06
Beneath her dark lashes, Gamora watched the Chitauri from the small window of her cell door. She was all too familiar with the Mad Titan's cybernetically enhanced minions, having had numerous encounters with their kind throughout her time with Thanos. There was no reasoning with their race. The reptilian warriors blindly followed their their Lord's orders and would willingly die for his cause.
Sighing to herself, Gamora closed her eyes and tried to recall what day it was. There was no way to tell time in her dark, dimly lit cell. Instead, she counted the rotations of his subservients, taking notice when a particular guard would disappear and reappear. A particular Chitauri, distinguished by a scar above his right eye, was her main indicator.
Eighteen days, she thought, twisting in her shackles.
Above her head, Gamora's slender wrists hung aloft, suspended by the metal constraints. Her arms ached from the unrelenting tension. The Mad Titan's subordinates only released her every so often in order to relieve herself and eat the meager gruel they provided her for substance. It was watery, tasteless, and slimy, but as the days wore on, Gamora came to anticipate its arrival.
Between feedings, Gamora spent her time ebbing in and out of consciousness in the frigid, dark cubicle. Sleep was nearly impossible in her current state. Unable to sit or lay down, she dozed standing up, only to wake when the stress on her wrists became insufferably painful. When her thoughts were clear, her mind not fogged by the strain of fatigue and hunger, she cursed Tivan until she exhausted herself with anger and sorrow.
She felt foolish for trusting him. Foolish for not heeding the words of her friends. They had told her not to travel to Knowhere alone. Begged her not to accept the Collector's cryptic invitation. Instead, she trusted Tivan's words. Put her life in danger in order to retrieve the Xiphos for him. In exchange for her faith and drudgery, Taneleer sold her to Thanos.
"Knock, knock," a velvety voice echoed through her cell door. "Anyone home?" Gamora, peered through the small glass alcove, gasping when her cell door crashed open with a violent clang . The man that met her vision made her blood boil. "Gamora, how wonderful to see you again," he jeered, stepping forward into her cell. "You're looking a little… Strung up."
"Jarvin," she muttered through clenched teeth.
Jarvin Yatul was a Kree warlord, one who worked closely with Ronan upon the Dark Aster during his break from the Kree Empire. He gained favor with Thanos after Ronan struck a deal with the Mad Titan over his exchange of the Orb for Xandar's destruction. When Ronan betrayed Thanos, Jarvin disappeared, rumored to have fled back to Hala.
"You chose to remain a lap dog to Thanos, I see," Gamora seethed, twisting her restraints.
Jarvin grinned, flashing his teeth as he approached her suspended body.
"I like to be on the winning team Gamora." The Kree stopped a few feet in front of her, smoothing his sapphire-colored palm down his face in mock sympathy. "Poor thing, it must be hard being on the other end of the stick," he hissed, breathing the final word with poison.
The Zehoberei narrowed her mahogany gaze, her aspect painted with abhorrence. She wanted to spit in the Kree's face, but doubted she had the strength to do so.
"Is that what you call it? Hala must be proud of you."
Abruptly, the wicked grin fell from his lips.
Jarvin had always been jealous of Gamora and her relationship with Thanos. He loathed her strength, beauty, and perfectionism. The favor she bore with the Mad Titan drove him mad with envy. Even Ronan, cold and impassive as he was, approved of Gamora and found her presence amidst the Dark Aster favorable. No matter how hard he worked, Jarvin could never surpass the Dark Lord's favorite daughter. It was a bitterness the Kree had never attempted to hide.
"You would do well to watch your tongue, Gamora. I'm the one in charge now." Jarvin took several more steps forward, then pulled a thin metal baton from his belt. "What happens to you here is entirely up to me."
Gamora scoffed, meeting his violet eyes with equal intensity.
"I assumed Thanos would want to kill me himself, Jarvin. Why send such a weak, bitter man to do his bidding?"
Amused, Gamora watched the rage build in the Kree's face.
"You'll be happy to know Gamora," he began, trying and failing to silence his anger, "that Thanos has no intention of killing you." The puzzled expression on her face made Jarvin chuckle. "No, no, our Dark Lord, like any good father, understands that children can sometimes be…rebellious. As his favorite daughter, Thanos has chosen to forgive your gross disobedience."
Gamora's puzzlement turned into disbelief.
"What are you getting at Jarvin," she replied, her voice suspicious.
"Exactly what I said, Gamora. Thanos intends to fully reinstate you as his most beloved assassin." Jarvin paused for a moment, a mischievous grin arresting lips. "However... As merciful as Thanos has chosen to be, as a father, he does realizes the importance of discipline."
Abruptly, the baton in Jarvin's hand lit up, sparking with surges of electricity.
Unconsciously, Gamora began to pull at her shackled wrists.
"Do you know what this is," the Kree asked, circling her svelte frame. "This is what I call a neuralgia baton. I designed it myself, believe it or not." Without warning, Jarvin grabbed her by the neck, pressing the baton into her exposed stomach. Gamora shrieked in response, her scream growing louder with each passing second. "Do you like that?" He uttered through a vicious smile.
Retracting the baton, the Kree circled her trembling figure, tilting his head in appreciation as he surveyed her abject suffering. The harder Gamora struggled, the larger the Kree's grin grew.
"You vile bastard," she hissed. Never had Gamora felt so helpless and mortified at the same time. Unable to move her hands or legs, she was utterly powerless to defend herself. "You will pay for this!"
Ignoring her outburst, the Kree raised the sparkling weapon in the air.
"You see, it is no regular baton Gamora. When it makes contact with bare skin, it activates every pain receptor in the recipient's body." He glared up at her, his eyes hot with animosity. "I've tested it many subjects already. They've described it as the most painful feeling they've ever experienced. Would you agree with that assessment, Gamora?" The Kree broke out in a fit of laughter, waving the weapon tauntingly close to her flesh. "Don't you see? This is where your repentance begins, Gamora. Right here, right now."
Rage boiled in Gamora's chest. The anger and the pain left her raw. Soon, she felt the familiar warmth of tears threaten her eyes. Breathing in a deep, steadying breath of air, Gamora pushed the tears down, swallowing hard. She would never allow Jarvin to see her cry. She would not afford him the satisfaction. Meeting his gaze once more, she shot him a murderous glare.
"So be it then, Jarvin."
The Kree laughed aloud, his throaty chuckle reverberating off the walls of her cell.
"Will we reach Thanos in two weeks. You will be fully disciplined before then."
Gamora watched Jarvin raise his weapon, resisting the urge to flinch as he readied his strike. Before he could swing the baton at her exposed flesh, the door of the cell swung ajar revealing one of the many Chitauri guards.
"Captain Yatul," the creature croaked, "Our vessel has been breached."
The color drained from the Kree's face. Gamora watched his violet eyes dart from her to the Chitauri, finally settling on the guard standing in the doorway.
"Breached by who?" He questioned, deactivating the baton. "Who would dare?" Glancing back at Gamora, a defeated snarl was audible in his throat. "We will finish this," he hissed at her quietly, voice brimming with agitation. Without another word, the Kree marched through her cell door, barking crisp commands to the Chitauri guard as he trudged out of sight.
The moment her cell door shut the tension in Gamora's body slackened. She relaxed into her restraints, ignoring the pain in her wrists that followed. After departing the Dark Aster, she never expected to see Yatul again. While the Kree was a more welcomed sight than Thanos himself, his news of the Mad Titan's intentions were distressing. After twenty years, she was finally free from her oppressive father. She had no desire to be reinstated by his side.
I have to get out of here, she thought, pulling helplessly at her shackles.
With Jarvin running the vessel, Gamora knew the next two weeks would be torturous. Though Thanos was clearly using Jarvin, it was evident the Kree had taken his own liberties with her treatment. The Mad Titan would not have gone to such extremes. Shackles, gruel, and torture were too harsh of punishments for his favorite daughter. At the very least, Gamora hoped Yatul would be penalized for his behavior. The idea of witnessing Jarvin's humiliation almost made her smile.
Before she could consider the idea further, an explosion issued forth from the ship.
The sound startled the Zehoberei. Beneath her feet, the ship rumbled angrily. Her mind quickly wandered back the the Chitauri guard's words. Perhaps the breach in the ship was serious? If so, the circumstances could give her a chance to escape. She listened quietly to her surroundings, concentrating intently as the Dark Lord's underlings rushed towards the source of the explosion.
Who would dare breach a Chitauri vessel? Gamora wondered, staring into the small alcove in her cell. Why this ship?
Bang, bang, bang.
The sound reverberated violently through her door. There was someone on the other side. She squinted her eyes, peering through window of her cell. If it was a guard, they were surely planning to move her to another ship. Unlike the other prisoners on the vessel, Gamora was a top priority to Thanos. Gazing through the minute opening, she tilted her head in surprise as the figure came into view. It was not Chitauri, nor was it her Kree adversary. It was a figure cloaked entirely in black, their face obscured by complementary mask.
Another bang reverberated through the metal door.
"Peter?" She mouthed, mouth ajar.
Instead of an answer, a small explosion erupted from her door. Gamora screamed, turning in her shackles to shield her eyes from the debris. Turning back towards the entrance, her heart began to race. Perhaps it was Peter? Perhaps all of her Guardians had come to rescue her? She watched with bated breath as the smoke settled around her. The shadowy figure became more and more pronounced, until the outline of the masked man was in full view.
"Peter, is that you?" Gamora breathed, desperation evident in her voice.
The figure did not respond to her inquiry, but instead rushed forward, pulling a portable laser out of their pocket. Taking the tool, the man quickly cut each of Gamora's chains, starting at her feet and working up towards her wrists. All the while, she watched the man intently, trying to uncover his identify. It was impossible to tell, every inch of his body was clothed except his eyes.
Once her final shackle was cut, Gamora dropped to the floor. Being suspended for so long had made her legs weak. The full weight of her body was burden for her frail, malnourished limbs. Anxiously, the cloaked figure wasted no time, and grabbed her lithe frame from the floor. Placing one arm around his shoulder and the other under her waist, he propped the Zehoberei upright and took off through the cell door.
As the man stole her away from her small prison, Gamora tried to catch his gaze. Each time she tried, however, the man would advert his eyes from hers. He would not look at her, nor would he utter a single word. Instead, he would point and make gestures, indicating their next turn or when a Chitauri was nearby.
Even if it isn't them, Gamora mused, anywhere is better than with Thanos.
The thought comforted her, and the green-skinned beauty clung more carefully to the side of her liberator. The entire endeavor was nearly a blur as they rushed through the halls of the vessel. She was weak and in pain. Hunger afflicted her and dehydration made her dizzy. It was difficult to keep up with the unknown man, but she tried her hardest to press forward. When they finally reached his destination, Gamora collapsed, and he took her gingerly into his arms.
"Where are we?" She whispered, glancing around her surrounding.
Unsurprisingly, the man did not respond. Instead, Gamora took it upon herself to gauge their environment. It was an escape vessel. Small, but with a decent amount of throttle and fair durability. They were made for war and could withstand the elements better than most models.
Closing the hatch behind him, the masked figure placed Gamora into an adjoining seat at the flight deck. Hastily, he buckled her into the chair, then turned and seated himself in front of her at the main controls. The vessel quickly came to life beneath his fingers. The lights flashed on, buttons gleamed, and various mechanical sounds met her ears. Moments later, he hit the ship release, and the minute vessel sprung from the Chitauri warship out into the dark expanse of space.
For several moments, there was silence.
The man made no effort to speak, nor did Gamora. The suddenness of their escape left her voiceless. Only hours earlier, she was strung up in her jail cell, eating gruel and enduring Jarvin's dark promises of torture. Now, she was seated safely in an escape vessel with a man she did not know.
Who was this person and why did the save her?
"Tell me," she began, nearly breathless. "Is that you Peter?"
The man tilted his head in her direction, just enough for him to see her in his peripheral, then shook his head.
Gamora exhaled a disappointed breath. Although she had guessed some time ago it was not her Terran, part of her hoped she was wrong.
"That's fine," she replied weakly. "Then, if not Peter, were you sent by my friends? The Guardians of the Galaxy, they call themselves."
Once more, the figure shook their head, sending another wave of disappointment through Gamora's heart. She was out of guesses. Aside from her Guardians, Gamora did not have a plethora of sentients who cared about her well-being. A lifetime of serving Thanos had rendered her reproached by most individuals, although her recent deeds had earned her positive renown on planets like Xandar.
"If not Peter, and not sent by my friends, then who are you, masked stranger?" Her tone was strained, if not desperate.
After another moment of silence, the figure finally shifted. Unbuckling their belt, the man rose and turned to face Gamora completely. Curiously, she regarded every inch of his cloaked form, eventually settling her gaze on his eyes. This time, the man did not shy away from her searching stare. He met her gaze full on, returning it with equal intensity.
Yes, she thought, she knew those eyes. There was something hauntingly familiar about the way he looked at her. She had encountered his hazel orbs before. They were wise, perceptive, and ancient. She knew this man, knew him far better than she wished she did. Before the name could form in her mind, he grabbed the mask and tore it from his head. The platinum blonde hair that met her eyes left her stunned.
"Gamora." He mouthed the world carefully. "I am afraid it is only me."
She stared blankly at the archaic man, paralyzed by the various emotions that struck her body. A conglomerate of reactions were taking place in her mind. Sorrow, anger, and rage all coalesced in her breastbone. Memories of his betrayal flashed across her eyes. Unfastening her belt, passion burned dangerously across her visage. Tivan saw it, but did not flinch when she rose and stumbled towards him.
"Monster!"
Gamora raised her palm, swinging it towards his face. How desperately she wished to inflict pain on him. To make him feel an ounce of the suffering she had endured because of him. Tivan caught her wrist with ease, catching Gamora off guard. He tilted his head in warning, narrowing his gaze as she raised her other arm in offense. Tivan was just as quick, apprehending her other wrist and securing it tightly in his palm.
Gamora shook with rage, squirming aimlessly in his grasp.
"Fuck you, Tivan!" She cried, tears threatening her cheek. "I hate you! I absolutely hate you!"
Her efforts were in vain. Gamora was far too weak to put up a fight. If she were imbued with her full strength, Tivan might have found restraining her to be a challenge. In her present state, however, she was frail as a child. Gamora came to this realization as quickly as Tivan did. Fighting him was futile and thus her tempestuous fit quieted until her rage waned into somber defeat.
Immediately, she slackened in his hold, and in response he released her. She collapsed almost immediately, and he caught her by her waist, staring with an imperceptible gaze at the green-skinned beauty.
"I hate you, Tivan," she repeated in his arms. "How dare you come for me?"
The Collector nodded solemnly, never releasing his gaze from hers.
"You may hate me," he whispered, furrowing his platinum brow. "But you could never hate me as I hate myself, Gamora."
His words baffled her as gazed up at his towering form, observing his countenance. For once, Gamora was able to discern the emotions that passed across his sullen face. The impassible glower he usually wore was replaced with something more desolate, more pained. Before she could perceive anything further, a voice blared through the comm-link of the vessel.
"Villain! Thief! You are truly a fool to steal and sabotage that which belongs to our Dark Lord!"
Gamora immediately recognized Yatul's voice.
"You will immediately turn around, return what belongs to our Great Titan, and be subjugated to the appropriate punishment for your crimes! If you fail to do so, you and your cargo will be blown out of the sky!"
Tivan turned suddenly towards Gamora, picking her up and placing her back into her seat. He made quick work of her safety restraints, before seating himself back at the main controls.
"What are you doing?" She cried, her tone exasperated. "He's going to kill us both!"
Gamora watched as the Elder throttled the ship. She knew he was going to try to make a break for a jump point. It was their only hope of escaping the Chitauri ship. It was also their only real chance of surviving. Turning towards Gamora, Tivan met her gaze, uttering a hushed, "Hold on."
Before she could open her mouth to respond, the ship took off with sudden velocity. Gamora screamed as the small vessel throttled forward. The jump point was close, it was possible they could make it. If they did not, Jarvin and his Chitauri would easily annihilate the entire vessel with only a few shots. Just as the escape craft approached the portal, a sharp explosion shook the entire vessel.
"We've taken fire!" Tivan yelled from the controls. "But we'll make it!"
Gamora squeezed her eyes shut.
"I would rather die alone than with you, traitor!"
In another moment, their ship crossed the jump point. The familiar, unnerving feeling of transversing inter-space flooded Gamora's body. While it usually made her nauseous, this time she felt relieved. The warship was far too large to pursue them. With any luck, their small vessel could outrun them. Gamora's hopes quickly waned as the emergency alarm system within the craft began to sound.
They had taken on too much damage. The ship would not last much longer.
"What are you going to do, Tivan?!" She cried, breathing heavily.
Taneleer did not immediately answer. After a brief pause, he pointed to the left.
"There is a planet there, it's close enough. We may be able to make it before the ship gives out."
Tivan throttled the ship once more, using the last of the vessel's strength to get to the obscure planet.
"What planet is that?" She asked anxiously, watching its gradual approach. "Is it inhabited?"
"I do not know," Tivan answered calmly. "I am afraid we will have to find out."
The small vessel began to shake violently, losing integrity as it neared the planet's atmosphere. Once it crossed the threshold of the mesosphere, the ship began to descend with rapid velocity. They were going to hit the surface. Hard. Gamora wondered if her current situation was indeed worse than being returned to Thanos. Squeezing into a tight ball, she hugged her body as close she could until the violent stillness of impact stopped them.
Gamora groaned. The pain reverberated down each of her limbs like hot lightening. She was alive, but struggling to keep consciousness. Little was discernible in her current state, except that she was being moved. Someone was carrying her in their arms. A warm breeze wafted across her face and tickled her emerald nose. She tried to move her arm to extinguish the feeling, but failed after a few tries.
Suddenly, the movement stopped. She was lowered down, softly, onto the earth below. It was cool and grassy compared the the warmth in the air and felt good against her hot flesh.
"Ah," she moaned, flinching as her body was placed fully on the earth.
"Does it hurt?" Inquired a deep, hollow voice from above. His tone was collected and utterly calm. "If it weren't for your enhancements, I wonder if you would have survived."
Gamora opened her eyes slowly, squinting at the man above her.
Tivan was covered in a fine layer of dust. Quickly, she realized she was as well. Several small cuts littered his body, and one larger laceration was present just above his eye. It was bleeding badly, as was a small cut on his lip. Gamora looked down, surveying her own body, and found herself in a similar condition.
The crash, coupled with the events on the warship had taken their toll. Not only was Gamora injured from the crash, but she was weak, malnourished, and exhausted from her time in her small prison cell. Resting her eyes, she relaxed into the ground below until the dark pull of sleep took her. She hoped that when she woke she would be anywhere but there.
A/N: Hey! Thanks for the continued support everyone! I appreciate each and every review. And hey, Tivan gets an A for effort, right? Well, Gamora might disagree with that assessment... I also wanted to add, I updated parts of my writing in the previous chapter. Don't be alarmed if you've already read this fiction! These updated do not change the story line, they are just small improvements! Thanks again everyone! Until next time.