan was an outstanding pilot, and like all men who are exceptional at their jobs, he was liable to moments of extreme cockiness, bordering on arrogance. He only put up with it because as an Air Force man himself he understood that flying what amounted to a sophisticated coffin at speeds that would peel the skin off of your teeth and heights that made everything look tinier than the tiniest of ants required a liberal helping of bravado, with a generous side of machismo.
"Firing primary thrusters now." Hal said as he flicked the ignition switches.
The engines at the base of the plane roared to life and white hot flames fired out of the chutes. The noise was deafening. The thrusters shot out the flames as the plane slowly levitated, going ever higher until it reached the 14,000 metre mark.
Hal checked the instruments, the readings seemed about right, only off by a few digits after the decimal. Nothing too far off from the engineers estimated figures.
"Ok, everything seems fine. Engaging secondary thrusters." He said as he flicked another set of ignition switches.
Now came the hard part. Because the plane was much too fast and flew too high to use drag as a form of steering, he had to use rocket thrusters to control the plane. It sounded easy enough, but there were three joysticks, one for regular steering and the other two that controlled the thrusters. He would have to somehow control all 3 if he was to have complete control of the plane. Well, not complete control, but a damn sight better than he would have with just one joystick.
"Here we go. One small step for man and all that." He nudged the joysticks ever so slightly. The plane blasted forward, the force pushing him back into the seat.
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODTHISISFASTERTHANTHESPEEDOFTHOUGHTHOOOOOOOOOLYSHIIIITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT he thought as he surged forward at unimaginable speeds. Even as a Lantern he had never before flown this fast. He was definitely going to try that now. Every chance he got. He felt like he was going to puke. He hadn't felt this excited in a long time. He looked at the dials. he was approaching 7Mach. Doing the math in his head he realized it was close to 8,000KM/h.
"Jordan, talk to us dammit!" The intercom crackled in his ear. It sounded like it came from an impossibly far distance. Like Flagg was in a tunnel on the other side of the planet. Like in cartoons when someone drilled their way to China.
Focus Hal! The deck needs a sitrep. He struggled to form the words. Once they started they wouldn't stop. They came out in an endless stream.
"GAAAAAAHEVERYTHINGSEEMSFINEENGINETEMPERATURESTABLEBAROMETRICPRESSUREOKALTITUDECLIMBING75KM-"
"What? I can't hear a word you're saying Jordan! Slow it down! You're just moving fast,not talking fast!" Flagg had seen it before. Once you got to a certain speed the mind just..lost it somehow. Jordan was experienced though, so he wasn't too worried about him. Looking across at Carl he could see he was also calm, but Carol looked slightly worried behind her sunglasses.
"Ugh... Engine temperature stable. Barometric pressure inside cabin seems ok. Speed...7.5Mach... Altitude... Approaching 100KM mark..Passed it, now climbing.."
Flagg nodded. "He's just passed the 100KM mark and he's at 7.5Mach. He's broken the record for height and speed." he said to the room. The engineers and technicians cheered. Carl Ferris smiled tightly. Carol's face didn't change in the slightest.
The windows of the cabin were starting to frost over as he climbed ever higher. He pushed a button beside the first joystick that activated heaters in the windows. He was mindful of the instruments the whole time.
"Jordan! Communicate!"
"This...is a little harder...than it..looks..speed..8.3Mach..Altitude..147.5KM..."
"All right Jordan, I think that's far enough. When you get to 8.5Mach and 150KM, slow it down and come back to Earth."
No response.
"Did you hear me Jordan?!"
"I...I did...I've hit those numbers.. But I'm gonna see if I can max this baby..."
"No! Standard maneuvers only Jordan, you disengage right now!"
"Like...like hell I am...This isn't the Air Force Flagg..You don't give me orders...You can't give me orders!"
"Jordan! Stop now!"
"Sorry Flagg, I'm feeling lucky! Speed,10.6Mach. Altitude...174.6KM..Gonna push it just a little further!"
"Jordan! That plane wasn't built to take any more than the specified figures!"
"It wouldn't have made it this far if that was the case." He sounded oddly peaceful.
"Jordan! Jordan! Answer me!" Static. Shit.
"We've lost comms." He said quietly. Carol walked out of the room onto the balcony. She bowed her head. Carl's face looked troubled.
215KM Above Earth
Hal had never been this high up in a jet before. It was always something he had wanted to do. Sure he saw the stars all the time, and as a Green Lantern he saw things humans couldn't even dream of, but this was something he could finally cross off of his bucket list. The ring was awesome but it just couldn't compare to the feeling of a powerful man-made machine under his control. It was like the difference between playing a first person shooter game and actually being in a firefight. This was a feeling the ring could not give him. It was always mental, never physical. That was one thing-the only thing- he missed about his time in the Air Force. Lucky for him he landed a job where he got to play with their toys before they did.
He had reached the Golden Moment. The time when he felt weightless...at peace with everything. A part of existence itself. He looked at the instruments. Everything stable. Whatever happened now didn't matter. He had just had one hell of a ride. He breathed in the oxygen from his mask.
Glorious.
And then his ring bleeped.
"Really!? Now!? When I'm actually doing something important, you choose to do this now!?"
The ring projected a hologram of...no way.
"Sinestro!? This better be some planet ending shit man!"
"Jordan, I don't like seeing your face any more than you do mine, but I must. The Guardians have asked for you to report to Oa immediately."
"What, me specifically? What the hell for?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't they just tell me themselves?"
Sinestro very nearly laughed.
"You are a low-level Lantern. A grunt. Do you really think the Guardians would contact a worm like you personally?"
"I wonder what that says about you if they sent Big Bad Sinestro to call a lowly grunt."
That wiped the smirk off of his face.
"Report to Oa immediately Lantern." It had the tone of an order.
Technically Lanterns didn't really have ranks, but a veteran like Sinestro was obeyed by just about everyone.
Except Hal Jordan.
"Look, I'm a little busy here-"
"This is Corps business. Whatever you are doing will have to wait."
"No can do Barney. Earth isn't like wherever the hell you're from. I have a day job, and a secret identity to protect. Leaving work now would look hella suspicious."
"Fine. But as soon as you are done, report to Oa. Sinestro out."
The green hologram fizzled out. His eyes shifted to the dials. Holy shit. Speed was 12.0Mach and altitude was well over 200KM above Earth. He was going to burn up on re-entry. Unless...
He looked at his gloved hand. It had worked through the glove. Would it work through the hull of reinforced steel and aluminum? Only one way to find out.
He concentrated on forming a protective shield around the outside of the plane. It wasn't easy. but will was something he had in abundance, and eventually he managed to encase the entire plane in the shield. It actually made things a lot easier because he could just steer the plane with his mind. Technically it was cheating but he doubted any USAF fighter pilots would ever need to be 200KM+ high above Earth, and the engine and chassis had held up thus far. Once he breached the atmosphere he would nix the shield, then all he had to do was stick the landing.
Piece of cake after everything else. Literally the second he breached the atmosphere his headset began squawking.
"JordanJordanJordanJor-"
"I'm here, shut up for gods sake. How long have you been droning my name?"
"You really fucked up this time Jordan. This may be your last flight. I hope it was worth it."
Hal was silent for a few minutes as he concentrated on the 3 steering columns, using all the rocket thrusters to steer as well as slow his descent. He touched down gently after hovering over the ground for a few meters to kill any lingering momentum. His head was pushed forward onto the front cushion as the X-15 decelerated. He looked at the dials. It's speed slowing down was greater than the max speed of most planes he had flown his entire career thus far.
"I'm not fired Colonel. Not if I land her without a scratch. Which I just did. Also, I just broke the records I set earlier. New ones are a speed of 12.0Mach and altitude was 254KM. For once, the bird actually exceeded expectations."
"It's a miracle your alive. Those numbers are outstanding, but for once I don't think that'll be enough. Ferris is pissed."
"She's always pissed."
"Both of them Jordan. I'd say Papa Bear is the angrier of the two."
"Shit."
"Yes Jordan. Shit."
Several hours later. Ferris Aircraft,Coast City
After receiving a very thorough lecture from both Ferris Aircraft bosses, he was finally released from the office. He had never seen Mr Ferris so livid. At one point his face was so red Hal felt sure it would burst.
Carol was even worse. She had actually called him Harold.
He went into the locker room and changed out of his sweat-soaked flightsuit, then he took a long, hot shower. It could be worse, he thought as the water ran over his body. He could have lost his job. Flagg had been wrong about one thing though, the performance had been good enough to save his ass from getting canned at the very least.
But suspended without pay? For an indefinite period of time?
He had enough money stashed away to go without work for at least another year, but he would miss the thrill of flying jets really really fast. What would he do with himself now? he wondered as he changed into his faded blue jeans and white t-shirt. Go back to stunt driving? No. He'd have to throw himself into his other job. He had to go to Oa. But first, he'd drop his stuff off at home.
He met Colonel Flagg on his way out, also dressed in civilian clothes, with a tween that must have been his son. Flagg looked...happy.
"Wow Colonel. I didn't know you were human."
"Hal, this is my son, Rick Flagg Jr." He didn't even register the jibe. Zero points for creativity in the naming department, he thought. Hal was awkward with kids.
"Er..Hi Rick Flagg Jr. Listen Colonel, I'm heading out. See you when I see you."
"Oh, that's all right Hal. Until next time." He even sounded different.
As he walked out of the base with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, he looked back at Colonel Flagg.
He was down on one knee, putting the aviator cap on his son's head. It was too big for the boy and it covered his face almost halfway.
Despite himself Hal smiled at the sight. It was..gratifying to see someone normally so aloof showing signs of humanity.
Hal couldn't have known it, but it was to be the last time he would ever see Colonel Flagg.
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A/N: X-15 is real, every last detail. It's top speed was as listed above-6.70Mach. Interestingly enough Neil Armstrong was actually a test pilot for one of these, I didn't know that. It's cool to see real life examples of exceptionally skilled human beings achieving great things as a result of their ability. Maybe we will have superheroes one day, eh? It might seem like a dream, but 100 years ago people probably thought we'd never get to the stars.
I hope this chapter gives you some insight into *my* Hal Jordan.
Read and Review.