Agency: United Registry for the Bureau of Unnatural New Zealand
Classification: LEVEL 1
Incident ID: URB-355-1/3 [Shooting for the Stars]
Incident Date: [12/12/2024]
Date Logged: [20/09/2025]
Location(s): N/A
Subjects Involved:
- Subject A: DARCY DANIELS (ASTRO)
- Subject B: LUCINDA BARNES (MERCURY)
- Civilian: PARKER EVANS (see profile)
- Field Agent(s) / Analyst: N/A
- Logged by: L. ROSHBY
Report Type:
- Observation
- Debrief Summary
- Witness Account
- Narrative Analysis
- Surveillance Capture
- Unverified Lore Fragment
- Other – Journalism Article
Report Body:
[DOCUMENT ATTACHED: FEATURE SPREAD IN THE NEW ZEALAND HERALD]
SHOOTING FOR THE STARS: A MOMENT WITH ASTRO
Part one of three that looks into the life of New Zealand’s premier superhero.
The now iconic image was splashed across newspapers nationwide for weeks after the attack on the Beehive. A woman standing in what can only be described as a superhero pose, hands up, braced and ready for a fight. Brunette hair gleams in the sun, brown eyes fierce. The clearly home-made outfit does nothing to distract from her obvious beauty.
But that’s not what makes the photo stand out.
It’s the gash on her forehead. Blood is running under her mask, onto her cheek. It’s the numerous fight marks on her bare skin. It’s the steely look, the rugged determination that radiates from every inch of her being. Not to mention the fact that she is readily defending a group of kids from what would have been a vicious attack. She is prepared to stand up for what is right, to defend with her life. She is a force to be reckoned with. She is a hero.
To the rest of the country, and most of the world, she is Astro. Curvaceous heroine, brave fighter. She’s a symbol of justice and hope and a figure sorely needed in today’s chaotic society. She soars fearlessly above the city and her shields are a glorious sight to behold. She guarantees protection wherever she is found.
The twenty-something woman beneath the mask sits curled up in an old armchair, dark hair loosely tied back in a braid. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of denim shorts, looking tired but alert. It’s a far cry from the costume that she’s more well known by, but it does nothing to diminish the power that lies beneath the casual exterior.
The normally camera-shy Darcy Daniels has invited me into her home for what is the first look into the life of the hero since she revealed herself as Astro a year and a half ago. She has already made me feel well at home. When I first arrive in the cosy loft apartment, I am greeted with a bright smile and a nearly-too-tight hug. I’m offered my pick of the many, many different teas she has hidden away in her cupboards. It’s quite impressive really. If the hero thing doesn’t work out, she has all the makings of a quality tea-shop owner.
With mugs in hand, we settle in the lounge. An eclectic array of furniture surrounds us that somehow manages to meld together in a cohesive blur of colour and patterns. The space perfectly encapsulates the woman that lives in it.
“So Ms Daniels…” She stops me before I can get another word out, holding up a perfectly manicured hand in protest. I compliment her on the colour. Deep red with tiny blue stars. She thanks me with a laugh before telling me to call her Darcy.
“You’re in my home, I think we’re on that level.” We continue, and it becomes clear that this is a very onto-it woman I am talking to. She exudes calm, a strong sense of self assurance that seeps out into everything around her. A wry but sharp sense of humour heightens the sense that this woman can adapt to any situation, whether it be out wining and dining politicians or sitting at the pub eating pizza with the common folk.
Darcy breaks out a photo album, and I flip through it as we talk. The pages are well worn, slightly frayed around the edges. Fingerprints smudge over many of the photos. One in particular of two girls, the blonde one grinning and the dark haired one pouting, dolled up to the nines in fancy ball gowns, seems to be especially well loved.
“That was our high school ball. I hadn’t wanted to go but she dragged me along, made me dress up so I wouldn’t embarrass her.” I pause. The two girls look younger than anyone around them. “We were a year or so below everyone else, but it never mattered to us. She was so talented back then, still is. Honestly.” Darcy pauses, a look in her eyes that could almost be read as guilt. “She had this gift for chemistry, for the biology of things. She knew the way things would work together, how they’d react and what they’d produce. I mean, sure, I have a flair for the mechanical stuff but what she did, I could never get the hang of it. I tried a few times, but never could.”
Despite the animosity between the two, it is clear that Darcy still holds a begrudging respect for the other woman. It’s an odd dynamic to imagine in real life, a former friend turned foe. In the movies it would play out like standard fare. The dastardly villain is turned back to the light by their former friend-turned-hero. But this is real life. Reality hardly ever plays out as easily as it does on the big screen. Darcy pauses, face growing grim before continuing.
“There was something else there. I know how incredibly cliché it sounds, but there were shadows in her. Something dark. It started with little comments, little experiments that bordered on dangerous. Those grew into bigger experiments with even darker thoughts behind them. It wasn’t exactly malicious, per se, it was just…” She struggles with how to put it into words. “I guess it was this burning desire to just see if she could. See if she could build a death ray, see what could happen if she created a mind-control device. Whether her experiments came at the cost of someone else, well, that was always secondary to the science.” It’s apparent that a chaos-inclined mind paired with a strong, burning curiosity was a combination that could only lead to disaster.
Not much else is known about the criminal known as Mercury. Darcy is cagey on the topic, with good reason. It is now common knowledge that Astro and Mercury grew up as friends. The duo remained so throughout their entire education. Throughout primary and high school, they even survived university and a semester abroad at MIT together. Eventually their paths separated, and the women came to find themselves at opposing ends of the moral spectrum.
To explain the relationship between the two we need to go back to when they were known simply as Darcy Daniels and Lucinda Barnes, two girls who met for the first time on the primary school playground. With Darcy’s mother never in the picture, it led to a nomadic life for father and daughter. Travelling lots, living in many places, they made it work.
“I didn’t really know anything different. It wasn’t really a big deal. I mean, sure, it was always a bit of a sad moment, you know, when you have to leave your friends and your house. But I was just a kid, I like to think I adapted pretty well.” She reaches over and plucks a frame off the small coffee table beside her. She hands it to me. Under a pohutukawa tree in full bloom, a young Darcy stands beside a man who must be her father. The same dark curly hair, the same warm eyes. Matching grins light up their faces as they mug for the camera. It’s a picture of bliss, utter happiness caught in a single frame.
“My dad made it into an adventure. Any time we’d have to pack up and move, it was always this grand thing. We were explorers going to a new country, we were a king and princess visiting a new land. It was never boring, and it was the same when we moved to Taranaki.” She smiles into her chai.
Darcy was eight years old when her father moved them to Toko, a small village ten kilometres east of the nearest town of Stratford. They settled well into the tiny farming community. Her father was principal at the local primary school where Darcy attended and the two became a staple of school life.
“That must have been a bit weird?”
Darcy laughs, nodding her agreement.
“Yeah, it definitely was at first. But then you get used to it. I remember I wasn’t allowed to call him ‘Dad’ at school, it had to be ‘Mr. Daniels’ or ‘Sir’. After a while I started calling him Mr. Daniels everywhere, even at home.” Her bark of laughter is infectious, and I soon find myself chuckling along with her.
It’s not long after Darcy starts school that she makes a large circle of friends, fitting in like she had been there from the very start. One girl in particular catches her eye, and the two become especially close. With a shared passion for the sciences and a particular interest in causing mischief, the two are inseparable almost from the day they meet. It’s at this tiny school that eight-year-old Darcy Daniels meets nine-year-old Lucinda Barnes, the girl who would be her best friend, her confidant, her sister in all but blood. She would be the person Darcy ran to when things went wrong and celebrated with when things went right. The two couldn’t have been more close. They went through everything together, one rarely without the other. Knowing their history and hearing it from Darcy herself, it’s almost unbelievable to know that now Lucinda is Darcy’s long-time and most persistent nemesis.
A knock on the door interrupts us. I can see Darcy shift immediately, from casual friend to dangerous defender. Her stance is immediately on edge, and I can tell by the firm set of her jaw that she is expecting something to happen. I guess in her line of work it pays to err on the side of caution. She pads silently over to look through the peephole a moment before yanking the door open.
It’s a courier dropping off a number of packages. The two chat, exchanging pleasantries and smiles. Judging by Darcy’s now at ease stance, she’s more than familiar with this particular gentleman. I wave when she points me out and overhear her explaining who I am. A soft giggle on her part, a warm grin on his, and they say goodbye. The door closes and Darcy strolls back into the lounge, arms full. There’s a slight bounce to her step now.
I waggle my eyebrows at her as she dumps her loot onto the coffee table. Red begins to colour her cheeks. It’s good to know even superheroes have their tells. She takes the teasing in good nature though, and caves when I enquire about any potential suitors.
“Who’s he?” I ask, nodding my head towards the door where the dark haired courier had stood moments before. She grins.
“That’s James. He delivers my mail.” No duh. But by mail, she doesn’t mean the occasional package or letter. Darcy points out a couple of canvas sacks sitting in the corner. “One of those comes every few weeks. I try and get through as much as I can, but it just seems to be piling up.” Her voice is tinged with a sort of humble confusion, as though she can’t quite believe why people would want to send her fan letters. “And see these?” She motions to the pile of packages. “James comes by at least twice a week with another armful of these. The mail started not long after that day at the Beehive. And it’s kind of never really stopped.”
On the topic of the January 2015 attack, I ask just how she managed to stave off Mercury that first time. After all, it wasn’t like there had been a precedent for it in New Zealand. Sure, at present there are other metahumans that would be classed as super in the world. A few in America, Europe, there is even word of an underground vigilante roaming the streets in Perth. But apart from a few rumours about a mysterious figure snatching bad guys on the streets, nothing had come overly close to our shores. That is, until the day Mercury had taken to the streets with her attack, and Astro had risen up in defense.
“Lucinda was a huge nerd when she was younger. She loved all sorts of strategy games, those Tower Defense games, ‘Bloons’ and the like. We spent way too many hours playing Risk, trying to outwit each other. She’s never really changed her tactics, I guess they’re now just on a slightly larger scale.” A small smile appears, tinged with sadness and a nostalgia that hints at happier times. With a shake of her head she stands.
“More tea?” Darcy motions to where my cup sits, half full and nearly cold. I instead ask for a coffee, and she moves to put the jug on.
“Why do you do it?” I ask. She stops in her tracks.
“Do what?” The question has taken her by surprise.
Is it personal? A sense of duty? An obligation to a former friend? After all, Darcy is always willing to help out wherever she’s needed, whether it be an attack by Mercury or a kitten stuck up a tree.
Darcy shifts uncomfortably, and returns to her seat as the jug boils, pulling a blanket around her like a shield. Guilt flashes over the previously collected exterior, betraying her true feelings on the topic. She’s speaking softly now, shoulders heavy.
“It’s a mix of all of that.” She pauses, looking down, organising her thoughts. “I’ve known Lucinda since I was eight years old. Over eighteen years. You really get to know a person in that time. I saw something in Lucinda but I guess I never really wanted to properly confront it.” A sigh, and Darcy looks up. “She was my friend. My best friend! And she’s choosing to do these terrible things, and I know that it’s not my fault, not really, but somehow I can’t help but think that maybe I should have done something, anything, so that she didn’t end up the way she did.” She stops. A long moment passes before she continues. She’s quieter now, more weary. “And to have these powers, to be able to do the things I can do and not do anything to help? To sit idly by and watch as horrific things happen? Yeah, no, that… that would be the truly criminal thing.”
Only a very few people know the true extent of Darcy’s powers. She doesn’t tell me who they are. Nor does she tell me just exactly what the accident triggered inside of her. Darcy does tell me that she has acquired superhuman abilities. Her mind-boggling strength has been shown on more than one occasion. Her breathtaking shields have also been put on display, though whether those are man-made or biochemically gifted is still up for debate.
We’ve moved out to the balcony, overlooking the waterfront in Wellington’s CBD, and Darcy has given in to my pleading to tell me a little of how her lesser known talents work. Darcy runs back inside and plucks a package off the table. She begins to turn it in her hands.
“Feeling the intentions of people is the best way of putting it.” I ask if she can read people’s minds. A vehement shake of her head is the reply.
“No, of course not! Nothing like that. It’s kinda like a Spidey sense, you know, just not as strong?” It seems like a pretty odd description, but as she puts it into action it starts to make sense.
“It’s nothing concrete, just vibes and subtle emotions. It hints at whether a person has good or bad intentions. Usually it’s not too powerful.” She shakes the package a little, and smiles. “This one here? It’s not too strong. There’s no bad feelings from this at all. Only good stuff.” Tearing it open, we find a printed t-shirt that reads ‘Astro Fan Club’ and a pile of sweet treats and candy. We trade amused grins as Darcy unwraps a caramel and pops it in her mouth. “My favourites. Sometimes though, the vibe is nearly overpowering with how strong it is. Those intentions, especially the strong ones, can seep into other things as well.” It’s an interesting talent, and less morally questionable than reading people’s minds. I say as much, and she agrees.
“It’s definitely helped me out on more than one occasion, I’ll tell you that much.”
___________________________________
A loud bang cuts our interview short. We still, Darcy supernaturally so, head cocked to the side, listening. I’m not sure exactly what is happening. Another bang follows, this time accompanied by the distant echoes of people screaming. Darcy sends me an apologetic smile before dashing back into her house to suit up. I head to the kitchen, placing our cups into the bright blue dishwasher before going to collect my gear. Darcy returns, and I turn to find her decked out in her usual garb. Only this outfit has been modified, glammed up a bit. She stops only to give me a quick squeeze followed by a hurried goodbye that cuts off any queries about her new suit.
“We’ll continue this another day, yeah?”
I nod my agreement, and follow her out to the balcony. With a lazy wave and a parting grin she takes off, flying low around the office buildings and apartment blocks.
Darcy Daniels – a.k.a. Astro a.k.a. New Zealand’s first superhero – is a woman who embodies the very spirit of New Zealand, and everything we could and should be. Sure, she’s not perfect, she has her faults. Who doesn’t? This only shows that she’s human like the rest of us. But she’s also brave, humble, loyal to a fault. And most importantly, she’s kind.
The willingness to defend and to do what is right no matter the personal cost, that’s what elevates her to hero status. She’s a person who inspires others to greatness simply by being around them. I’m sure that if we ever need it, she’ll be there to help no matter what. That devotion, that dedication, to the people and to the country? You can’t put a price on that. And that’s why we’re lucky to have Astro watching our backs. She’s a light in the darkness, a beacon of hope. And she’s not going anywhere.
Article by Parker Evans
Parker is a web-designer by and award-winning journalist also by day. They currently guest lecture at Victoria University.
END REPORT.
Observations / Notes:
- Civilian is surprisingly close to Subject A. Will continue surveillance from afar to assess long-term security risks.
- Part 1 of 3. Will track subsequent parts.
- Civilian is an excellent lecturer. Consider them for covert consultation and profiling.
United Registry for the Bureau of Unnatural New Zealand 
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