Author's Note: Another DC original. Yes, you read that right. Consider it Part 2 in a trilogy of prequel stories that will funnel the characters into whatever universe or storyline I choose. So, yes, this is in the same universe as Across the Stars. Hope you enjoy the characters and the events that unfold! Let's have some fun, shall we?

Chapter 1: How Did We Get Here

The blue Honda Civic rolled through the road gate of Blyniville Air Force Base, part owned by Ferris-Bloch Aircraft. Normally there would be the usual flurry of activity in the form of ground crews, mechanics, and engineers as they ran tests on the various prototype components for jet fighters. But today, the driver discovered an eerie silence, coupled with barely a human presence on site.

Emerging from his vehicle, short blonde hair rustling in the faint wind, sharp blue eyes looked around for some signs of activity. Was he late for a presentation? A company-wide meeting? Had his co-workers pranked him… again? He left his lunch behind in his car and started looking around, venturing well-past the hangar he normally worked in to look for signs of activity. His ears remained pricked for the slightest human noise but that was a long way off. The base was deathly quiet.

At last, rounding a corner, he spied a familiar brunette woman. The project director and company COO. "Miss Ferris!" He called out, breaking into a run. She was all by herself, standing outside of a trailer turned into an office setup. "Miss Ferris. Where is everyone? Did I miss something?" He asked, slightly out of breath.

"Would do you good to read memos, Mister Lancaster." Carol Ferris answered, arms crossed. Her tone was dour, that of a woman with a lot on her mind. "The Air Force is shutting the base down. So we're going to have to subsidize our assets and redistribute them over our other holdings." She said simply. The blonde man blinked, unsure of how to take this. "I'm sorry, Colton. But a lot of jobs are on the chopping block. Yours included." She turned to leave and he was left stunned for a moment. Colton glanced around the place and cursed himself for ignoring the site bulletin board for so long. The death of his grandfather had consumed his focus and he had only just gotten back from the funeral and reading of the will. To see this, the one place in the world he was seeking sanctuary from the harsh realities of life, be ripped away from him was almost too much. He needed to hold on to this, even if it was just a little shred. Aerospace engineering, things that fly, they were his whole world. And he didn't want his world to crumble away. He needed to do something and his desperation drove him towards something unthinkable…

He did the one thing he would never do: speak impulsively.

Before his brain caught up with his mouth, Colton said "Can I buy it?"

Carol turned around with a confused look on her face. She stared at him for a lingering second. "What?"

"The hangar. One of the hangars we use. I just want the building and the land it's on." He hurriedly explained. "The Air Force can do whatever they want with the land and Ferris Air can do what it wants with its buildings, I just want to buy one of the hangars we use. I have money. Take my job, do whatever, I just want one of the hangars." His rapid response caught Carol off-guard and it showed in her expression. "Please, Miss Ferris." He didn't want to come across as begging, but desperation was slowly getting the better of him.

Carol's confused look lasted a little longer. "Why do you want-?" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "Never mind. I'll take it under consideration, right now I need to finalize things with the Air Force. Go home, Mister Lancaster. I'll be in touch." Colton nodded and took Carol's promise to heart, turning on heel and heading back towards his car. The daughter of the company founder watched him go with a scrutinizing gaze. A few numbers ran through her head. "Buy a hangar? No wonder everyone calls him 'Crazy Colt'…" She muttered to herself.

Two years later…

The blue Honda Civic rolled through the garage door of the hangar and parked next to the myriad of tools and workbenches stationed off in the corner. Stepping out with a bag in hand, Colton Lancaster (or just 'Colt' to those close to him) breathed a sigh of relief as he returned home. The garage door shut behind him and he left the sack of parts on his workbench. The sun was setting, bathing everything in an orange glow that filtered through the many windows of the hangar. This lower level was filled with all kinds of machinery and equipment. Not a day went by where Colton didn't put it to good use.

His hands slipped through his blonde hair, now a little longer since he no longer had to contend with Ferris Air's professionalism standards of short to avoid unnecessary strands caught int aircraft components. Shucking off his jacket and draping it across the back of his well-used chair, he ran his fingers across a small bronze placard with his grandfather's name inscribed upon it, the sole memento he kept from the old office he'd visited frequently as a boy. "Wouldn't have done it without you, pops." He said aloud, smiling faintly.

George Lancaster Sr. had made a living as a stock broker, able to read the market like a newspaper and play the financial district like piano keys. His intuitive genius netted him many customers looking for advice as well as shrewd planning and a knack for judgement calls made him a very rich man. Even with this incredible talent, he found his purpose in his family instead of his job. With three children and many more grandchildren, the inheritance he left for them was a remarkable total and everyone generally assumed the portions were equal. Money brought out the worst in people and Colton had every intention of keeping his multi-million dollar inheritance (which was well over eight digits) to himself, but the reading of the will blew his cover and he hadn't heard a kind word from his cousins since that day when they argued about their two million dollar inheritances.

Quiet and unassuming, always keeping his nose down so it could be buried in his work or a book, Colton had fostered a healthy and meaningful relationship with his grandfather and that was largely in part why his inheritance was so much more than the others, who saved face in the hopes of a huge payout. Taking his money, Colton had elected to buy himself a place where he really felt at home that just so happened to reflect his eclectic personality.

Airplanes. He loved them ever since he was a boy, determined to fly one. But as he grew older the desire to fly transformed into one of learning how they could fly and Colton's interest shifted towards the mechanical. His passion drove him to obtain a degree in aerospace engineering followed closely by a job at Ferris Aircraft; Coast City's biggest employer and also one of the country's largest Air Force contractors. His love of flight grew, now more enamoured with the inner-workings of fighter jets than the grand lustre of them soaring through the open air. It held appeal but not as much as knowing how much cubic metres of thrust could be squeezed out of a fluid ounce of fuel.

He made a name for himself as an innovator, the same shrewd sense of knowhow his grandfather possessed seemingly skipping a generation to be part of Colton's inheritance also. He generally perplexed his coworkers, who were equal parts impressed by his incredible developments in prototypes and bewildered by his outlandish ideas for the future of fighter jets.

It was a sad day when Carol Ferris informed him his wing of the company would be terminated in order to meet the Air Force's demand for next generation aircraft and not aircraft of the far flung future. A silver lining in that dark cloud was the land permits to own one of the hangars on the base. The rest would be demolished while Colton could keep the fifteen feet around the hangar in whatever condition he liked.

In his eyes, it was money well-spent.

His dinky little apartment in the city could not compare to his new hangar-home once the renovations were complete; proper insulation, skylights, and his living space found into the added upstairs level, complete with a broad kitchen, luxurious living space, and a king-sized master bedroom. All of it ornately furnished, right down to the bathroom. It hadn't been a cheap venture but his inheritance had come in very handy. In addition to the multi-million dollar cash sum, his grandfather left numerous stocks and bonds behind in his name, some of which he put to good use right away (cashing out his WayneTech and LexCorp stocks alone had provided the millions needed to get power, water, and heating connected in his new home).

And so Colton spent his days in relative comfort, getting his hands on whatever the Air Force and Ferris Aircraft had left behind so he could have something to tinker with. Part of his personal library included a vast array of old blueprints from shelves projects, most deemed 'too expensive' or 'unnecessary'. With an infinite amount of time on his hands and a lot of money to go around, Colton decided to make them work.

And thus his new 'job' was born.

Standing within a small scaffolding arrangement, partly held up by chains descending from the I-beams supporting the floor of his upstairs domicile, stood a seven-foot tall suit of fighter jet silver with red and blue trim. Its faceless helm appeared alien, especially with the camera boxes mounted on either side. It relied on a form of optic-guided multi-spectrum sensors the Air Force had been testing on their mainline jet fighters. A lot of the suit certainly appeared as though a jet fighter had stood up on two legs and sprouted arms, all except for the long cylindrical tool affixed to the oversized right arm.

The original intent was to make a weapon that would harness natural-occurring molecular science in a cost-effective manner. FerrisAir scientists hit upon the concept of using concussive force with electron-photon collisions and plans were drawn up but never green-lit. With time and patience, Colton had managed to make it work and the Light Amplified Negative Charge Emitter was built over the course of several months, even shaping it like a medieval lance to make the acronym and its moniker fit.

Originally engineered to sit flush under a jet fighter, the hefty weapon required equal force to move it, which led Colton down a rabbit hole of G-forces, robotic pneumatics, and pilot-vehicle cohesion tests. The result was an armored suit, equipped with a four-thruster backpack consisting of two pulsejets and two ramjets to help achieve high flight velocity. In the year since its inception, Colton had tested the armor in a variety of circumstances and gradually made a name for himself a vigilante in Coast City. With the city's original hero, Green Lantern, making sporadic appearances to fight crime certain criminals were emboldened during his absences. Seeing a need, Colton decided to fill it with his 'wearable Air Force gear' as the armor suit shifted from a mere project to tinker with into the face and appearance of a new vigilante.

With the LANCE attached to the electromechanical suit, a quick paint job inspired by Air Force roundel gave birth to what Colton called 'Liberty Lance'. Liberty from the mundane, liberty from criminal activity, liberty from lawlessness.

Appraising the electromechanical suit, Colt took a moment to reflect on a conversation he had with his grandfather a long time ago. He was on the cusp of becoming a teenager when he entered the old man's living room…

"Grandpa… am I a nerd?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Some kids at school called me one. I didn't think I was."

"Does it matter what they call you? What matters is that you know who you are and you, Colton, are smart. So very smart. But remember: intelligence is only so good when it is put to good use. If all you do is read books and fill your mind with information, then it's a useless intelligence. You've got to find a way to apply it. Take action. Find something you like and put that big brain of yours to use expanding it."

"I really like planes. Fighter jets, mostly. They have all the cool new technology."

"Is that so? Well then, you should pursue that. With your mind, you could dominate the aircraft development business. You're destined for great things, Colton, but the universe doesn't owe you a thing. You want it? Work for it."

That driven sense of application, a need to do something and not be idle, inspired his new course of action. It came to pass when Colton suddenly found himself intrigued by the live news reports of the Green Lantern in action. Watching him take out a cadre of villains; the Tattooed Man, Sonar, the Solarites, drew Colton's attention towards vigilantism. Some threats simply couldn't be handled by the police alone. Some required a more powerful helping hand.

"Showtime once again," he said to himself, ditching his coat and shoes for faded green Air Force coveralls and a worn pair of sneakers that favoured comfort above all. Spending long hours in the suit meant making his time as comfortable as possible without needing to take breaks and Colton had spent enough hours in the thing to know what needed a cushion and where.

Ascending the step ladder needed to enter the open chassis, Colton unhooked the various stability chains before closing the armor plate around himself. The helmet and collar locked into place and promptly powered up his on-board HUD display, built with the holographic style of displays used in fifth-generation jet fighters in mind. Power cells spooled up, altimeters flickered into view, and numbers of all sorts spread across his vision in a green glow as the cameras revealed his surroundings through a crystal clear filter.

He tested his limbs, flexing the left hand as it responded to his movements. Each limb was built using micro-sized diesel motors to replicate organic musculature and ensure smooth performance. Despite the appearance of an oversized fist on his right, it was all for show and was mostly hollow to allow for the complex controls to operate the LANCE. Having spent enough time testing it, Colton knew them all by heart without having to look.

His hand grasped a joystick, his index and middle fingers resting against two triggers while his thumb sat above a button and a thick dial to control the energy emission settings. The LANCE had five types of firing that relied upon a network of power cells that cycled through like magazines in a rifle. By funnelling photons into stored electrons, enough electromagnetic energy was created to generate a concussive beam of light. Low-level blasts could knock a person off their feet and send them flying down the length of a city block. High-level blasts could send a car flying across three city blocks.

He knew. He had tried it for himself.

Leaving the harness setup, Liberty Lance strode forward with heavy footsteps as he made for the rear of the hangar. Colton had modified the door there to allow for easy access for the bulky suit and motion sensors enabled it to open and close automatically. The armor plate gleamed in the setting sun as he stepped outside, camera optics polarizing as they were bathed in orange. "Engage cooling systems." The sub-functions of the suit were based around voice command, ensuring Colton had easy access to everything necessary without having to take apart his suit or use one of his hands.

"Activate pulsejet afterburners, low intensity settings." A roar filled the air as two of the four thrusters on his back lit up and lifted him into the air. Flight was entirely controlled by the stabilizing fins attached to his forearms and shoulders, coupled with a few more on the thruster pack resembling dorsal and ventral wings. He launched into the sky, his feet dangling as he left the ground. Altimeters flashed and internal guidance computers tracked his flight while Colton levelled out. "Set pulsejet afterburners to medium intensity." His surroundings became a blur as Liberty Lance rocketed towards Coast City, his speedometer clocking in at 576 miles per hour…

Coast City Coliseum. Home of the Coast City Clippers NBA team. Normally it was the perfect basketball arena for big game events. Tonight, however, it had been modified to be the epicentre for a travelling fashion gala. White and grey was the theme, simple shades taking the form of banners and iridescent light that allowed the shining colorful dresses to take prominence. A screen hovered at the rear of the space, spelling out the sponsor and event name in broad letters from a projector in the ceiling: 'McCabe & Spencer: Riches of the Earth'.

Standing off to one side, a sepia-skinned woman wearing a backless, low-cut green sequinned dress studied the crowd examining the various designs displayed on mannequins spread out across the gala floor. Each mannequin was also adorned with a golden pendant featuring a precious uncut stone seated within that dazzled in the overhead lights. A handful of models wore some of the dresses and jewelry themselves, showing off how each item looked on a living being. The theme was geological in nature, combining prized minerals with dresses to match the splendor of a gemstone cave.

A bespectacled red-haired woman in a dark pantsuit approached her, her hands adorned in numerous golden bracelets that matched the white-gold necklace she wore. She was accompanied by a thin-haired moustachioed man in a suit and tie, although the tie looked as though he had no idea what he was doing when he tied it. "I must say, Mari, you and your team have outdone yourselves. This is a truly exquisite event." The redhead complimented.

"I think it's the venue. Much better than the Iceberg Lounge was." Mari McCabe agreed. "It's not just my people, though. You and your team did an excellent job preparing the accompanying jewelry, Sarah."

Sarah Spencer, owner and proprietor of the jewelry company Spencer Jewels, smiled in reply showing off bright white teeth. "I certainly can't take all the credit. Professor Morgan Anderson was gracious enough to lend us the raw samples of jadeite and serendibite we used to create the pendants and necklaces." She said, gesturing to the man with her. Professor Anderson slicked back his thin black hair and smiled nervously.

"Rare Earth minerals such as these are as beautiful as any woman. I can't think of a better way to show them and possibly get people interested in my research. Geology is such an underfunded field these days." He stated in a squeaky voice.

Mari smirked. "If that's the case, why don't you go an hobnob with the academia folks. I think I saw some representatives from the Joseph Leff Museum of Natural History, and also the dean of the Coast City Institute of Technology."

Morgan's eyes brightened, hard to do when they were as bleakly hazel as they were. "I believe I'll do just that. Thank you, ladies." He offered a little bow before strutting off with a partial spring in his step. The two women exchanged glances.

"I think he needs to get out of his lab a little more often." Sarah remarked.

"Reminds me of one of my exes: always buried in his work." Mari added. They were swiftly joined by two more women, a blonde and a brunette, both modelling friends of Mari. The blonde was clad in a ruby red sequinned cocktail dress while the brunette was wearing a long spaghetti strap number in sapphire blue, complete with a long slit up the side. Both were wearing pendants that shimmered in the light, one a mossy-green the other pearl-white.

"Are you sure you don't want this jade-thingy, Mari? You are wearing green, after all. Might as well complete the set." The blonde asked.

"No way, Paulina. It'll just be a color clash. Looks better on you with the red, draws more attention that way." Mari replied. She looked back to Sarah. "Some friends of mine and fellow models who were gracious enough to agree to do this tour; Paulina McIntyre and Andreya Walsh."

"Of course," Sarah extended her hand, "I saw you two at a distance while we were in Gotham. You both look marvellous. Sarah Spencer, pleased to meet you both."

"Oh! The jewelry lady! Mari told us about you." Paulina exclaimed, shaking her hand. "I can't even begin to describe how amazing your jewelry looks."

"You've really outdone yourself with these pendants. They're just the best!" Andreya concurred.

"Happy to see them worn by ladies who appreciate good style." Sarah said with a smile. "So far my every interaction with Mari and her crew has been nothing short of blissfully smooth. I'm incredibly thankful we were able to strike a deal."

As the woman continued to converse, the crowds continued to respectfully study the various dressed on display as well as marvel over the gemstone pendants containing all forms of rare Earth stones and metals. Among them, a short man with course dark hair, round face and beady eyes examined the stones, taking careful note of the placards guaranteeing their authenticity. He smiled to himself and inconspicuously tapped his throat mic.

"They're real. Come on in."

The thieves were little more than wannabe-gangers, determined to extort or rob all the businesses along 23rd Avenue. They had just completed their third successful robbery of the night when sirens announced the impending arrival of police and they made a break for it. Their four-door black sedan with a replacement red driver's door peeled rubber as it turned onto a side street and bolted towards the nearest freeway. They would lose the cops once they had access to the ring road circling the city and the three men within praised each other on a job well done.

Until, that is, they were attacked without warning.

A column of light slammed into the front of the car, caving the hood and engine block as it was buried in the pavement below. The force of the impact was sufficient to flip the vehicle end over end, the thieves within screaming obscenities and desires to not die as they feared being crushed when the car landed. It didn't. Suddenly stopping at a vertical angle, the men in front straining against their seatbelts while the man in the rear was tossed like a ragdoll and struck the dashboard, the car hovered in air for a moment as the droning rush of afterburners filled their hearing. The vehicle was eased down and tipped onto its side, the thieves too dazed and confused to respond as police arrived with guns drawn.

Liberty Lance took flight once more, soaring between the high rises of Coast City as he tracked his course. The onboard cameras had been copied from the same surveillance hardware used in spy drones, something Ferris Aircraft had a hand in developing. Utilizing the same technology, Colt could study people from a distance in the modern equivalent of a hawk spotting a field mouse from two miles away.

Coast City always looked lovely during the twilight hours of the day. Being situated right next to the Pacific Ocean, the setting sun bathed the metropolitan centre in clashing shades of indigo and orange, highlighted by dozens of yellow lights igniting throughout skyscraper windows. Having been privy to the sight a few times over the course of his new career in vigilantism, Colt always found himself enamoured by the look of his hometown this late in the day. It made him glad to protect it, only bowing out when Green Lantern was around to handle things.

"So far nothing too out of the ordinary." He said to himself, scanning the cityscape below with a small, pleased smile. Rolling left, the armor arced on a new course, heading towards the lit-up Coast City Coliseum. Colt took note of the spotlights reaching high into the sky and wondered if there was a basketball game on. The parking lot was certainly packed enough to justify one. He dove low, adjusting the camera feed to zero in on the open skylight as he made to pass over.

Colt blinked a few times when he saw no court or players, but a rather elegantly styled room full of people in suits and dresses… as well as what looked like a SWAT team pointing assault rifles at them all.

"Okay, that's new. Some kinda hold-up I bet." He surmised. "Pulsejets to minimum." His voice command was met by a whine as the afterburners slacked off and he began to plummet. Angling his body so he would hit the glass feet-first, Colt primed the charge on the LANCE and prayed the shock-absorbers in the boots would not give out on landing…