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Xandar was the capital of the Nova Corps—a thriving civilization located in a stable gravitational zone between three suns. The entire planet glowed with the light of perpetual day, three stellar bodies maintaining constant illumination across its surface.
The Nova Corps had originated as Xandar's space militia and exploration agencies. Through development and strategic reform, it had attracted numerous peace-loving civilizations to join its ranks. It grew steadily, expanding its protective jurisdiction wider and wider across the galaxy, eventually becoming one of the most powerful organizations in known space.
Their power derived from the Nova Force—a near-infinite, unowned realm of cosmic energy. A source of power that made even an experienced magician from Earth feel genuine envy.
These energies were filtered and generated by a super-living computer known as the Worldmind, then distributed by Nova Prime Irani Rael according to the rank and position of Nova members. The Worldmind also served as a repository, recording the history, civilization, and collective knowledge of the entire Xandarian race.
Location: Xandar Interstellar Spaceport.
A small silver-white spacecraft shaped like a sleek bird descended onto the landing pad. After the spacecraft settled, the hatch hissed open, and a human young man emerged.
Business on Nidavellir had concluded successfully. After obtaining the Uru metal forging technology he'd sought, Aidan was satisfied to begin his interstellar travels properly. Technically, with Xandar's coordinates, he could have opened a portal directly—but doing so would mean missing all the scenery between here and there.
Time wasn't pressing. He'd spent seventeen subjective years in the Pacific Rim world conducting experiments, then immediately dove into forging the Traveler upon return. He needed rest. A journey, not just a destination.
The dreamy, deep scenery of the universe had mesmerized him initially—endless stars, nebulae painting cosmic canvas, the raw beauty of creation. But much like sailing Earth's oceans, the void became monotonous after extended exposure. Eventually, Aidan had increased speed and headed straight for Xandar.
As soon as he disembarked, an automated drone flew over, scanning his identity. The machine bore the prominent three-star logo—symbol of the Nova Corps.
"Terran. Male. Height: 179 centimeters. Weight: 123 kilograms..." The drone paused briefly. "No immediate threat detected."
The weight discrepancy was noted but not flagged. With the Life Evolution Equation's effects, Aidan's bone and muscle density far exceeded normal human parameters. He was compact mass, compressed strength.
"Identity file not found. Please proceed to Archive Room Seven to register. Thank you for your cooperation. Xandar welcomes you."
The drone departed immediately after speaking.
"Wait—" Aidan wanted to ask where Archive Room Seven actually was, but the machine had already zipped away. He shrugged helplessly and patted the spacecraft behind him. "Traveler, let's go. We're heading in."
Xandar had no strict weapon limitations—a testament to their confidence in security systems and military strength. The Traveler quickly completed its transformation from ship to humanoid configuration, following Aidan off the landing pad.
As soon as he stepped onto the main concourse, a holographic arrow appeared beneath his feet, pointing the way forward.
"Convenient," Aidan noted, tilting his head and following the guidance.
Along the route, he encountered numerous alien species. Some resembled humans with different skin tones—blue, pink, purple. Others were lizard-like humanoids with scales and tails. Still others looked like ambulatory cephalopods, tentacles gesturing as they conversed.
As the capital of the Nova Corps, Xandar maintained high safety standards and accepted diverse alien visitors. It was inclusive, cosmopolitan, making it one of the galaxy's most prosperous interstellar trade markets.
Following the arrow, he soon arrived at a registration port.
"You have arrived. Please register your identity." The arrow vanished, replaced by a holographic interface panel.
Aidan stepped forward. "Terran: Aidan Parker. Identity: Mage, arriving from Nidavellir. I'm looking for Corpsman Rhomann Dey."
The panel paused, connecting to network databases. "Understood, sir. Connecting you now."
Soon, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline appeared on the screen.
"Master Aidan? I didn't expect you so soon! You should have given advance notice," the man said enthusiastically.
"No problem. King Eitri sends his greetings to Nova Prime on my behalf," Aidan replied, nodding politely.
"Ah, thank you. The Prime has been extremely busy lately with Kree Empire affairs..." Rhomann Dey sighed, shaking his head. "Wait there. I'll be over shortly."
The communication ended.
Before Nidavellir came exclusively under Odin's protection, the Dwarves had maintained contact with the Nova Corps and forged weapons for them. However, since entering Asgardian service, Nidavellir primarily crafted for Asgard's warriors. They rarely forged for other organizations anymore.
The Dwarves themselves represented weaponry excellence, but few ever left Nidavellir to establish independent forging houses. Dwarven-crafted weapons on the open market were extraordinarily scarce and valuable.
Though Aidan wasn't Nidavellir-born, his relationship with the Dwarves was excellent. His arrival represented an opportunity for the Nova Corps to deepen connections with legendary smiths.
Aidan stood observing his surroundings with interest. Beyond pedestrian walkways, there were hydro-channels where aquatic creatures lined up to pass through checkpoints. Some vaguely resembled Earth's "mermaid" mythology, though... honestly, none were particularly attractive. The ugly ones were characteristically ugly.
Peculiar urban planning and architecture bewildered him momentarily—gravity-defying structures, impossible angles, buildings that seemed to shift when viewed peripherally.
A golden starship—a Nova Star Blaster—suddenly hovered overhead. A figure jumped out, descending via controlled anti-gravity.
"Hey! Hello, Master Aidan!" Rhomann Dey landed gracefully, extending his hand.
"Hello, Mr. Rhomann." Aidan nodded, shaking the offered hand.
"You look remarkably young. Welcome to Xandar," Rhomann said, studying Aidan's face with curious appraisal.
"Mr. Rhomann seems like a good man himself."
They shook hands and released.
"You have excellent judgment. I have a lovely daughter at home. I adore her," Rhomann said proudly.
"I should have a daughter someday. They're like angels."
"Absolutely the right perspective... By the way, do you have a wife yet?" The conversation took an abrupt turn.
Aidan was momentarily speechless.
"It doesn't matter—leave this to me!" Rhomann said enthusiastically, reading Aidan's expression correctly.
"No, no, no. I value natural connection more. The universe is vast. I'll meet someone when the time is right," Aidan waved his hands quickly, deflecting.
"Alright, I'll take you to find accommodations!" Rhomann didn't insist. "Oh, by the way—who's this?" He gestured toward the tall robot standing silently behind Aidan.
"My assistant for space travel. You can call him the Traveler," Aidan introduced.
"Hi! Hello there," Rhomann waved cheerfully.
The Traveler nodded silently, offering no verbal response.
"He seems... quiet," Rhomann noted in a lower voice.
"He'll warm up eventually. Consciousness is still new."
"What brings you to Xandar this time?" Rhomann asked as they walked side by side toward the city proper.
"I'm planning to open a shop," Aidan replied calmly. "Selling weapons and enchanted items."
Rhomann's eyebrows rose with interest. "A Nidavellir-trained smith opening shop on Xandar? That's... that's going to attract considerable attention."
"Good," Aidan said, smiling slightly. "I could use the business."