"So," Peter began, his voice tight with frustration as he stared at his teammates through the ship's comms screen, "we spend all that time fighting through a Kree temple, and you just… took their entire hip?" He threw his hands up. "Seriously? You make the rest of us look like we were playing in the sand."
The sentiment was shared, a palpable wave of disbelief washing over the team. It was like being a forward on a football team, battling through a brutal defensive line only to miss the shot, then turning around to see your goalkeeper kick the ball clear across the field and score. It was impressive, but also deeply humbling.
"How on earth did you manage that?" Felicia asked, her voice a mixture of awe and professional curiosity.
Steve, ever the leader, pushed the tactical debrief aside for a moment. "Are you alright, Bucky? Report."
"No injuries," the Winter Soldier's voice crackled back, calm and professional. "But… hold on, what are you doing?" His tone shifted, a hint of confusion creeping in before a new, much sharper voice hijacked the channel.
"Hey! The name's Rocket!" the voice chirped, full of swagger. "And for the record, most of the credit for taking this bucket of bolts belongs to me!"
A deep, rumbling groan echoed in the background.
"I know you got the highest body count, Groot!" Rocket snapped impatiently. "Now zip it, I'm negotiating!" He cleared his throat, his tone shifting into that of a seasoned, back-alley arms dealer. "Listen, I know you're the crew from the Plumbers. Since I couldn't get my hands on that glowy orb, I was wonderin'… you interested in buying this ship?"
As one of the three great empires of the galaxy, the Kree Empire's technology was second to none. Ronan's Accuser Corps was their most elite military force, meaning the Dark Aster was packed with some of the most advanced and destructive hardware in known space.
While Peter and the others were in no position to make that kind of deal, Ben had been listening in from his location. He was already streaking back toward their ship, breaking the sound barrier several times over. As he approached, he slowed, deactivating his transformation before the others could see. It was an old habit, a subconscious act of secrecy, even though he no longer cared who knew.
Felicia opened the hatch, and Ben stepped inside, looking as if he'd just returned from a casual stroll. He walked straight to the comms panel.
"Let's talk price," Ben said, his voice cool and steady. "One billion units."
"One billion?" Rocket squawked indignantly. "Are you kidding me? I could make more than that selling this thing for scrap! The phasers alone are worth half a bil' on the black market!"
He was exaggerating, but not by much. If dismantled and sold piece by piece, the advanced Kree technology would fetch a fortune, easily netting several billion units. From Rocket's perspective, having no idea what the Orb truly was, a state-of-the-art Kree warship was infinitely more valuable than some mystical paperweight.
"You might be right," Ben conceded smoothly. "But the credit for capturing the flagship isn't yours alone. Bucky is a member of the Plumbers, which means you're entitled to a finder's fee, not the full price. It's one billion, or we can let the Kree know who's flying their missing ship."
Rocket grumbled for a moment. He knew Ben was right. The ship's value was one thing, but finding a buyer willing to risk the wrath of the entire Kree Empire was another. He and Groot had only succeeded because the ship's narrow corridors had limited the number of soldiers they had to face at once, allowing Groot to sweep them aside like bowling pins. The Kree hadn't dared use their heavy weapons for fear of damaging their own ship. It was a victory of circumstance, not overwhelming force.
"Fine! Deal!" Rocket finally relented, rubbing his paws together greedily. "Cash, or…?"
"Cash," Ben confirmed, firing up his ship engines. The small ship leaped into the void. "Follow us to Sakaar to collect."
Inside the cabin, Star-Lord's ears perked up at the mention of a billion-unit payout. His own mission had been a spectacular failure. He'd not only come away empty-handed, but Ronan's violent extraction of the temple from the seabed had also destroyed his ship, the Milano. He had, as the old Earth saying went, lost everything but the lint in his pockets.
He sidled up to Ben, putting on his most charmingly pathetic expression and wringing his hands. "Uhm… so, about that orb… I helped a little, you know…"
Before Ben could even respond, Peter, his face a mask of simmering rage, launched himself across the cabin. He tackled Star-Lord to the ground, his fists flying.
"You dare say that?" Peter roared, pinning him down. "If it wasn't for your clumsy interference, I would have had the Orb and been off the planet before Ronan even showed up! The only thing you helped was the enemy!"
"Hey! Not the face! Stop hitting the face!" Star-Lord yelped, trying to shield himself.
The rest of the team watched, their opinions of the newcomer plummeting to absolute zero. He had single-handedly jeopardized their one and only objective. T'Challa's lips thinned in disapproval, and even Steve made no move to intervene.
"So, the Power Stone is still in Ronan's possession?" T'Challa asked, his brow furrowed with concern. Their knowledge of space politics was limited, but they knew Ronan and Thanos were aligned. The stone falling into the Accuser's hands was tantamount to giving it directly to the Mad Titan.
"Ben?" Steve looked over, his expression grim.
In response, Ben simply held out his hand. A black sphere materialized above his palm, its nanite shell dissolving away to reveal the pulsating, violet gem nestled within. The raw, untamable energy of the Power Stone filled the cabin with an amethyst glow.
Felicia leaned closer, her silver eyes reflecting the stone's hypnotic light. She subconsciously reached out, a moth drawn to a cosmic flame, but Ben quickly caught her wrist.
"Don't," he warned softly. "Not everyone can touch these things." Even the thin layer of her advanced combat suit might not be enough to protect her from its overwhelming power.
"Wait," Peter said, peeling himself off of a groaning Star-Lord. He pressed his face to the viewport, pointing down at the planet below. "If that's the Power Stone… then what's that?"
Everyone followed his gaze. From the surface of Morag, an immense beam of purple energy erupted, so bright it was visible from orbit. Down there, Ronan, having finally broken free from his icy prison, stood with his war hammer held high, the fake Power Stone on its head blazing with a furious, borrowed light.
"That," Ben said with a faint, knowing smile, "is also the Power Stone." He offered no further explanation as he reactivated the nanite container, concealing the real stone. "Let's go home."
With the Messenger in the lead, the captured Kree ship lumbered into formation. Under the bewildered gazes of the remaining Kree fleet, the two ships turned and, in a flash of shimmering light, vanished from Morag's orbit.
After several exhilarating space-jumps, the ships passed through the shimmering portal known as the Holy Gate, arriving on the outskirts of Sakaar. The entire planet was now encased in a colossal, transparent energy shield, a latticework of azure light that hummed with the barely contained power of the Space Stone. It looked delicate, but it was a barrier that existed across dimensions, unbreakable by mere brute force.
The sudden appearance of a Kree warship sent the planet's defense grid into high alert. Caiera and the others who had remained behind were startled, preparing for an immediate counter-assault. Fortunately, Ben's timely communication disarmed the system, and a section of the shield peeled open to grant them passage.
"This is Sakaar?" Peter whispered, his face pressed against the glass.
The world below was unrecognizable. The barren, red wasteland Ben had first encountered was gone, replaced by a vibrant tapestry of emerald forests, sapphire rivers, and sprawling, futuristic cities. When Ben had defeated the Red King, the planet itself had resonated with his power, awakening the dormant life force within its core.
"It looks like a nice place to retire," Steve remarked with a quiet smile, the sight of so much life easing the tension in his shoulders.
Caiera, flanked by the Royal Guard, descended to greet them, her silver skin gleaming. Loki and Brunnhilde were with her, their presence a testament to their new roles as leaders of this world.
"Caiera," Ben commanded as he stepped onto the newly grown grass, "take this ship to Beta Ray Bill. Have him and his engineers strip it for parts and use them to finish the upgrades on the Korbinite flagship."
"As you command," she replied with a respectful nod. For a people who had survived for millennia by scavenging, this was a task they were uniquely suited for. She immediately issued orders to her warriors, who began swarming the Kree ship with practiced efficiency.
At that moment, the Winter Soldier, Rocket, and Groot finally disembarked.
"Don't forget my money!" Rocket chirped, scurrying over to Ben.
"Give the raccoon two billion," Ben said casually, not even bothering to look at him.
"Hey! Hey!" Rocket's face contorted with a mixture of excitement and indignation. "I don't care how much you pay me, you can't just call me a raccoon!" He puffed out his chest. "I am NOT a raccoon!"
Ben simply tossed his phone to the irate creature. Rocket caught it deftly, a puzzled look on his face. "What's this?"
He glanced at the screen, and his entire world tilted on its axis. His jaw dropped, and his black, beady eyes widened to the size of saucers. Displayed on the screen were several high-definition photos of ordinary Earth raccoons, looking uncannily like miniature, non-cybernetic versions of himself.
"No way," he breathed, stroking the image on the screen. "I… I really am a raccoon…"
Ben paid Rocket's existential crisis no mind. On Earth, he was Ben Parker, teenage CEO of Primus Technologies. But here, on Sakaar, he was king, and his demeanor shifted to match the role.
"What is Looma's status?" he asked Caiera.
"The Red Wind Queen is still recuperating," she answered. "Her soul sustained some damage. It will take time for her to fully recover."
Ben had expected as much. Corvus Glaive's weapon was infamous for its ability to wound a being's very essence. Looma had been ambushed, and though she had won, it had come at a cost. "See to it that she rests. She will not be participating in the coming conflict." His tone was final, leaving no room for argument.
The group made their way toward the imperial capital. The transformation of Sakaar was breathtaking. New cities had sprung from the earth, built with a fusion of salvaged technology and the combined architectural knowledge of a dozen different species. The infrastructure was advancing at an exponential rate.
The capital, once a stark example of cyberpunk dystopia with a massive gap between the rich and the poor, was now a gleaming city of the future. It resembled the hyper-advanced New York of 2099, though with a much lower population density, the buildings were more spread out. With the exception of the central Totem Tower, most structures were low-slung and elegant. Hover cars, still a novelty on Earth, zipped silently through the air. From this vibrant, alien world, Peter could almost see the future Ben envisioned for New York.
The Totem Tower itself was buzzing with energy, as boisterous as a stadium during a championship game. Throngs of Sakaarians were gathered, their cheers echoing across the plaza.
"A fighting tournament," Caiera explained with a smile. "This tower is more than just the imperial palace and Plumbers headquarters; it is also our Grand Arena. The tyrant who once ruled this world forced slaves to fight here for his amusement. Now, it has been repurposed. We use it to select the finest warriors for the Plumbers."
"It seems much livelier than I remember," Ben noted, surprised by the sheer scale of the event.
"The coming war has motivated everyone to expand our ranks," Caiera explained. "And the arrival of the Korbinites has sparked a friendly rivalry. Their transformed warriors are quite powerful, and our own people are determined not to be outdone."
Ben nodded, pleased. A motivated army was exactly what they needed, whether their next foe was the Kree or the Black Order. In this universe, weakness was a death sentence.
Peter's eyes lit up with curiosity, fascinated by the prospect of watching alien warriors with unique powers duke it out. "Can we go watch?"
"Go ahead," Ben said with a nod. "We'll meet up later."
Loki, ever the showman, volunteered with a flourish. "Come," he announced to Peter, Steve, and the others. "Allow me to give you the grand tour of our magnificent kingdom."