Several weeks had passed since Max began his ambitious space ventures. The small station he'd constructed in Earth's orbit was finally complete. It floated invisibly among the stars, cloaked by a powerful energy shield that made it imperceptible to any Earth-based sensors or satellites. The station was sleek, modern, with a design that echoed the technology of Stargate Atlantis. The exterior was made of dark, metallic panels that shimmered faintly under the distant glow of the sun, and the structure boasted sharp angles and intricate geometrical patterns, giving it a distinctly alien look.
Max hovered nearby in his Puddle Jumper, admiring his handiwork. The station was small compared to what he had planned for the Jupiter shipyard, but it was a monumental achievement nonetheless. The docking ports could accommodate up to seven Puddle Jumpers simultaneously, and the station housed three fully equipped laboratories, seven sleeping chambers, and a robust communication array capable of transmitting messages through subspace to distant systems in real-time. It had artificial gravity, and more importantly, the Naquadah reactor powering it was highly efficient, allowing the station to remain operational indefinitely.
Max pressed a button on his control panel, and the cloaking field flickered off for a moment, revealing the full structure to his eyes. He admired the elegant lines and the seamless integration of magic and technology that had made the station possible. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.
He docked his Puddle Jumper at one of the open ports and floated down into the docking bay, stepping onto the cool metallic floor. The station's artificial gravity engaged, pulling him down lightly, though it wasn't strong enough to make walking a strain. He flicked his wrist, activating a small control panel on his wrist device, and toggled the gravity setting, grinning as he felt himself lift off the floor, floating weightlessly for a few seconds.
"This never gets old," he muttered to himself, chuckling as he did a slow flip in mid-air. Then, with a press of the button, the gravity snapped back on, and he landed softly on his feet.
He explored the station, walking through the wide hallways, the faint hum of the Naquadah reactor filling the air. The labs were pristine, outfitted with the most advanced equipment he had designed. They were ready for anything—chemical experiments, quantum mechanics, magical research. Each room was carefully shielded to prevent cross-contamination of any sort. The sleeping quarters were small but comfortable, lined with beds and storage compartments for whoever might use the station in the future.
Finally, he made his way to the central hub where the communication array was located. The sleek panels hummed softly as he checked the readings. Subspace signals were clear, and his station could now communicate with anything—or anyone—across the galaxy without the need for any relay points.
Satisfied with his tour, Max headed back to the docking bay and climbed into his Puddle Jumper. But before leaving, he walked over to the corner of the bay where a smaller Stargate was installed. The gate shimmered slightly as it powered up, ready to connect to its counterpart in his Alchemy Lab. He locked in the coordinates, watched the event horizon form, and then flew the Puddle Jumper through the gate, arriving smoothly back in his lab.
The moment he was inside, Max parked the Puddle Jumper and headed toward the second bay where another Puddle Jumper awaited. He needed this extra craft for the next phase of his project: constructing the shipyard station near Jupiter.
Max's hands moved swiftly, and with practiced ease, he docked the second Puddle Jumper onto his primary ship. After a few checks, he flew through the Stargate that linked his lab with the orbit around Jupiter. The journey was instantaneous, and soon, he was back in the vastness of space, with Jupiter's massive form looming in the background.
Max positioned the second Puddle Jumper a safe distance from the Stargate, releasing it into the void. Then, using a remote control device, he activated the beam technology that had been installed inside the Puddle Jumper—his most recent advancement, inspired by the Asgard tech from the Stargate series. The device emitted a faint blue glow, and slowly, methodically, raw materials from the nearby asteroid belt began to beam into place.
Chunks of metal, stone, and valuable elements were disassembled at a molecular level and transported into the construction zone. Max watched intently as beams of energy formed into precise lines, laying the foundation for the shipyard station. The station began to take shape—first, the skeletal framework, then the outer hull, slowly expanding as more materials were integrated into the design.
The station would be enormous once completed. It would dwarf the Earth station he had just built, capable of housing and constructing multiple starships simultaneously. Each new segment floated into place with eerie precision, assembling itself under the careful guidance of the beam technology. Max estimated that it would take about a month for the entire station to be completed, but the process was already well underway.
He watched the construction for a few more minutes, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Once this shipyard was operational, his capacity for building would increase exponentially. He could automate the construction of future stations, ships, and projects, leaving him free to focus on other pursuits—like his upcoming Zero Point Module project.
Satisfied that everything was in motion, Max took one last look at the expanding shipyard and activated the controls to return to his lab. His mind was already racing with new ideas, projects that could push the boundaries of science and magic even further.
Back on Earth
While Max's cosmic endeavors unfolded in space, Tony Stark was facing his own challenges. After his daring rescue in Gulmira, he had returned to his Malibu villa. His mission to take down the terrorists had been successful—he had obliterated the Stark weapons they were using, avenging Yinsen's death and saving countless lives. But it hadn't come without a cost.
Tony's body ached as he stripped off the battered Iron Man suit in his workshop. The suit had taken significant damage during the mission. The U.S. jets that had pursued him had left multiple scorch marks and deep dents in the armor. As the chestplate fell to the ground with a heavy thud, Tony winced, rubbing his sore shoulders.
He barely had time to process what had happened before the workshop doors slid open, and Pepper Potts stormed in, her expression a mixture of fury and concern.
"Tony! What the hell happened to you?" she exclaimed, her eyes darting to the damaged suit.
Tony groaned, waving a hand dismissively. "Relax, it's just a few scratches. The suit held up fine."
"Scratches?" Pepper's voice rose, incredulous. "You're covered in soot, and that suit looks like it's been through a war. What were you thinking?"
Tony tried to brush off her concern with his usual bravado, but Pepper wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, her eyes locked onto his, demanding answers.
"Tony, you can't keep doing this. Running off, risking your life without telling anyone. Do you even realize how dangerous that was? What if something had gone wrong?"
"I knew exactly what I was doing," Tony replied, though the weariness in his voice betrayed him. "I had to do it, Pep. Those terrorists were using my weapons. I had to make it right."
Pepper shook her head, her frustration growing. "And what about Yinsen? Do you think this is what he would have wanted? You're not invincible, Tony. You can't keep acting like you are."
At the mention of Yinsen, Tony's expression darkened. The memory of Yinsen's execution was still fresh in his mind, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. "I owe Yinsen," he muttered quietly. "I had to go back. I had to stop them." A few hours earlier Yinsen died. Yinsen wanted to build graves for his family in his homeland and Tony came late to save him this time.
Pepper's gaze softened, but only slightly. "I get that. I really do. But you didn't even tell me where you were going. You could've died out there, Tony. And then what? Who's going to clean up the mess you leave behind?"
Tony, still exhausted from the mission, rubbed his temples. "Pep, I'm fine. I'm back, and the mission's done. That's what matters."
"No, Tony," she shot back. "What matters is that you keep putting yourself in harm's way. And for what? Some mission of revenge? You're smarter than this."
There was a tense silence between them before Pepper spoke again, her voice quieter but no less sharp. "Have you even thought about Max?"
Tony blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Max?"
"Yes, Max," Pepper repeated, her eyes narrowing. "You know, the person who's supposedly your son? The person you've been avoiding ever since you found out?"
Tony opened his mouth to argue but found himself at a loss for words. It was true—he hadn't reached out to Max since the blood test results had confirmed their connection. He'd buried himself in work, in missions, anything to avoid dealing with the reality of having a son he barely knew.
Pepper took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. "Tony, are you risking your life because you don't want to face him? Is that it?"
"I'm not avoiding him," Tony said defensively, though he knew it wasn't entirely true. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him.
"Then what's stopping you? You've been through worse. You can handle this."
Tony sighed heavily, finally sitting down on a nearby stool. "I… I don't know what to say to him. What do I even say to a kid who's supposed to be my son?"
Pepper knelt in front of him, her tone softening. "Just be honest, Tony. He's not expecting you to be perfect. Just… reach out. Talk to him."
Tony stared at the floor for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright. I'll call him. Tomorrow."
Pepper smiled slightly, though her concern was still evident. "Good. But no more flying off on revenge missions, okay?"
Tony gave her a tired grin. "No promises."