Universe-912345 Aboard the Nova Corps capital ship "Resolute Halberd", in orbit above the contested colony world.
The command deck's air stank of scorched circuits and something acrid, the smell of defeat. Emergency lights bathed everyone in red. Carol Danvers, still in her battle-damaged Nova Prime suit, stood at the circular holo-table in the center. Her short blonde hair was matted with sweat and soot. Around her gathered the battered remains of her personal team, the Supernovas. Tony's Stark, in his own, "optimized" nova-corps armor, for which he constantly got into fights with officers because of the military code, Gamora, helmet of, heal-spraying a cut on her arm, Rocket Rackoon, nursing a partially singed part of his tail, not covered by armor and Steve rogers, Captain of the strike team, leaning on his dented shield like a cane. The last parts of the crew, Thor and Star-Lord had stomped off to opposite corners of the bridge, the former quietly seething, the latter fiddling with a mixtape as a distraction. A few Nova Corps officers manned their stations with anxious faces, whispering into comm links.
Carol's voice cut through the hush, firm and controlled despite the recent chaos. "Status report. How many did we get out?"
A Nova tactical officer snapped to attention. "Ma'am. We've recovered 42 out of 50 ground team members. Seven confirmed KIA…" his voice faltered, knowing each number was a life, "and one missing, unaccounted for. Centurion Dey…we think the Corpus took him."
Carol closed her eyes for half a heartbeat. Richard Dey, a good man, one of Xandar's own. Taken. She forces herself to exhale slowly. We'll get him back. "Understood," she says quietly. "And civilian casualties?"
"Minimal, Nova Prime. The colony was largely evacuated once the attack started. The Corpus weren't…interested in hostages. Only resources and…us." The officer practically spits the last word, shame coloring his tone.
"They wanted a fight," Gamora states, arms folded across her armored chest. Her green complexion looks almost grey under the emergency lights. "They set a trap and we walked right into it."
Across the table, Rocket Raccoon snorts, hopping down from a stool he'd dragged over. "Waddya mean 'walked' into it? We marched in, banners flying," he grumbles. "Hell, might as well have knocked on the front door and asked if they would let us in." He winces, stretching his back. A nasty scorch mark runs across his cuirass.
Steve's blue eyes lift to Rocket. "Ease up. None of us could've fully known what to expect." Steve's voice is low and even, but there's a current of guilt underneath. As the field leader on the ground, he clearly feels responsible. "We engaged with standard containment formation. It was…" he searches for the word.
"An ambush," Tony supplies bitterly. He's removed his helmet, exposing a face lined with exhaustion and soot. Tony's usually meticulously groomed goatee is caked in dust and blood from a cut on his forehead. "A perfectly executed ambush, Steve. They knew our playbook. Shield drones, snipers, they had us pegged from the start." He swipes at a holo-screen projecting from his gauntlet, reviewing battle footage that JARVIS managed to record. Red enemy silhouettes highlight how the team had been flanked. "They jammed our comms in the first thirty seconds. Isolated us into kill-zones. That wasn't just tech, that was high Human intelligence and alien tactics." His tone carries a mix of admiration and anger, the engineer in him almost appreciates the cunning, even as the hero in him bristles at being outsmarted.
Thor, standing near a viewport, finally turns toward the group. His cape is torn, and one eye is bruised beneath the Nova helmet's black-golden glow. "They fought like cowards," he growls, voice echoing in the tense air. "Hiding behind machines and trickery. Nilfheim tactics." The reference is lost on most, but the bitterness is clear. He slams a fist into his palm. "Had they met us in open combat, by Odin's beard, we would have crushed them!" The thunder in his words is undercut by the fact that a dried streak of blood trails from his lip.
Gamora's eyes flash. "Open combat? They're not interested in honorable duels, Thor. They wanted to kill us, no matter how." She steps forward, the strategist in her aligning with Tony. "Every move they made was to exploit our weaknesses. When brute force failed" she nods at Thor's still-sparking armor, recalling how his initial lightning assault had been stalled "they switched to containment and attrition. They didn't care about casualties, theirs or ours, as long as the outcome favored them."
Carol listens, jaw clenched. She replays her own memories, the moment her powers sputtered out under that nullifier field, the sudden chill of vulnerability. She had felt the Nova Force and her other powers flicker, a sensation she'd never experienced before, like someone dimming the sun inside her. In that instant of weakness, she'd seen three Centurions vaporized by point-blank Corpus plasma blasts. If Thor and Tony hadn't bought her a few seconds, she might have joined them. "Focus," she tells herself, "This is no time to spiral". She places both hands on the table and leans in.
"They're highly coordinated, and they had intel on us," Carol says. Her tone is measured, authoritative, the voice she uses to keep others calm as much as to command. "Question is, how? We've never encountered them before." She looks around the circle. "Who are they? What do we know now, that we didn't before?"
Silence, except for the hum of a holo-projector. Then Peter Quill clears his throat. He had been uncharacteristically quiet, perched on a side console with his helmet off. "Well…for starters, they're loaded. Like, Tech loaded." He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "Their gear, those proxies…some of it reminded me of stuff I…uh, borrowed…from the Kree in the past, but way more advanced."
Rocket barks a laugh. "Quill, you mean to say these bozos have better toys than you? Shocking." He hops back onto his stool and starts dismantling his busted plasma rifle absentmindedly, pulling out a piece that's melted through. "I'll say this: their drones and robots? Top-notch hardware. I haven't seen shields that strong ever. That includes that flarkin' Thanos army." He gestures at one of the screens, which shows a freeze-frame of a Shield Osprey projecting its energy link onto a Corpus trooper who tanked a full blast of their Nova-energy and could only be harmed, once the drone was down. Rocket's expression actually softens into something almost respectful. "Those little buzzards… they gave all our heavy hitters a run for their money. And they're smart, too, stayed just outta reach, used cover. Not your average AI."
Iron Man nods in agreement. "I noticed. They formed a literal phalanx around their assets. JARVIS is running analysis on their shielding tech, it's like nothing we've seen from Chitauri, Kree, Shi'ar, you name it. It's adaptable, regenerative…" He flips the display, showing waveforms. "Multiple overlapping frequencies. You take one down, another modulation kicks in. It's infuriatingly effective." Tony can't hide a begrudging grin; the engineer in him loves a puzzle, even a deadly one.
Steve steps forward, standing straight despite the exhaustion rolling off him. "We need intel from the source," he says resolutely. "We have a prisoner, Crewman Vam is what he called himself." He looks to Carol for confirmation.
She gives a curt nod. One of the few small victories, they had captured a Corpus Crewman, knocked out and restrained by Groot. Carol remembers the man's featureless helmet and garbled vox-grille protest as they dragged him in. "He's in the brig. Refuses to talk so far, just repeats something about 'investors' and 'profit'. Nova linguistics is still working on fully translating his language, it's auto-translating from some SOL system dialect."
Gamora's lip curls. "Give me five minutes alone with him. He'll talk." There's no bravado in her offer, only icy intent. Everyone believes her, and also knows that's not how the Nova Corps does things, at least not how Steve or Carol want to do things.
Steve shares a knowing look with Carol, then turns back to Gamora. "Let's hold off on enhanced interrogation…for now." There's an emphasis that says not yet, but maybe eventually. "If conventional questioning fails, we'll consider other options. Perhaps Nebula can assist?" He glances at Gamora, who gives a tight nod but doesn't speak further.
Carol straightens, drawing a deep breath. The weight of command settles visibly on her shoulders, but her gaze is clear. "Alright. Let's piece together what we've learned. They call themselves the Corpus. They came through a one-way portal, Rocket, your scanners picked up residual energy at the initial site, correct?"
Rocket stops tinkering and salutes mockingly. "Yup. Big spike of Void radiation, identical to what I've seen in Dd. Stranges' files on dimensional tears. They ain't from around here, that's for sure. One-way trip too, my guess is they can't pop back home easily. Sucks for them." He smirks, but then shrugs, "Though judging by how prepared they were, I'd bet they brought everything they'd need in one go."
Star-Lord swings off the console, joining the circle with a newfound energy. "If they're stuck here, they're gonna try to establish a base, right? Gather resources, build up. That means we have a chance to contain them if we act fast." His voice is optimistic, but a bit desperate. He hates losing, and right now, they lost round one. "We hit 'em before they dig in deeper."
Thor rests Mjolnir head-down on the floor, hands atop it. "A wise strategy. We should not give these knaves time to summon more of their infernal devices." His good eye gleams with eagerness for a rematch.
But Tony holds up a gauntleted hand. "Hold on, Aesir. Rushing back in might be exactly what they want." Everyone turns to him, surprised, Tony advocating not rushing in, a change from his usual cocky front. The humiliation of the ambush has sobered him. "They'll be expecting a retaliation. Likely have an even warmer welcome prepared." He brings up a star map of the sector. "Instead, we play it smart. We need more data. We need to know their troop strength, how fast they can pump out those proxies, what other tricks they've got hiding up their sleeves." He zooms in on the planet below, the hologram shows a pulsing red dot where the Corpus site is. "I propose a recon operation. Infiltration, signals intelligence, sabotage if possible."
Gamora steps into the red holographic glow. "I can take point on that. A small team, under cover." Her green fingers trace the terrain contours around the enemy base. "Tonight, while they're repairing damage and assuming we're licking our wounds. Catch them off-guard. Gather intel or even capture a data core." Her demeanor is matter-of-fact; this is what she was made for.
Rocket immediately raises a paw. "I'm coming. Stealth is nice and all, but you'll want me there to handle any tech and explosives." He flashes a toothy grin at Gamora. "Besides, you'll need someone to crack those systems. Betcha they use passwords like 'profit123'."
Peter interjects, "I'm game too. I've snuck into a few enemy compounds in my day. And I can charm our way past any guards." He winks, earning an eye-roll from Gamora.
"You mean you'll blunder our way past with loud music and hopes they join in," she retorts, though there's a hint of a smirk. "Fine. But no loud music this time, Star-Lord, this is covert." Peter mimes zipping his lips, though everyone knows that's unlikely to hold for long.
Carol considers, then nods decisively. "Alright. Do it. Gamora, you lead. Take Rocket, Quill, and two stealth-specialist Centurions. Get down there and find us something we can use. schematics, troop counts, whatever." She fixes them with a firm stare. "But do not engage unless absolutely necessary. We can't afford to lose anyone else today."
"Yes ma'am," Quill salutes, and Rocket gives a little two-fingered salute of his own, far more flippant. Gamora is already moving, striding toward the exit, but Carol catches her gently by the arm as she passes.
"And Gamora," Carol says in a quieter voice meant for just her and the assassin, "find Centurion Dey if you can. If he's alive…"
Gamora meets her gaze, and something softens in the Zehoberei's hard eyes. She remembers how losing people feels. "If he's there, we'll get him out," she replies simply. Carol gives a grateful squeeze before Gamora slips away to prep.
As the infiltration team departs the bridge, the ship's med-bay doors swish open and Groot ducks through, regenerated from a shrub back into an adult treant form (albeit with charcoal-burn scars along his bark). "I am Groot," he announces softly, as he moves to follow Rocket, who waves him off.
"No buddy, you missed nothing, you stay and rest. We got this one," Rocket says, trying to sound nonchalant. Groot tilts his head, concerned, but Rocket gives him a thumbs-up and a grin that's almost convincing. With a reluctant nod, Groot steps back. "I am Groot…," he murmurs - "be careful" - as the doors close again.
Now only Carol, Steve, Tony, Thor, and a few officers remain around the table. A silent moment passes as they watch the red blips of their teammates descend toward the planet. Tension in the air, they all know how dangerous this is. Carol breaks the silence, looking at Tony. "Think you can get any useful data off that fragment of their gear you grabbed?"
Tony holds up the object he picked up on the battlefield, a chunk of the nullifier drone that Thor smashed. Its metallic shell is scorched and sparking. "Already on it. JARVIS is decoding the power signature." He places it on the table and a wireframe projection appears, slowly rotating. "It's fascinating tech, really. Uses some kind of exotic particle to create a field that mucks up our powers. With time, I might even replicate it."
Thor frowns deeply. "Why would we wish to make such a craven device?"
Tony shrugs, "I said might. Knowing how it works is the first step to counteracting it. Or even turning it against them." He taps a command, zooming in. "Look here, it creates an energy inversion of the Nova Force frequency. Essentially it's flooding the area with disruptive particles. If we adjust our shield harmonics, maybe we can minimize that effect next time."
Steve places a hand on Tony's shoulder gratefully. "That's good work. Anything that prevents what happened to Carol from happening again—"
"—will save lives," Carol finishes, offering Tony a small, sincere smile. She's not one to flinch at her own vulnerability, especially if it leads to a solution. "Thank you."
Tony, unaccustomed to heartfelt thanks, clears his throat and waves it off. "Well, I wasn't going to not figure it out. My ego was bruised down there. Gotta even the playing field."
Suddenly, a communications officer interrupts, pressing a finger to his earpiece. "Nova Prime, incoming transmission from Xandar. It's Queen Adora…patching it through now." The main viewscreen crackles, and the regal form of Queen Adora (the Nova Empire's political head) appears, seated on a throne-like chair with concern etched on her features.
"Nova Prime," Adora begins, her tone urgent. "We have received your preliminary report. Three of our Nova Centurions fallen, and a new enemy threat identified on Elysia-IV. Are you and your team safe?"
Carol straightens instinctively, shoulders back. "Your Majesty, we're safe now, aboard the Resolute Halberd. The enemy known as the Corpus, have withdrawn to their foothold on the surface. We…encountered heavier resistance than anticipated." She keeps her voice even, though admitting that chafes. "They are extremely well-armed. I've authorized a reconnaissance operation to gather more intelligence before we plan our next move."
Queen Adora nods solemnly. "Very well. The Galactic Council is alarmed by this development. An incursion from an unknown universe… This could have far-reaching consequences." She pauses, then adds with a slight softening, "Carol, the loss of our people is a heavy blow. I trust you will do everything in your power to protect our Empire and bring these culprits to justice."
Carol's eyes harden with determination. "Count on it. They won't get away with this."
As Adora's image fades, Thor steps forward. "Nova Prime, permission to speak freely?"
Carol nods. "Always, Thor."
His voice rumbles low. "These Corpus have dealt us a grievous wound. They will expect us to recoil. Instead, we should show them our true might. Rally the full Nova fleets, call in the rest of team Avengers and Guardians, strike with unison and wrath. Overwhelm them before they dig in like ticks." He brandishes Mjolnir, as if already smiting the enemy. There's an undeniable logic to his suggestion: the Nova Corps does have more forces that have not yet been deployed.
Steve looks pensive. "Normally, I'd agree, hit them fast, hit them hard. But after what we saw… I'm worried a frontal assault might play into their hands. They likely have contingencies, maybe traps on a larger scale." He glances to Carol. "Still, Thor has a point. If we let them spread, we'll be fighting this war on multiple fronts."
Carol raises a hand, calming the debate. "Let's see what Gamora's team discovers. Once we have more intel, we'll decide whether to bring in reinforcements for a large strike or employ more targeted operations." She must walk the line between aggression and caution. Inside, her blood burns for payback, they killed my people. But she's also remembering the chilling efficiency of the Corpus tactics. Rushing blindly would be a mistake. Carol Danvers didn't become Nova Prime by making rash decisions.
"Until then, everyone take a moment to regroup," she continues. "Thor, perhaps check on the wounded in med-bay, your presence would lift their spirits." Thor nods and departs, eager to lend aid where he can (and perhaps regale injured troops with a bold retelling of the battle, slightly edited to make it sound more evenly matched). "Tony, keep working on that tech analysis. Steve, coordinate with the ship captain here to fortify orbital defenses in case they try to hit us up here, I wouldn't put it past them to have space-capable assets." Cap affirms and heads off to confer with navigators and weapons officers.
Carol takes a long look at the starfield through the viewport once she's briefly alone. Her reflection stares back: dirt-smudged, eyes a bit haunted by memory. She allows herself a few seconds to feel the weight of the three Nova stars that just went out, brave Centurions whose families she will have to console. I'm sorry, she thinks silently. I won't let it be for nothing.
Her fists clench. There's something else gnawing at her, beyond this skirmish. A nagging intuition that the Corpus were too ready, too well-informed. Could there be a leak? A rogue element feeding them data? Or did they somehow tap into the Worldmind's networks? The thought that someone on the inside, or something, betrayed them sends a chill down her spine. She resolves to have Worldmind run a security sweep for any data breaches. The AI might have insight on that.
Before she can pursue that line further, the bridge door slides open to reveal Gamora's strike team returning. Much sooner than expected. Gamora, Peter, and Rocket jog in, helmets off, looking somewhat shell-shocked. One of the accompanying Nova stealth troopers is helping the other walk – the latter bleeding from a leg wound, but alive.
Carol's heart skips. "That was fast. Did something go wrong?" she asks, voice hushed but urgent.
Rocket's eyes are wide. "Oh, you could say that," he mutters. "Or maybe very, very right. Depends on your view."
Gamora steps forward, breathing a bit hard. Carol notices specks of unfamiliar blue blood on Gamora's armor, not hers. "We…ran into an issue at the perimeter," she reports. "Had to neutralize a patrol, but we kept it quiet." She exchanges a glance with Quill as if to say you call that quiet?, and he has the decency to look away, whistling innocently.
Quill pipes up, "They totally didn't hear my Awesome Mix Vol.1 as we took them down, by the way." Gamora shoots him a withering glare and he coughs. "Anyway…we got in. And uh, we found something." He reaches into a pouch and pulls out a small cylindrical datamass device. "Rocket did his magic on one of their consoles. We copied a ton of data."
Rocket waves his wrench smugly. "Wasn't even that hard. Their encryption's good, but not Galactic Council good. I've broken into Ronan's warservers before, this was cake. Got maps, comm logs, even some kind of R&D list. Juicy stuff."
Carol allows herself a tight, relieved smile. This could be the break they need. "Excellent work." She takes the datamass carefully. "We'll have Worldmind sift through this immediately. There might be intel on their capabilities or plans."
Gamora's face remains grim. "There's more. We found Centurion Dey."
Carol's breath catches. "Is he—?"
"He's alive," Gamora interjects quickly. "Injured, but alive. They had him and a few of our fallen in some kind of…medical containment. Likely studying them." Her lip curls in disgust at the idea. "We got Dey out. He's down in med-bay now, sedated. The other bodies we couldn't retrieve under fire."
Carol closes her eyes for a moment, relief washing over her. One bright spot: someone saved from the jaws of the enemy. "Thank you," she says softly, and Gamora inclines her head.
Rocket, however, has a more alarming report. "We also saw, uh…signs of weird experiments. Like, I'm talking next-level Frankenstein stuff." He shudders despite himself. "There was a lab…filled with parts, organic, synthetic, who knows what. They're cooking up something nasty down there."
He gestures vaguely to his torso. "We grabbed a few records on it, but from what I gathered, they're trying to… how to put it… 'improve' their troops."
"Amalgams," Gamora says, the word strange on her tongue.
Carol raises an eyebrow. "Come again?"
Gamora crosses her arms, recalling the horrifying visuals. "Their scientists are combining their soldiers with some other technology… or creatures. We saw a half-formed thing in a vat, part Corpus soldier, part machine, and something else that looked…alive, but also not." She's seen plenty of monstrosities working under Thanos, but even she seemed unnerved. "If those…Amalgam units complete, we might face enemies that can absorb our attacks or adapt rapidly. We need to be ready."
Peter Quill rubs the back of his neck. "It was like a bad sci-fi movie down there. Trust me, I love cool gadgets, but those things… I wouldn't want to meet one in a dark alley."
Carol exhales. This war is about to get even more complicated. "Alright," she says, steeling herself. "We know our enemy is upgrading. So must we." She hands the datamass to a communications officer for Worldmind to analyze. "We'll convene in one hour with the findings. Tony, start imagining worst-case scenarios for these 'hybrids' and how to counter them. Steve, prepare evac plans for the colony below in case we need to glass the site from orbit. Thor…"
Thor has reentered, having heard the latter part, looking troubled. "I heard, Nova Prime. Abominations bred in vats… Truly, these Corpus show their cowardice and evil have no bounds." He plants Mjolnir on the deck. "Say but the word, and I shall drag their leader out by the scruff for judgment."
Carol gives him a half-smile. The enthusiasm is appreciated, but they must be smart. "Soon, Thor. We'll make our move soon. But on our terms."
As everyone moves, Rocket sidles up to Gamora and Quill, whispering, "Ten units says Worldmind's gonna freak when it sees what we got."
Quill manages a weary chuckle. "I'm not betting against that. It's probably already having an AI aneurysm."
Gamora permits herself the smallest hint of hope as she gazes at her team. They survived the first round by the skin of their teeth, but now they're wiser. And they're not beaten yet. She pulls her sword from its sheath, inspecting the blade for nicks, and murmurs, "Round two is coming." Her reflection on the blade's edge stares back, steely and resolved.
Carol stands at the center of the bustling bridge, watching her officers and friends rally. There's pain in her stance, the loss of those Centurions weighs heavily, but there's also determination. The war is far from over. If the Corpus think the Nova Corps will crumble after a single setback, they are about to be thoroughly corrected.
"We'll hit them hard, and we'll hit them smart," Carol announces, voice carrying across the deck. Every person present looks to the Nova Prime, seeing the leader they trust. "They wanted a war… we'll give them one on our terms. And we will win."