Marvel's Kryptonian Scientist Chapter 365 365

Everyone was starving.

The dark protein blocks distributed as rations were barely edible. Sotis chunks of partially processed insect carcasses were still visible inside, making them difficult even to look at.

But nobody had the luxury of being picky.

Hunger burned like a fire in their stomachs, and eventually every crewman forced the food down.

The fleet clung to a single hope.

Reach the recovery station.

Receive supplies.

Take a shower.

Put on clean clothes.

Eat a real al.

Sleep in a proper bed.

That was all they wanted.

That hope died the mont they arrived.

"There isn't any."

The logistics officer shook his oversized head.

"No more supplies."

Cabrino stared at him.

The officer continued casually.

"I can provide enough provisions for three ships for three months."

"That's it."

"There aren't enough resources to support anything more."

Cabrino forced a smile.

"Sir, my n have been fighting for a very long ti."

"They've suffered heavy losses."

"Perhaps you could make an exception..."

The logistics officer laughed mockingly.

"Fighting?"

He snorted.

"You people call that fighting?"

His expression dripped with contempt.

"The supplies here are reserved for Lord Thanos's core forces."

He jabbed a finger toward Cabrino.

"You're auxiliary personnel."

"Expendable."

"Three ships' worth of supplies is already generous."

His face twisted into a sneer.

"Keep arguing and you won't get anything."

"Take what you're given and get out."

Sothing snapped inside Cabrino.

For years, he had fought.

Bled.

Watched his brothers die.

Lost ships.

Lost worlds.

Lost entire sectors.

And this was the reward?

A fat bureaucrat treating him like garbage.

Fine.

If they wouldn't give him what he needed...

He'd take it himself.

Cabrino said nothing further.

He simply turned around and ordered his crews to load supplies.

Not enough for three ships.

Enough for thirteen.

Every crate they could carry.

Every resource they could reach.

Every scrap of fuel and food.

They took it all.

That night, Cabrino gathered the entire fleet.

A massive celebration erupted aboard the ships.

Food was distributed freely.

Alcohol appeared from hidden reserves.

For the first ti in months, people laughed.

They ate.

They drank.

They celebrated like n who no longer cared about tomorrow.

Within hours, more than half of the three-month stockpile had been consud.

Anyone watching would have assud they had given up on survival altogether.

Six hours after the celebration ended...

Explosions rocked the logistics station.

Fire blossod across the facility.

Ergency alarms scread into the void.

By the ti anyone reacted, it was already over.

Thirteen warships accelerated away from the station.

A new banner fluttered from their hulls.

The pirate flag.

Cabrino and his fleet had deserted.

For a very long ti, Thanos had been regarded as one of the great powers of the universe.

The description wasn't inaccurate.

He was a conqueror.

A destroyer.

A warlord whose na inspired terror across countless civilizations.

Entire worlds trembled at the ntion of the Mad Titan.

His territory expanded year after year.

Civilizations fell before him.

Empires paid tribute.

The future seed limitless.

His next objective had already been chosen.

The Skrull Empire.

The Centauri Sector was no longer enough.

He intended to expand into Androda.

Then Pegasus.

Then the Milky Way.

And beyond.

What Thanos never expected...

Was to beco trapped by money.

Or the lack of it.

Cabrino wasn't the first pirate commander to defect.

He wasn't even close.

Resource shortages had devastated the Black Order.

More than a hundred pirate fleets had already abandoned Thanos's banner.

Each organization might only possess strength comparable to a Chitauri force.

But war wasn't fought with elite soldiers alone.

War required manpower.

Always manpower.

Who harvested resources?

Manpower.

Who conquered planets?

Manpower.

Who maintained supply lines?

Manpower.

Who governed occupied territories?

Manpower.

Without people, an empire collapsed.

Each pirate organization contained tens of thousands of personnel and nurous ships.

Combined, the deserters represented millions of fighters.

Millions.

Gone.

And the remaining pirate fleets were becoming increasingly restless.

Thanos knew exactly what would happen if the payroll stopped completely.

The thousand-plus pirate organizations still under his command would eventually follow the sa path.

After all, they'd never joined for loyalty.

They joined for profit.

This was precisely why Drex Valen had abandoned the old structure of the Burning Legion and transford it into the Kryptonian Empire.

A civilization made entirely of warriors and conquerors could never sustain itself indefinitely.

Soone had to produce resources.

Soone had to build.

Soone had to maintain infrastructure.

Even Drex's empire relied on vast resource worlds and productive populations.

It didn't matter that he possessed commanders such as Gladiator, Captain Marvel, Hyperion, Darius, and Esdeath.

A handful of super-powered generals couldn't replace an economic foundation.

anwhile, rebellions continued spreading through Thanos's territory.

One uprising after another.

One crisis after another.

Every victory rely delayed the next disaster.

Then things got worse.

Ebony Maw entered the command chamber carrying another report.

His expression was grim.

"D3 Logistics Hub has been destroyed."

Thanos barely reacted.

Bad news had beco routine over the last two years.

He simply raised an eyebrow.

"Which rebellion was responsible?"

"The One Hundred Eighty Coalition?"

Ebony Maw hesitated.

Then shook his head.

"Neither."

Thanos looked up.

"Then who?"

Ebony Maw sighed.

"Our own people."

The Mad Titan's eyes narrowed.

"Our people?"

Anger flickered across his face.

"Explain."

Ebony Maw imdiately did.

"The forr pirate fleet commander we integrated into the Black Order."

"He beca dissatisfied with supply distribution."

"He attacked the logistics facility."

"He stole all available resources."

"He escaped with thirteen ships."

"And he is now operating independently under a pirate banner."

Silence followed.

The muscles in Thanos's jaw twitched.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst part.

Ebony Maw continued.

"The greater problem is systemic."

"Since Proxima Midnight's death, we haven't found a competent replacent."

"Our logistics network is deteriorating."

"The pirate commander is not an isolated incident."

He t Thanos's gaze.

"There will be more."

"Many more."

"If personnel continue rebelling over supply allocation, the Black Order will collapse from within."

Thanos knew he was right.

That was the truly frightening part.

No enemy fleet could destroy an empire as efficiently as internal decay.

He slowly leaned back in his chair.

"Proxima Midnight is dead."

His voice carried genuine frustration.

"There won't be another logistics officer like her."

"Perhaps not."

Ebony Maw nodded.

"But we can still search for a replacent."

Thanos waved a hand dismissively.

"Find one if you can."

His expression darkened.

"For now, we deal with the Skrulls."

The truth was simple.

He wanted a replacent.

He desperately needed one.

But wanting and finding were very different things.

At the sa ti...

On Earth.

"Mr. Stark is suffering from severe anxiety."

The S.W.O.R.D. psychological counselor finished reviewing the results of Tony Stark's evaluation.

"His stress levels are extrely elevated."

"He becos impatient within seconds of questioning."

"His concentration is deteriorating."

Steve Rogers frowned.

"How serious is it?"

The counselor sighed.

"Very serious."

"Anxiety can impair judgnt."

"And considering the position Mr. Stark currently occupies, poor judgnt could have significant consequences."

Tony imdiately rolled his eyes.

"Listen."

"I don't have anxiety."

"I'm perfectly healthy."

...

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