Inside the sterile, white-walled laboratory on Sakaar, the air hummed with the quiet energy of advanced technology. Nebula lay on the central examination table, her blue and purple skin a stark contrast against the metallic surface. She had stripped down without a hint of shyness, her gaze fixed not on her own exposed form, but on the tiny, frog-like creature perched atop a nearby console.
"So, is this your true form?" she asked, her voice a low, mechanical rasp. There was no mockery in it, only genuine curiosity.
Ben, in his Grey Matter form, barely glanced at her. His large, green eyes were glued to the massive holographic display that dominated the room. It showed a detailed, three-dimensional schematic of Nebula's body, dissected layer by layer, its secrets laid bare by Galvan technology.
"This is just one of my many faces," Ben replied, his voice a high-pitched, clinical monotone that was characteristic of the form. He tapped a command into the console, and the hologram zoomed in on a minuscule device embedded near Nebula's cerebral cortex. "I've found it. There really is a contingency plan left by Thanos in your body."
He gestured a tiny, three-fingered hand at the screen. "That's how your sister, Gamora, was able to track you so easily. You thought you had escaped him, but in reality, you've been on his leash the entire time."
The clinical detachment of his words did nothing to soften the blow. A shadow passed over Nebula's features, a flicker of an old, deep-seated sorrow. She said nothing, but the faint tremor in her metallic hand spoke volumes.
"It's always been this way," she finally whispered, her gaze distant. "I was never anything more than his tool. If he truly… cared for me, I wouldn't look like this."
She gestured weakly at her own body, a patchwork of organic tissue and cold, unfeeling machinery. Roughly thirty-five percent of her had been replaced. No father, no matter how cruel, would do such a thing to their own daughter.
But Thanos would.
Ben remained silent on that front. It was impossible to apply human logic to the Mad Titan. Thanos had personally admitted his preference for Gamora, but that didn't necessarily mean he felt no love for Nebula. His methods were just monstrous. He was a being who was just as ruthless in modifying his own body; it was tragically possible he genuinely believed that carving up his daughter and replacing her parts with steel was for her own good.
"Can you… can you get it out?" Nebula's voice was barely audible, a fragile plea. "His backhand."
"You don't have to ask. I was already planning on it," Ben said, leaping from the console and landing softly on the edge of the examination table. He was barely larger than her head, his amphibious eyes seeming almost vacant. "I have two treatment options for you. The first is that I can directly replace your existing cybernetics. I can even install more advanced equipment."
He wasn't bluffing. The cybernetic enhancement technology of the Korbinites had given him a wealth of inspiration. Beta Ray Bill, the guardian of their great battleship, could go toe-to-toe with Thor. That was a level of power far beyond Nebula's current capabilities.
"What's the other option?" she asked, a spark of intrigue cutting through her dejection. To be honest, the thought of an upgrade was already more than she'd hoped for. If she could become stronger—strong enough to finally defeat Gamora just once—it might be enough to finally earn her father's approval. The thought was so intoxicating that she wouldn't hesitate to replace every last scrap of flesh with machinery to achieve it.
"The alternative," Ben stated plainly, "is that I remove all of these mechanical parts, and you can simply be yourself again."
Nebula froze. The hum of the laboratory seemed to fade into nothing. "What… what did you say?"
"I said, Primus's healing serum can accomplish it," Ben elaborated, his gaze shifting back to the hologram. "You should be thankful Thanos didn't touch your vital organs when he performed his 'upgrades.' He mostly modified your torso and limbs, with only a small part of your head being an exception. If he'd gone deeper, the serum would be useless."
The part near her brain was the most complex; her eyes would be difficult, but not impossible, to restore.
"Become… myself again…"
Ben, still operating with the detached logic of Grey Matter, didn't fully grasp the earth-shattering weight his words carried. Ever since she was a child, after the first time Thanos had carved her up as punishment for losing a sparring match to Gamora, she had cried herself to sleep, hugging a body that felt cold, alien, and wrong. She had repeated this ritual countless times until the tears dried up and her heart grew numb.
Now, Ben's casual offer felt like a spark dropped into the frozen landscape of her soul, reigniting a fire she thought had died out long ago. It was as if the little girl who had been lost to pain and metal was being offered a chance to return.
"You… you can really do that?" she asked, her voice trembling with a hope so fragile she feared it would shatter if she spoke too loudly.
"It's your choice. If you want the new parts, I can transform in and design them myself. I'll make sure nothing goes wrong."
Nebula shook her head frantically, her metallic joints whirring softly. "No! Don't do that! I want… I want to be me again."
"Well if that what you want," Ben said, wasting no more time.
He began the delicate process of adapting the healing serum to her unique alien physiology. Once the custom formula was synthesized, he meticulously began the procedure, disconnecting and removing the cybernetic components that made up so much of her body. Soon, all that remained of the feared assassin was a limbless torso and head, kept alive by a respirator. Ben carefully submerged what was left of her in a large, cylindrical recovery tank filled with the glowing green serum.
Watching the bubbles rise around Nebula's unconscious form, Ben had a fleeting thought. It would be great if I had Vilgax's medical technology. That monster had been blown to pieces more times than he could count, yet his recovery pods always brought him back, stronger than before. The process was slow, but the results were undeniable.
Meanwhile, halfway across the galaxy, Steve and the others were running into trouble.
They had come to Xandar to propose an alliance, hoping to unite the Plumbers and the famed Nova Corps against the coming storm of Thanos and Ronan. But the leadership of Xandar seemed thoroughly unimpressed.
"Sakaar? The Plumbers?" The woman known as Nova Prime, her uniform a brilliant gold and blue, shook her head with a dismissive smirk. "I must confess, the names are unfamiliar. We receive delegations from all manner of fledgling powers, all with dire warnings."
She sat upon a floating throne, the very picture of institutional arrogance. Although Xandar was not counted among the three great galactic empires like the Kree, the fact that they had fought the Kree to a standstill for centuries was a testament to their strength.
Though they looked down on the envoys from Sakaar, Queen Adora and Nova Prime maintained a veneer of diplomatic courtesy. They received Steve, Bucky, and Caiera in the grand audience chamber, but their posture was dismissive as they listened to the warnings.
After motioning for Caiera to take a seat—a gesture more condescending than welcoming—Queen Adora spoke, her voice smooth and calm. "A peace agreement has been signed between Xandar and the Kree Empire. The Accuser fleet will not dare to attack us."
Caiera, her silver skin seeming to absorb the light of the magnificent hall, replied slowly, "Ronan, the leader of the Accuser Corps, lost his family in your last war. He doesn't fight for the Kree Empire. He fights for hatred." A peace treaty was meaningless to a man driven by such a force.
"He would not dare defy his empire," Nova Prime countered coolly. Of course, she knew the treaty was as flimsy as paper, but the Kree could not afford the cost of tearing it. To restart the war would be a pyrrhic victory at best, and that was without considering the potential for the Shi'ar or the Skrulls to intervene. The green-skinned Skrulls, in particular, would relish the chance to kick the Kree while they were down.
"The Kree may not dare," Steve interjected, his voice firm, "but Thanos does!"
Even the mention of the Mad Titan failed to persuade the Xandarians.
"If Thanos and his Black Order are foolish enough to invade Xandar," Nova Prime said, her voice swelling with pride, "we, the Nova Corps, will deal with them."
The Nova Corps was indeed powerful. Though numbering only five hundred, each member wielded the Nova Force, a near-limitless energy allocated to them by Xandar's planetary supercomputer—the Worldmind. It was this power that had saved their world from conquest before.
"In any case," Queen Adora said, her expression a mask of polite gratitude, "you have come a long way from Sakaar to deliver your warning, and for that, we are grateful." The unspoken message was clear: Thank you, now leave.
It was no surprise. Sakaar was an unknown entity on the galactic stage. Its words carried no weight.
Steve felt a surge of helplessness, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. Bucky simply scowled, his patience worn thin by the political posturing. But Caiera remained perfectly calm. She had expected this. Ben had told her their first overture would be met with rejection.
It doesn't matter, she thought. You speak to us politely now, but you refuse to listen. When you come to Sakaar begging for help later, the price will be much higher.
Instead of feeling frustrated, Caiera was almost looking forward to it. She was also intensely curious about the Worldmind and the Nova Force it granted. If the Plumbers could master such power, their strength would increase exponentially. Getting the Xandarians to hand it over was, of course, impossible. It was the very foundation of their survival. But she had faith that Benb would eventually develop the Old Power to a similar level. That was a power that belonged to Sakaar alone.
"If you don't mind, please feel free to stay on Xandar for a time," Queen Adora offered, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Experience our culture." It was a polite but firm expulsion from the palace.
Despite their arrogance, however, the Xandarians were not complete fools. Once the delegation from Sakaar had departed, they quietly began to investigate the movements of Thanos and Ronan. They recalled all Nova Corps members on missions across the galaxy.
Soon, their intelligence confirmed it. What the woman from Sakaar had said was true. Thanos's flagship, the Sanctuary II, and Ronan's warship, were indeed approaching their space.
But even with the threat confirmed, they never once considered reaching out to the upstarts from Sakaar for help.