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Barbara Morse was the first to board the aircraft. She held a doctorate in biology, so strictly speaking, she was a science person—definitely not from the humanities.
When someone from the sciences sees an aircraft—especially an advanced, non-public experimental jet—anyone who isn't interested probably wouldn't last very long in their field.
Barbara was obviously not that kind of person. And the fact that she had chosen to abandon a purely academic path to join S.H.I.E.L.D. as a covert operative already spoke volumes about her adventurous personality.
Someone like that was hardly going to remain indifferent upon seeing a plane like this.
So the moment she got on board, she sat down in the copilot's seat next to Vers, touching things here and there and firing off questions nonstop.
Perhaps because they were both women—or perhaps because Vers had that strong, big-sister aura—she was happy to answer Barbara's questions.
It was also possible that Vers was using the back-and-forth conversation to temporarily push aside all the unanswered confusion weighing on her mind.
Nick Fury, seated toward the back, wasn't idle either. He asked Henry about what had happened while he and Barbara were holding position outside the base.
With an eyewitness present, Henry had no reason to hide anything. He explained everything in full detail.
"So that means we can assume more Skrulls have already replaced S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—and we have no way to tell who's who," Fury summarized.
"Unless they give themselves away through their words or actions, that's correct," Henry replied.
However, from Henry's memories, the Kree—old enemies of the Skrulls—had developed Skrull detectors. Even Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four had created similar devices, which solved the Secret Invasion event in the comics.
In other words, disguised Skrulls were detectable, and it didn't require biological samples. Proximity alone was enough.
Henry himself had been using his enhanced senses to analyze them, but likely due to an insufficient sample size, he hadn't yet found a precise method—only a rough lead.
If he had to put it into words, the idea had come from the brainwave translator used for interpreting tiger vocalizations.
Different species showed distinct neural transmission patterns. And Skrulls weren't even carbon-based lifeforms; they were composed of materials not found on Earth.
Still, Henry hadn't yet identified a clear "pattern" that could definitively label a target as a disguised Skrull. For now, he could only rely on behavioral anomalies.
Meanwhile, Nick Fury had gone quiet, pondering when Keller might have been replaced—and whether the original director was still alive.
Henry didn't let Fury dwell too long. He had plenty of questions of his own. Showing curiosity also helped ease the legendary spymaster's suspicions—at the very least, it prevented the impression that Henry already knew everything.
"So where are we headed now?" Henry asked. "Fleeing the country?"
"Of course not," Fury replied. "We're going to Louisiana to find someone."
"Who?"
"Maria Rambeau. Former Air Force test pilot. A member of Project Pegasus."
"Why her?"
"Because she's tied to the answer to a mystery. Vers—who claims to be a Kree Starforce soldier—may have been the pilot in a costly experimental aircraft crash six years ago. To uncover the truth, we need to ask someone else who was part of Project Pegasus."
"And how does this relate to the Skrulls?" Henry asked.
"It relates to the answers Vers is looking for."
"Then why are you getting involved?" Henry pressed. "This doesn't concern you directly. Shouldn't your top priority be dealing with the Skrulls? Your organization's practically been infiltrated."
Fury shook his head. "No, no, no—you've got it wrong, Henry. My instincts tell me that all the answers lie with Ms. Vers.
"What are the Kree? What are the Skrulls? Why are they on Earth? And why does all of this connect to Project Pegasus, which worked with both the Air Force and NASA?
"You don't seriously think that killing Skrulls on sight would end this, do you? As long as the underlying cause remains, Skrulls will just keep appearing.
"What we should be doing is finding that why—and then figuring out how to deal with the source. To do that, we need intelligence. Accurate, in-depth intelligence—not just surface-level information.
"The United States already has two million idiots who know how to pull a trigger. We don't need more. Deciding where the guns point and who gets shot—that's our job."
"Is that really all?" Henry asked skeptically, eyeing the seemingly righteous Fury. "You already brought up the U.S. military as an example. When it comes to looting, no one in this era dares claim first place if America calls second.
"Even in wars they lose, someone still profits. So don't tell me you're only getting involved to 'solve problems.' I don't buy it."
"Ha—sharp kid," Fury said, praising him without hesitation. Given their age difference, calling Henry "kid" was more than fair.
The still–two-eyed Fury spoke openly. "If you want to profit from something, you first need to know who holds the chips—and where you stand.
"If a little kitten tries to profit from a fight between a lion and a tiger, it'll probably just get bitten to death."
As he spoke, Fury picked up the orange cat that was trying to climb toward the cockpit and started petting it again. A question lingered unspoken in his mind: Why was this cat so attached to Vers?
"I'm not stupid enough to think Earth can challenge aliens with spaceflight technology. But war is only one language of politics. Even the weak have roles they can play—as long as they find the right point of entry."
What Fury didn't say was that he still remembered the key ingredient in the Infinity Formula his white-skinned father had used: something Earth didn't produce—Kree.
That didn't mean he would side with the Skrulls against the Kree just to stockpile some "raw materials."
But with two alien races bringing their conflict to Earth, there was no way he could simply ignore it. At the very least, he needed to understand the full story.
Still, whatever he planned to do, he lacked far too much information. He couldn't even form a proper judgment yet, so all he could do was take things one step at a time.
And there was one thing in this whole affair that lay completely outside his expectations—and fascinated him greatly.
Nick Fury glanced at the tiger lying at Henry's feet. A top-tier apex predator, willingly crouched beside a human—being bulletproof alone couldn't explain that.
"Honestly," Fury said bluntly, "compared to this farce of two alien factions fighting each other, I'm more curious about one thing, Henry. Why does this involve you?"
"I'd like to know that too," Henry replied truthfully. Out of everyone in this unfolding drama, he might have been the most confused of all.
As he spoke, Henry gently pressed his foot against Katie, almost like giving her a massage. The massive male tiger lay comfortably on its side on the rear cargo deck of the jet, just one step away from rolling onto its back and exposing its belly like a dog.
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