Inside MarsTech

( Note that this short story occurs after Episode 32 “Stealing the Heart” of City of Destiny)

“Where are we on the PR front, Mrs. Blackwell?”

The 21-year-old wunderkind smiled brightly as Maximillian Mars turned his attention to her. Despite the smart-looking blazer and pantsuit she wore, with her blonde hair, buxom figure, and bouncy personality, she seemed like she would be better suited to be on a cheerleading field than inside of a board-room. But Mars prided himself on recognizing talent when he saw it. That she was related to Crucible, even if she didn’t realize that the hero was her step-son, was a bonus – but not the reason he kept her in charge of the hero team’s PR. Seated around the table in Mars’ office were a number of other highly trained professionals who were there to keep the CEO up-to-date on the status of the Storm Breakers.

Ryleigh stood as she began. “Things are going well. The team is well-liked, with favorability ratings in the polls in the 73-75% positive range. Portal and Khione, in particular, are very well liked among the under 35 set. There was a slight dip when we announced that Bulwark was leaving the team, but that was mostly with white people over the age of fifty.” Ryleigh gestured and the projector displayed graphs supporting her statements.

“As far as media coverage goes, it is overwhelmingly positive. It helps that the Mayor’s office and the ECPD have released numerous statements praising the Storm Breakers for their efforts to protect people and to limit property damage. There have been some critical statements made by Director Mitchell of AEGIS, but since the general public doesn’t know him all that well…” she trailed off.

“The Nightwatchmen host, Colin Hoke? He’s been bashing the team regularly, but that doesn’t seem to be affecting the public sentiment too terribly. But The Gray Ghost has reported a lot of positive actions by the team, even some that didn’t receive any mainstream press coverage, and those posts have gone viral – encouraged by the MarsTech Cyber Operations team, of course.”

Max Mars frowned. “How is the Gray Ghost finding out about those less well-known activities?” He turned his gaze away from Ryleigh, and looked to Regina Cross, his head of security. “Do we have a mole?”

“Unlikely, sir. But I will look into it.” With her hair in a severe bun and the glasses she wore, it would be easy to mistake the 43-year-old woman for a librarian. But she held multiple black belts and was an absolute genius when it came to security. Stealing her from KessKorp ten years ago was one of the better moves Mars had made.

As Ryleigh continued her report on various interviews that the team had conducted, Mars let his mind wander. It had been a long, strange trip that brought him here. It had been nearly thirty years since he had been a young man, wearing a suit of power armor, and facing off with the likes of Captain Thunder and the previous Lady Liberty back in Freedom City.

Those were the days, Maximillian Mars thought to himself, somewhat wistfully. True, the name “The Commander” was ridiculous, but it was a more ridiculous time. The stakes somehow felt smaller, less personal, less dark. At least they did until Omega.

The Terminus Invasion was the real turning point. He had already started turning some of the alien technology in the Commander Armor into commercial patents with the company that would become MarsTech, but it wasn’t until the invasion and his chance to fight alongside the League that the possibility of retiring from “super-villany” was really an option. That was a fierce time, and Mars remembered thinking more than once that he was going to die. Many did, and Mars was present when The Centurion fell. But his actions during the invasion were what lead to his Presidential Pardon, which in turn let him safely step away from costumed antics and focus on the growing business.

Of course, nothing could be that simple for long. No sooner had he moved his activities back to Emerald City than he was contacted by The Chamber. That collective of supervillains kept Emerald City quiet, but at the cost of an iron fist over supercrime in the city and an agreement to keep it quiet and low-key, so no superheroes would make their homes here for long. It was a strategy that had worked for them for decades, but it wasn’t one that Mars was comfortable with. He had been planning on sponsoring a superteam for nearly nine years now. The Silver Storm, and the Stormbreakers, gave him the perfect excuse to do that.

Mind you, that had its own complications. Professor Cephalopod had determined that the nanites that caused the Storm had originated inside Redshift Energies – a subsidiary of MarsTech. Mars knew that the nanites that powered the Commander battlesuit had been turned over to Redshift to look at as an alternate energy source, but he had still been unable to find a paper trail explaining where the truck full of nanites – and the explosion that spread them across the city – had come from. Papers had been signed, but by people who swear they never did so. It was like a ghost had taken control of parts of the company and set everything in motion – not that Mars believed in ghosts.

Mars pulled his thoughts back to the present as Ryleigh Blackwell completed her report. “Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell,” Mars said in a smooth voice that was the result of years of training with speech therapists. He turned to look back to Regina. “Ms. Cross, report on the security of the Emerald Tower? We’re preparing the Grand Opening in just a few weeks, and I do not want another breach of security. Especially not one that allows any unauthorized people into the Storm Breaker’s HQ.”

Regina nodded. “Understood, sir. We have purged all signs of Chessman infection within our computers and security systems. Biometric sensors as well as key-cards are required to access their floors from below. With Mr. Washington’s abilities, and the ability of Crucible, Khione, and Professor Cephalopod to fly, it’s exceedingly rare that anyone other than Mr. Moore uses the elevators to access their floors. I believe that their base is exceedingly secure,” she said.

“Excellent. That brings me to a final point,” Mars responded. He gestured to the clocks on the wall, which included clocks set to various times across the globe, and where the date was prominently displayed. “Today is Thursday. No one has seen the team since late Monday night. Where the hell are they?!?”