Ben Parker didn't linger on Xandar. There was no need. The real prize he'd won wasn't the planet's gratitude, but the technology that had made it a galactic power in the first place: the Worldmind.
He hadn't stolen the physical supercomputer itself, of course. He had simply used Upgrade to copy its architecture, its very soul, during the chaos of the final battle. Now, back in the fledgling command center carved into the heart of Sakaar's capital, he had the complete blueprint for the Nova Force. He could replicate the Worldmind here, on his own terms.
There was, however, a catch.
After dissecting the data, Ben discovered a fundamental limitation he hadn't anticipated. The total output of the Nova Force was a constant. It was a finite pool of cosmic energy. The Xandarian Worldmind had acted as a conduit, distributing that power among the members of the Nova Corps. More members simply meant the power was divided more thinly. Their historical limit of five hundred active corpsmen, with only five at the elite Centurion level, wasn't a recruitment cap; it was a physical one.
His initial dream of empowering every Plumber with the might of a Nova Centurion was, therefore, impossible. The energy simply wasn't there.
Still, he mused, watching data streams flicker across a holographic display, it's far from useless. As an emergency failsafe, a last-ditch power-up integrated into their standard equipment, the Nova Force could be a game-changer. Reaching the Centurion level, even for a few minutes, granted the user the ability to traverse space unaided. It might not be enough to challenge a god-tier entity like Thanos, but Ben had never intended to rely on his foot soldiers for that. For surviving an exploding ship or escaping a planetary bombardment, it was perfect.
"The original system required the Corps helmet for activation," Ben murmured to himself, already sketching new designs in the air with a flick of his wrist. "I'll modify it. Bind the power conduit directly to the Plumber's core equipment. Activation will be keyed to their official badge." A simple, elegant solution.
With the Worldmind gone, Xandar was left defenseless, a gilded cage with no one to guard the door. It was Queen Adora herself who had come to him, her pride swallowed by pragmatism. In a formal request, she had petitioned for the Plumbers to establish a permanent base on Xandar, to formally place her world under their protection.
Ben, of course, had graciously accepted.
And with that, the political landscape of the universe had fractured. Xandar, a renowned civilization that had stood toe-to-toe with the Kree Empire and forced them to a peace treaty, had just sworn fealty to Sakaar. The news spread like a shockwave.
Across the universe, established powers were reeling. Sakaar? The galactic junkyard? The backwater planet of freaks and forgotten things? It was a complete inversion of the universal order. For the ancient and powerful empires like the Kree and the Shi'ar, it was as if a forgotten prospector's claim in the middle of nowhere had suddenly struck the motherlode, and now he was dictating terms to the galaxy's central banks. It was unthinkable.
The people of Xandar, however, saw it differently. Their entire military, the Nova Corps, had been annihilated. They had felt the shadow of a falling moon, a cataclysm personally orchestrated by a mad god. They had watched that same cataclysm be averted by another, more benevolent one. In a universe where gods were a terrifyingly real and present danger, siding with the one who had just saved you wasn't politics; it was survival. The sight of Ben single-handedly shattering their moon had instilled in them an awe that bordered on religious reverence.
What was wrong with submitting to a god? The Kree, one of the so-called "Big Three," worshipped their Supreme Intelligence. In that context, the Xandarians felt their choice was perfectly logical.
The official reports only solidified their decision. The Black Order, Thanos's dreaded lieutenants, had been utterly destroyed by this new "Plumber" organization. The tyrant's flagship, the monstrous Sanctuary II, was now parked in orbit above their planet as a trophy. The Accuser, Ronan, was a prisoner. And Thanos himself was gone, reportedly slain by their new protector. If anyone doubted the stories, they were welcome to test their validity. No one in the universe who had survived this long was that foolish.
Thus, the reputation of Sakaar and the Plumbers exploded overnight, elevating them to a status nearly on par with the three great empires. Whispers had already begun, coining a new title that was rapidly gaining traction: the Sakaar Empire, the Fourth Great Power.
Ben found the whole "Fourth Empire" business faintly amusing. Just as long as they don't call it the Third Reich, he thought wryly. I draw the line at raising my hand.
For now, these were minor concerns. He had returned to Sakaar to delegate authority before taking his Earth-based team home. He found Caiera in the command center, tirelessly sifting through a mountain of diplomatic communiques.
"The Galactic Federation has sent a formal invitation for Sakaar to join," Caiera reported, her voice as steady and solid as stone. She gestured to a separate pile of data slates. "In addition, the Skrull and Shi'ar Empires have both requested to establish formal diplomatic relations. The Kree Empire… they are demanding the release of all surviving Accusers, with a particular emphasis on Ronan."
Ben leaned back in his chair. The Galactic Federation was a glorified interstellar debate club, more symbolic than substantial, but it was a symbol they needed. As an organization founded on justice, the Plumbers couldn't be seen ignoring the galactic community.
As for the empires…
"It was inevitable," Ben said with a calm smile. "We just decapitated the single greatest threat to their power. If they weren't paying attention, that would be suspicious." Even the Duelists of the Shi'ar Imperial Guard, their strongest warriors, would have been no match for Thanos. With him gone, a power vacuum had been created, and Sakaar had just filled it. As long as Ben was here, Sakaar was, by default, the top military power in the known universe.
"And Ronan?" Caiera asked, her silver eyes fixed on him.
A cold smirk touched Ben's lips. "Tell the Kree they can have him back… in exchange for their most advanced warp drive technology, their best cloaking systems, and the full schematics for their Universal Weapon."
He had no intention of executing Ronan or leaving him to rot in a cell. The Kree zealot wasn't purely evil, just misguidedly fanatical. Killing him served no purpose. But using him as a bargaining chip to uplift Sakaar's technological base? That was just good resource management.
"Remember," Ben added, his tone hardening slightly, "when you deal with them, project strength. They're testing us. Don't show a hint of fear or uncertainty."
Caiera gave a slight, confident nod. She thought Ben was worrying for nothing. Who on Sakaar had reason to fear the old empires? She herself was a native of this once-isolated world; the names Kree and Shi'ar meant little to her beyond entries in a database. Looma, the indomitable Tetramand princess, would likely view any posturing ambassador as a new kind of sparring partner, ready to be hammered into the floor like a nail.
And then there were Brunnhilde and Loki.
Loki, who had been lounging on a nearby divan, seemingly engrossed in a Sakaarian tabloid, let out a soft snort of derision. "The three 'great' empires," he drawled, not bothering to look up. "If any of them had ever faced Odin in his prime, they'd still be trembling. The fact that they survived his reign is a testament to his mercy, not their strength."
He was right. Asgardians viewed the rest of the universe's political squabbles with aloof condescension. If pressed, Loki could simply return to Earth, retrieve Mjolnir, and remind them all what true power looked like. He had only relinquished the hammer by choice; his worthiness, and the power that came with it, remained.
Sakaar's foundation was new, its infrastructure still being built from scrap and ambition. But its high-end combat potential was terrifying. In a direct conflict, Ben wouldn't even need the Infinity Stones to bring the three great empires to their knees.
"I understand," Caiera affirmed. Her focus wasn't on galactic posturing, but on the practical challenges ahead. The future development of Sakaar was what truly mattered.
"So," Loki said, finally lowering his datapad and fixing Ben with an intensely curious look. "He's really dead? Thanos?"
As the former prince of Asgard, Loki knew better than most the sheer scale of the Mad Titan's power, a force comparable to Odin at his peak. For Ben to have killed him… it implied Ben's own power had reached that same god-like tier.
"I chopped off his head with his own blade and buried his body in a river of thousand-degree plasma," Ben stated flatly. "If he can come back from that, then it's officially out of my hands."
He couldn't be one hundred percent certain, not really. He knew about Thanos's… relationship… with the cosmic entity of Death. If Death simply refused to claim him, there was little Ben could do short of using Alien X to write him out of existence, a line he was still hesitant to cross. But certainty didn't matter.
"Whether he's truly gone for good is irrelevant," Ben clarified. "What's important is that the entire universe believes he is. Fear of his return kept the wolves at bay. Now, fear of us will do the same."
His gaze sharpened as he shifted to the topic that truly worried him. "Any sign of Vilgax?"
He hadn't forgotten that Vilgax had appeared alongside Thanos. In the heat of battle, Ben had lost track of him. By the time he had shattered the moon, the squid-faced warlord had vanished without a trace.
"No, my king," Caiera replied, a flicker of shame in her eyes as she lowered her head. "He is… cunning."
"It's not your fault," Ben reassured her. "He's had a lifetime of practice at running and hiding. He'll show up eventually. He always does." Besides, Thanos had nearly vaporized Vilgax with the Power Stone. He would need time to recover. They were safe, for now.
Ben then dove into the logistics of his grander projects with Caiera. Building a new Worldmind, reverse-engineering the technology from the Sanctuary II, analyzing the Kree weaponry they'd captured—it all required a massive influx of scientific talent. Sakaar was rich in warriors, but its supply of brilliant researchers was critically low. If it weren't for the few scientists among Beta Ray Bill's Korbinite refugees, Ben would be the only person on the entire planet capable of leading the research and development. The salvaged, plug-and-play tech from the garbage heaps was useless for building an empire.
He sighed. It seemed his return to Earth would have to wait.
"Caiera," he said, making his decision. "Prepare a ship. Peter and the others earthling need to get home. I'm staying. There's an empire to build."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGarudaYou'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~