Doc Bronze had naturally known Captains Rogers and Carter a very long time, having met them during the war and kept in regular contact since. They all had roles to play in bringing humanity forwards, as soldiers would be needed for threats within and without the blue orb hovering in space beyond the great dome above him.
He opened the text message and read it carefully, smiling at the recounting of current events, family contacts, and the upcoming reunion of the Veterans.
The meat of the message, the inquiry about the origins of one of her trainees, brought a moment of concern to him. A human running around wearing alien technology was inherently an unstable situation. Alien tech, especially the advanced stuff, tended to work on biological and spiritual levels not attuned to humans, and things often went wrong, with deadly results.
He studied the blue and gold image of the young man in his uniform, and fed it into the database compiled from records traded and captured from a dozen alien civilizations.
The recognition was almost immediate, primarily from the Kree and Skrull databases.
Xandar. A target of conquest by the Skrulls. Possessed of extremely advanced AI computer technology the Skrull desired, as well as a powerful force or entity, a source of power for their Nova Corps, a famous interstellar police and military force that guarded the space and systems around their homeworld of Xandar.
Xandar seemed to possess power and awareness beyond its relative size, and there were multiple notes of attempted infiltrations and invasions, beaten back by the power of the Nova Corps. Xandar had withstood the Skrull Empire without falling under the rule of the Skrulls’ Kree enemies, a singular accomplishment.
The extrasolar area of study was largely kept up by Primus, who would have more direct knowledge of the subject. The basic one-sun uniform displayed to him now was a standard Nova Corpsman uniform, basically the equivalent of a beat cop or infantry soldier, depending on how you saw the organization. The one Nova was using was actually one of their early officer ranks, a Centurion.
Paragon called Uncle Piotr over to see if there were any complications dealing with this issue.
The World’s Greatest Hero zipped over casually from where he was engaged in stellar research and monitoring, building ever-finer detection devices to sense threats from beyond, and also keeping track of events on Earth through multiple channels. That he was Russian-born meant nothing to the States-born Paragon; Primus was just like an uncle to him, his father having been friends with him during World War I, and he was treated as an extended member of the Savage family.
“Piotr, I’ve a request from Peggy down in New York. Anything going on with the Nova Corps, from Xandar? It seems some of their technology has made it down to Earth.”
The bearded Russian scanned the request and file Peggy had sent over, nodded, and began sifting rapidly through the data on the Xandarans with some familiarity, indicating he’d reviewed it before. “The Ghost Ship,” he pronounced, bringing up an image.
Clark stared at it thoughtfully, a cool prickle tickling his skin.
The mile-long ship had ghosted into place around Earth about a year back, and they wouldn’t even have broken its cloak if there hadn’t been a single energy discharge from it, headed towards America’s East Coast. Phoenix had tracked back the discharge and managed to uncover the ship, but there had been no response to hails or challenges. It had powered down completely, save for its cloak.
It was basically cold and dead, drifting in space, with no signs of life that magic, psionics, or science could detect.
Primus continued jumping through files, and brought up a spread of Xandaran vessels from the Skrull files, comparing them to the still-unknown ghost ship.
“Looks like a recent variant, perhaps on its maiden voyage, so it’s not in the primary files,” Primus guessed, seeing no actual match, but both of them could see some shared design elements.
The passive cloaking was powerful enough to thwart magical divinations, but not enough to stop Locus, who they’d brought in from the Champions, from sensing some ominous tidings if they breached the ship.
A genetic profile was brought up on the Xandarans. They looked amazingly similar to humans, although their skin tones had much wider play, probably from their own interactions with alien cultures. Definitely green-zone, capable of interbreeding with humans without artificial intervention.
“Generally an upright, honest, fairly noble and law-abiding people, albeit they have a hereditary ruling line and make use of cloning technology to bodyjump and stave off death,” Primus read on. “They can thus recover rapidly from losses in war, hold onto their experiences, and adapt quickly to challenges. It seems to be the main reason the Skrulls can’t infiltrate them, as killing and replacing a native alerts their Rebirth system, and they come to investigate.”
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“Intriguing.” Being able to go back to youth again meant that Xandarans lived multiple lifetimes, and had multiple families and mates across those lifetimes. As long as the Rebirth technology stayed intact, the Xandarans could both maintain their population and swell their numbers quickly... but as an enlightened civilization, had not gone about the process of conquering to gain more space to do so, instead constructing orbital arcologies to live in.
They had a fairly positive reputation, but who knew how they would react to one of their ships being dead in orbit around Earth, and a Terran flying about in the uniform of their revered defenders?
Primus was displaying more information about them. “See here. Look at the power level gradings between ranks.”
Clark matched what he was reading on the young man with Skrull and Kree assessments on more senior Nova Corps members. The Supreme Centurions had a power rating that gave even Primus pause.
“Lantern, information request. What’s your people’s assessment on the Nova Corps of the Xandarans?” he asked through their coms system.
The Korlugi Peacekeeper’s reply was fairly quick. “The Nova Corps is empowered by the Cosmic Force they are named after. Upper levels of power among the Corps are perhaps comparable to your own, Primus. However, this is an earned status, not one simply dropped on them, and it is unknown if there is a limit to how many of the Nova Corps can be empowered at that level by the Nova Force.
“There may, in fact, not be a limit, and it is limited only by the Xandarans themselves.
“They maintain their influence only within your galaxy, and indeed, the space directly around their home system. The Lanterns saw no need to watch their space, and have basically let them alone on cordial grounds of mutual recognition.
“Their animosity with the Skrulls and various pirate groups is well-known among the local galactic cultures, as is their prized independence and respect for other galactic powers, as long as their own are respected.
“They are an excellent people to open dealings with, in my judgement, if somewhat far away. Why are you inquiring about them, if I may ask?” the alien wondered politely.
“The Ghost Ship is one of theirs, and there’s a young man running around in New York City wearing one of their uniforms, Zhuli,” Paragon answered him.
“Interesting. I’ve no knowledge of a non-Xandaran ever being admitted to the Nova Corps. It is effectively their most elite military and law-enforcement organization combined. How much access does he have to the Nova Force?” was the prompt reply.
“By the information sent to us, he's just a baseline Corpsman by all standards.”
There was a moment of contemplation from the other end, and then a sigh. “In the end, I can only suspect Skrull treachery, my fellow High Guards.”
Clark glanced at Piotr, who nodded agreement. “Alerting the Xandarans may also alert the Skrulls, and bring their war here, Zhuli,” he said carefully.
“I do not rule out that possibility, and it would seem likely. Also, a minor note. The ghost ship is a carrier vessel for humanoids, not a battleship, nor a starship carrier. It may have been intended for use as a colony ship of sorts, or as a mobile base of operations for their armed forces. We do not know, and will not unless we crack the ship open.”
“The self-destruct on a vessel that large would wipe out a hemisphere. We can’t risk it,” Primus denied instantly.
“I concur. There is already an unseemly amount of foreign intervention on your world, and it seems that the more you fight it off, the wider the net of those casting their eyes on you,” the Lantern commented.
Having a Lantern based here helped. The Korlugi had told them his superiors had indicated the planet was going to be a nexus of cosmic events, and stationed him here to do his best. A skilled Lantern could easily deal with a pirate group or small invading fleet, and they knew it.
The major players just worked around them. Lanterns could not, of course, be everywhere, especially as an intergalactic organization. Space was simply too big. Having more than one or two active in a minor galaxy was already incredible.
“Send Peggy the information, but tell her to tread carefully. The full force of the Skrulls would put us into a very bad situation. We’re already dealing with them getting curious about the Inhumans after so many centuries, and now this comes up,” Primus sighed.
“You want to tell them, or shall I?” Clark offered, his voice having that special tone.
“I’ll do it. They’ve been warning us of what’s going to happen with interstellar events for years, and this was one of them.” Primus shook his head. “The old man is not going to be happy about this.”
Paragon smiled. Primus was already ninety. Him calling the Great Bear an old man was actually rather funny.
He was fairly certain the Big Two actually knew all this already, given how they seemed to know everything happening before it did, and as always, he wondered what their sources of information were...
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-What do you think?- the stolid, almost solid figure in the Markspace /asked, while the space around him hummed with blurs of words and sounds, monitored without effort, giving him impressions of the world he could focus on or agglomerate into a bigger overall picture as he decided.
The Fate of the World pumped through him with every breath and heartbeat he took, reverberated into everything around him, and down to those Sworn to him, steering the course of the planet’s destiny.
-Six months to three years to Galactus, tops,- was the terse /reply. -Shit will hit the fan as soon as we send the big guy off. Everybody is going to want to know how we did it. If the Celestials get involved, it will be even worse, especially if they just up and leave.-
-Get Ben Parker that new job?-
-He started last week.-
-Excellent. When the waves come, we can only break them, you old hag.-
-Keep that river running, Fuzzy!- was the cackle in /reply, and he smiled grimly in response as she returned to whatever schemes she was working through.
Plans within plans within plans, all with a light touch, and shepherding the world onto a better and brighter path... because the path it had been destined for was one of multiple obliterations and recreations, and that definitely was not survivable for a certain pair of someones...
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