Iron Gal

Iris lit another cigarette as she stepped out of her car, taking a deep, nicotine laced death. She had swapped out her tank-top and shorts for a black suit, though she had left the tie discarded on her bedroom floor. It had also seemed appropriate to don a bulletproof vest too, considering this weapons demonstration was taking place in a war zone. Given the climate in Griffinstan and the sunlight in Equestria, Iris slipped on a pair of blue lensed sunglasses after she returned her lighter to her pocket, along with her pack of cigarettes.

The car had pulled up onto the runway of the nearby airport. The only plane there at the moment was Iris' private jet, clearly having been kept waiting there for a long time, considering the irritated Spitfire standing at the bottom of the steps. She tapped her foot and checked her non-existent watch as Iris approached. Iris wasn't duly concerned. She had received this sort of treatment before and she always brushed it off like a bad hangover. Spitfire looked especially peeved however. The ex-Wonderbolt often accompanied Iris to these demonstrations to give her own opinion and to keep Iris in check. It was like Iris had her mother looking over her shoulder on her first date.

"You're late," Spitfire stated.

"Its my plane remember?" iris chuckled, dropping the end of her cigarette to the floor. "If I was late it would have left without me but considering its my plane and therefore won't leave without me, I can't be late."

"Only you could come up with an excuse like that," Spitfire sighed. "Shall we just go before we fall even more off schedule?"

"Whatever you say," Iris shrugged and walking up the steps to the jet's interior, Spitfire following behind.

When they were both inside the take-off procedures followed in usual monotonous fashion. Spitfire, former pilot herself, always found this part particularly boring. Eventually however they were in the air and free to relax.

"How'd the ceremony go last night?" Spitfire asked, leaning back in a leather armchair.

"Three trophies," Iris yawned. She beckoned to one of the stewardesses with one finger. The young woman came over and handed Iris a glass of whiskey, which the billionaire accepted with her trademark, sly wink.

"Are you certain you should be drinking?" Spitfire asked. Iris rolled her eyes and knocked back the amber liquid in a single gulp, before holding the glass out to be refilled.

"Relax," Iris replied, "'Snot like I'm gonna get wasted or anything. This is just..." She paused to think of an excuse.

"To calm your nerves?" Spitfire asked. Iris snorted.

"Hell no. I was gonna say it's... medicinal! Yeah, that's what I meant. This is for medicinal purposes." Having justified herself, Iris knocked back her second whiskey.

"I would prefer it if you stopped taking you medicine," Spitfire muttered.

"Oh come on!" Iris cired in exasperation. "When have I ever made an ass of myself at these demonstrations?"

Spitfire fixed Iris with a glance. "Manehatten, two years ago."

Iris looked confused for a moment before her face cleared in a look of clarity and mirth. "You mean the time I threw all over you by mistake?"

"Yes."

"I said sorry. Besides I wasn't aiming for you."

"You were aiming? Who at?"

"Soaring," Iris said with a smirk. Spitfire gave a bitter chuckle.

"I think I can forgive you for that."

The heat of Griffinstan was sweltering to Iris, especially considering she wearing mostly black and there wasn't a square inch of shade for miles around the test site. Still Iris knew that for the few minutes out in the blistering heat, she would be marketing her best creation yet to the world, thus earning plenty of bits. That was enough to ensure Iris didn't turn away and head back to her cushy hotel room.

She slid out of her military escort vehicle and stepped down onto dusty, sandy ground, shading her already sunglasses covered eyes. The sunlight in Griffinstan was startling, blinding almost. Given where they were standing too, on a plane of whitish rock and sand that reflected the light almost as well as a mirror, it was clear to see why everyone was wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Everyone translating out to a few of Stark Industries chairmen, several investors and potential customers (mainly from the private sector) and quite a few military representatives. With an internal groan Iris saw Soarin standing in the crown, in full military dress, clearly trying to impress somebody. Beside him stood his Major General, a younger woman who had once tried out for the Wonderbolts herself, but was rejected on accounts of her volatile nature. Iris remembered her nickname being 'Lightning' or something like that.

It was then Iris noticed another odd pair,standing a little way away from the others. A pair of women. The first looked normal enough, wearing an almost blinding white blouse that complimented her alabaster skin, a pair of blue jeans and black shoes. Her sunglasses had black lenses and her purple hair had been styled into a series of elegant curls.

The other woman, was dressed in bizarre getup for the climate. A long black tench-coat over what looked like full SWAT armour. Iris could see the sweat on her skin in such constricting apparel, the beads of perspiration rolling over her tanned forehead. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her green eyes had a similar look to Soarin's. That being the gaze of a soldier.

Neither of these individuals had attended one of Iris' demo's before. Now that Iris began to think about it, she had never seen either individual before in her life. She shrugged this off however. Maybe they were potential investors who knew? They had come her to see a demonstration and that's what they were going to get.

Iris walked out in front of the crowd and neared a large, tarpaulin covered object. She knew what was underneath it. It was the reason why everyone was here today. Her latest innovation. She smiled, resisting the urge to caress the covered weapon. She cleared her throat and turned to the onlookers.

"First all I'd like to say how awesome it is that you all came out here today," Iris said smiling. "Now normally people may have some long winded speech in mind but you don't wanna hear that? You wanna watch me blow shit up!"

She reached out and whisked away the tarpaulin, casting it aside and revealing the weapon beneath. A single stand. Unpon it, resting in a mountable cradle, was a metallic gold and silver missile. Four guidance fins near the propulsion systems, and four more near the nose cone. The sides of the missile looked like they might fall away at a predesignated command. Iris stroked the metal with one hand and smiled.

"Is it better to be feared, or respected?" she asked the group at large rhetorically. "My dad asked me that a long time ago. I asked him, 'Why can't I have both?'" Iris smiled at the memory, recalling how her father had laughed at her response. Before returning to her audience, a small remote in her hand with a single, red button. "I hear that Princess Celestia has a belief that the best weapons are the ones you never have to fire. I have to respectfully disagree. The best weapon-" She glanced at her creation. "-is the one you have to fire, once!"

She waggled the remote in one hand before pressing the button harshly. The rockets at the base of the missile ignited and launched it from its cradle, and sent it careening into the distance.

"If you have a problem with some big shot warlord, one of these suckers is enough to make sure the bad guys wish they'd never got out of bed that morning," Iris smirked. "And that is a Stark Industries guarantee."

The panels on the missile's sides fell away and released dozens of smaller, but no doubt just as powerful, payloads, each one painted a different, metallic colour.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Iris called. The payload struck into a rocky hillside about a mile away. "I give you the Hydra."

The shock wave rolled over the dusty planes, kicking up loose sand and dirt in its wake. Iris smiled as she felt the unnatural wind billow past her, whisking her hair into a frenzy. There were cries from her audience as hats were knocked off and blown away. Iris saw one unfortunate individual have his toupee plucked straight from his head and carried off into the distance.

The dust settled and a small round of applause started as those who had lost hats bent down to pick them up. Iris gave a cocky smile and gave a mock bow. A case was brought out and set on a small side table. Its contents were revealed to be a series of champagne flutes and a bottle of the same liquid. Iris uncorked the bottle with practised movements and poured a glass for herself, raising it to her fellows.

"Act now and this comes standard," she remarked to general chuckles. She downed her glass and casually threw it over her shoulder where it smashed onto the ground. "Let's wrap this up shall we? I'm sure we all have better things to do than stand here all day."

She made her way quickly to her escort vehicle. Iris turned back to Spitfire who was approaching her. She quickly hopped into her seat.

"Get me outta here," she purred, reclining as best she could in her seat.

"Ma'am what about your friend?" asked the driver. Iris waved it away.

"It's not like she stranded out here," iris shrugged. "I'm sure she'll hitch a ride with someone."

"As you wish," the driver said. Iris leaned out the window and waved farewell to Spitfire. The older woman merely gave Iris a look that was halfway between death-glare and irritated amusement.

"I'll see you at the hotel!" she cried back at Spitfire like a giddy school girl. Spitfire maturely flipped Iris off.

The journey was hot and bumpy but Iris didn't mind. She sat back and listened to her iPod, bobbing her head to the music contained within. The soldiers sat their in a slightly awkward silence. Iris noticed this and rolled her eyes. She knew she'd have to put them at ease. Giving an internal sigh, she pulled out the headphones and turned to the soldier next to her.

"So why uptight? I feel like I did something wrong," Iris smiled, the small talk practically burning her tongue.

The soldier next to her jumped slightly. Iris tried not to roll her eyes. The nervous type obviously.

"Planning to jump ship kid?" Iris chuckled, "Come on I'm not that scary am I?"

"Of course not ma'am," the soldier smiled nervously. "Just, sort of on edge."

"All because of me? You charmer," Iris smiled, deciding she may as well have fun flirting with the young man. He blushed slightly as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. The soldier in the passenger seat at the front of the car gave a snort of laughter.

"He's working up the nerve to ask if he can have a picture with you," the other soldier called back. The first soldier blushed even brighter. Iris smiled, slightly touched at his shy nature.

"Sure, why not?" Iris smirked. "We don't have anything better to do. You got a camera kid?"

The soldier began to fumble in her pockets for said camera. Iris rolled her eyes and looked to front, jerking her head at her companion as if to say 'Can you believe this kid?' The soldier chuckled, before his head whipped around as the car in front of them exploded in a ball of flames. Iris sat up straight, whipping her sunglasses off, eyes bugging in her head.

"What the hell was that?" the soldier beside her cried. The car came to a swift halt, skidding on the dusty road. Iris opened her mouth to offer her opinion. A weapon that could destroy such a potent and armoured military transport vehicle would either have to be a single, high calibre bullet from a sniper rifle to the fuel tank, or an R.P.G. or other such rocket launcher. Either way, they were under fire.

The cab of the car suddenly rang as various dents appeared in the metal, the bullets that struck its surface ricocheting off without doing much damage. This made Iris think, her genius mind still working even in these desperate circumstances. Why had they so carelessly destroyed the car in front when they were wasting ammo on the one she was in? Were they hoping to pin them down until they reloaded?

"Corporal! Get the V.I.P. to safety!" cried the driver of the car. "Sergeant, you're coming with me!"

"Yes sir!" both men cried. The Corporal turned to Iris and began to shunt her out to the undamaged side of the car. Iris followed the instruction, forcing the door open and practically spilling out into the sunlight. The air was tainted by smoke and burning fuel and the heat seemed much more potent than before.

"This way ma'am!" the Corporal cried, setting off at a brisk jog back they way they had come, keeping low to the ground, drawing his firearm. Iris followed suit, keeping low and moving much more swiftly than the soldier, partly because she wasn't wearing all the equipment he was, and partly because she was wearing black in the desert. She couldn't have been more like a sore thumb than if she was standing naked on top of a hill, waving her arms and screaming 'Over here! I'm a sore thumb!'

A shot rang out, louder than the others, and the Corporal crumbled to the ground beside her. iris doubled back and crouched next to him, her fingers pressing against his neck, confirming what she already knew. The man had been dead before he had hit the ground. She got back to her feet and began running much more swiftly, still trying to keep as low as possible.

A hail of bullets struck the ground a few feet ahead of her and she hit the ground hard, rolling up against a ridge of rock for shelter. The bullets stopped. Iris looked at the sky. Was it over?

Something heavy landed next to her. She looked at it. It was some kind of cylinder, half buried in the dirt, testimony to the speed with which it had impacted the ground and its weight. It took Iris a few moments to decipher the words written on the side.

'Stark Industries.'

iris put two and two together in a heartbeat.

"Shit!" she cried, scrambling to her feet an eternity too late. She managed to put a few paces between her and the bomb, before it exploded, sending Iris into a whirlwind of darkness, red and pain.