A Galaxy Far, Far Away
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
Well, not actually that long ago.
More like right now, in a galaxy that's having a perfectly ordinary Friday, if you consider interdimensional refugees crash-landing through research vessels to be ordinary. Which, in this corner of space, is becoming increasingly common.
Space is vast, as you've probably heard, and most of it is remarkably boring.
Empty vacuum punctuated by the occasional rock, gas cloud, or merchant vessel trying not to get robbed by pirates. But here, in the shipping lanes between the Sovereign homeworld and their outer colonies, things tend to be a bit more interesting.
Observe: a sleek golden research pod drifting through the void with all the confidence of a species that has never encountered anything they couldn't improve upon.
The vessel's hull gleams with perfection, every surface polished to mirror brightness, every angle calculated for maximum aesthetic impact.
This is Sovereign engineering, which means it's flawless, efficient, and piloted remotely because the Sovereign are far too valuable to risk on something as mundane as actually being present for their own research.
The Sovereign, you see, are what happens when a species achieves genetic perfection and then spends the next few millennia being insufferably smug about it. Golden-skinned, eternally beautiful, created rather than born, they represent the absolute pinnacle of biological engineering. They have eliminated death, disease, and most inconveniently, any capacity for humility.
They particularly despise imperfection.
They hate asymmetry, genetic variance, crooked teeth, uneven skin tone, basically anything that suggests biological imperfection.
Which makes their current research project somewhat ironic.
Now, let us examine the specimens contained within this particular pod. Each one represents a different category of biological failure that the Sovereign find academically fascinating, though they would never admit to being fascinated by anything so imperfect.
First, we have a warrior.
A most excellent example of controlled violence gone completely out of control.
Blue-gray skin bears ritual scars that tell stories of battles fought with primitive weapons, cybernetic implants gleaming where flesh has been voluntarily replaced with chrome and circuitry.
His muscles strain against the containment field as he paces with predatory energy, he randomly throws himself against the barrier with enough force to rattle his teeth.
[DESIGNATION: KREE BATTLE-SLAVE, RECOVERED FROM DEBRIS FIELD SIGMA-7]
The warrior roars something that would make a pirate blush, spittle flying as he beats his augmented fists against the transparent wall.
The violent ones always provide such dramatic entertainment.
Indeed, I am quite right about this, nothing says "biological chaos" quite like a seven-foot-tall blue man with anger management issues and voluntary body modifications.
Moving along to the second specimen, we encounter a creature far more…. intriguing.
Here stands a being of considerable intelligence, her pale blue skin shifting to deeper purple as her emotional state changes. Intricate tattoos cover her body in patterns that move when you're not looking directly at them, and multiple tentacle-like appendages extend from her head and shoulders in graceful curves.
[DESIGNATION: ANDROMEDAN DEEP-SPACE NOMAD, CAPTURED DURING ROUTINE PATROL]
Now, this particular individual has positioned herself with remarkable care.
Several of her more, shall we say, intimate appendages are strategically arranged to preserve modesty while still allowing for natural movement. Her focus shifts as she regards the observation sensors with calm intelligence.
But wait, ah, she's adjusting her position, one of her tentacles shifting away from.
Close your eyes!
Close your eyes immediately!
Ahem.
We shall... we shall move on to the third specimen while that one sorts out her personal arrangements.
This transition is both necessary and appropriate.
In the smallest containment unit sits a creature that could only be described as absolutely precious. No larger than a human child's pet, covered in silvery fur that shimmers with its own inner light, with large expressive eyes that hold unmistakable intelligence.
[DESIGNATION: UNKNOWN SPECIES, ORIGIN UNDETERMINED]
"Pip."
Listen to that! Such perfect articulation, such precise vocalization.
The creature's bone structure displays complete symmetry, its proportions following ratios that would make a Sovereign architect weep with joy.
Everything about it suggests careful design rather than a high evolutionary accident.
"Pip pip."
Oh, how absolutely adorable! Those large eyes, that perfect symmetry, the way it tilts its head with curious precision.
Yes, indeed, I am quite correct in my assessment that this represents the closest thing to aesthetic perfection we have yet encountered in any non-Sovereign species. If only all biological specimens could achieve such harmonious design, the universe would be a far more pleasant place to—
Something screams toward the pod's sensors moving fast enough to bend light around it.
What in the name of space was that?
The instruments register massive kinetic energy, uncontrolled trajectory, and what appears to be a human male in some sort of environmental suit surrounded by failing energy fields.
The object, person, whatever it is, is tumbling through space at velocities that should have turned him into cosmic paste several minutes ago.
And it's heading directly for our perfectly organized research environment.
The research pod's forward section explodes inward as the colour green and a very loud bang tears through the hull. Emergency systems shriek warnings as atmosphere vents into space, containment units breach, and what had been a perfectly ordered scientific environment becomes a rapidly expanding cloud of debris and very surprised research specimens.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Well. This is certainly not what we had planned for today.
Riley Stone has arrived in the Marvel universe.