DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
Thanks to diarmour, and AuxLexikon for the reviews, and to Priest of Pain for his thoughtful comments.
This is shorter than usual, relatively light-hearted and a bit filler-ish, I know, but I fell a little bit in love with the idea of the hacktivists by watching Agents of SHIELD and Elementary and I had to write it. Plus, Rocket and videogames... I hope you will enjoy it.
So, as I said last time, I will be on holidays with no internet whatsoever, more or less for the next two weeks, so the next chapter will be posted on the week of the 28/09, but it will contain more smut. Happy, folks?
Warnings: nothing really. Langauge, maybe?
Enjoy, and please don't shout at me!
They enter the Imperial Palace from one of the service doors, pretending to be delivering some stuff. Ronan said to keep it quiet, so it is just him, his friend Siobhan, a video editing whiz, and his best mate and fellow exile Arand.
A dark-skinned Spartoi girl meets them at the entrance and guides them through the corridors, towards one of the royal apartments. The door opens and another girl, a Shi'ar, pulls them in.
The room is big and looks like a cross between the apartments of a fairytale princess and a nerd cave. The decor is pastel, maybe done when the owner was younger, but the desks and walls are covered in high-spec computers and other pieces of kit.
"Cool gear! - Siobhan exclaims, cooing over a particularly wicked mixing deck - That yours?" she asks the Shi'ar.
"It's mine, actually. - the Spartoi girl says - Andromake, daughter of J'son of Spartax, nice to meet you guys." she introduces herself, holding out a hand.
Lukan shakes it with growing sense of unreality, and it gets even worse when the other girl introduces herself as princess Vesta of Shi'ar.
He and Siobhan exchange a look. Arand shakes his head and chuckles. How did three hacktivists like them end up rubbing shoulders with two princesses?
"Did Ronan and the guys tell you what we need to do?" Andromake asks, very businesslike.
Lukan nods.
"Where is he? Where are Dey and the others?" he asks.
"Elsewhere, pretending they don't know what we are doing. - Vesta replies - Plausible deniability is our best friend."
"I suppose it is. - Lukan agrees - So, how do we do this? Any plans?" he enquires.
The two princesses nod.
"Vesta is dealing with the logistics, I am doing the video. You guys help how you can, where you can." Andromake explains.
"I'll do the video. Editing is my main gig." Siobhan announces.
"Cool! - Andromake comments with enthusiasm and what looks like a hint of envy - What for? Ads? Music?"
"Music and video-art. I do stuff for Lukan's company." Siobhan replies.
"That sounds so cool! I wish I could have my own gig one day..." the princess sighs, then shakes her head and cracks her knuckles.
"So... I have identified a few key materials to build the video around and I've thrown together a script. - Andromake explains, flopping on the chair in front of the biggest screen - I need help to find more and mount them. And I need a soundtrack and some voiceover." she adds.
"I think I have the soundtrack. Kree funeral music. - Siobhan proposes - I heard it at my nan's funeral. It creeped the living daylights out of me."
"Your nan was a Kree?" Andromake blurts out, genuinely surprised.
Siobhan starts laughing.
"I am Kree, my dad's a merchant from Kilda. He runs a trading post on K'soth on behalf of House Lochlan. We are their vassals." she reveals.
The two girls look at her with wide-eyed astonishment. Siobhan is a giant of a girl, well over six feet tall, but apart from her dark-blueish lips and fingernails, she doesn't look the part, with her bronze skin and her dark hair, done in dreadlocks as thick as ropes.
"The people from the Houses are all blue, warriors, scribes and scientist are for the most part blue as well, but us normal people, from the merchant caste downwards , we come in all colours, from very pale to dark brown, with varying degrees of blue pigment. We're all a bit blue around the edges, though. It's the blood." she explains, still with a hint of laughter.
"I suppose we have been hanging out with the nobs for too long, then. - Andromake jokes - It's even better that you are, at any rate. There are a lot of documents written in Kree and and I don't know it enought to read it fast." she adds.
"If it's High Script we're still screwed. - Siobhan objects - I can't read it. It's not for the lower castes. Only the nobs learn it. "
"Do you mean the crazy little pictures? - Andromake asks, turning towards the screen - I haven't seen any."
"Awesome! Let's get cracking, then!" Siobhan exclaims, sitting down next to her and plugging in her terminal.
"These two have caught on like a house on fire..." Arand comments, nodding with approval.
"Let's leave them at that. - Vesta suggests - We have two tasks ahead: staging an attack against the ComNet securities system of the Xandarian government, to cover our sources, and finding a safe way of uploading the video." she enumerates.
"The first task is easy enough. - Arand chimes in - We've done it a few times in the last few years."
"We were still in high school the first time." Lukan reminesces.
"And they never caught you?!" Vesta sounds incredulous.
"Not for that, but they caught us alright, otherwise we wouldn't be here, halfway across the Cluster." Lukan replies.
"Let's hope your luck holds, guys. - Vesta comments - If they trace this back to us, to here, it is game over. The Council is just going to implode." she warns.
"No pressure, eh?" Lukan comments.
"None at all. - Vesta retorts with a cheeky smile - So, shall we start, gentlemen?" she asks teasingly.
Lukan and Arand take a small bow and start unpacking their gear.
"After you, Your Highness." Arand offers.
Vesta chuckles and shakes her head, turning towards her screen.
"First in gets two portions of cake!" she announces.
"Cake?! Is there cake involved?!" Arand exclaims, pretending to freak out.
"There will be, when we finish. - she promises - You don't want to see some of the stuff we have to work with on a full stomach, trust me." she adds, looking rather nauseous.
"Oh, joy!" Lukan thinks.
The perspective of gore doesn't fill him with enthusiasm, but it needs to be done. The war has finished, but the last embers of hate still smoulder unseen. Today they are the firefighters. Lukan feels privileged to be here, doing what he is doing.
Sitting down at a spare bit of desk, he pulls out his machine and accesses the terminal, tapping in the codes that will get him to the target.
"Let's do this!" he whispers to the screen.
"Check!" Loki announces with glee.
Ronan looks down on the board. It looks like the Jothunn has managed to back him into a corner. Again.
He sighs and resists the temptation to rub his face.
The painkillers have mostly worn off, and while he is not in great pain, he is still uncomfortable enough to get distracted. As if the thought of what the two princesses and Lukan's gang are doing was not distraction enough...
"I am not so rubbish at this game in normal circumstances." Ronan apologises.
"Don't worry. It is understandable. - Loki reassures him - And besisdes I used to play with my brother Thor. He wasn't any good."
"Too easily distracted?" Ronan asks.
"Too impulsive. - Loki replies, stretching on the chair - You'd be a better opponent if you weren't so worried."
"The wait is killing me." Ronan admits.
"It is killing us all. The weigth of hope can be heavier than that of despair." Loki agrees, nodding gravely.
"I never thought I'd have a second chance at making things right." Ronan confesses.
"Would you really have let them lock you away to have it?" Loki asks.
"I would, even if it would have killed me inside to lose all of this, all of you." he replies.
He lets his gaze wander around the rest of the lounge.
Helenai and Gladiator have disappeared, like newlywed couples are wont to do, but Peter, Rocket, Groot and Drax are playing videogames in a corner, while Gamora and Nebula are sitting in another, heads together and holding each other's hands.
Growing up in the hands of a sadist, they only ever had each other as protection and company. They should have been the best of friends, but Thanos twisted their bond, pitting them mercilessly against each other, inciting competition, jealousy and hatred between them. He twisted and twisted, trying to break them apart. He didn't twist nearly enough, though, and now that they are free, and protected from his nefarious influence, it looks like things are slowly returning to what they should have been, and a weigth seems to have lifted from Gamora's shoulders.
They are healing too.
"Will you really insist in declaring me part of the family?" Loki drawls. The tone seems to indicate that the matter bores him, but there is an almost hungry look in his red eyes. He cares. How could he not?
"I will. You are Nebula's partner, and even if we are not bound by blood, we are united by fate and a common cause. - Ronan replies - Everyone needs some support sometimes. We can be yours, if you will let us." he adds.
"Are you going to be my 'sponsor'?" Loki asks with a hint of sarcasm.
Ronan gives him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?" he asks, perplexed by the terminology.
Loki shrugs and waves a hand in the air dismissively.
"It is a Terran custom. - he explains - People who have gone through a process of change are paired up with people who are still trying, in hopes that they can help their sponsees devise a path to their new life." he adds.
"I don't think you need any help. - Ronan objects - I think your actions clearly show your true colours. You are a free man, and you are fighting the good fight. You have found the way already." he declares.
"Many people do not see things your way." Loki objects.
"Many people cannot see past your heritage. - Ronan retorts, grimacing in disapproval - I don't care what colour, shape or species you are. You stood beside us and defied Thanos. That is all that matters to me."
"And just like that, I am kin to you?" Loki asks, once more letting some of his need for approval and support come to the surface.
"Yes, just like that. Stand by me and I will stand by you. - Ronan replies - We all will, come whatever may."
Loki smiles, and this time it is not a haughty smirk, but it is soft, boyish and genuinely grateful.
"We make a rather successful team." he concedes, switching back to the suave persona he uses as a defence mechanism.
"Yes, we do." Ronan agrees, reminiscing with satisfaction about the moment just before the bombs detonated in Thanos' face. A cruel smile spreads on his lips.
Loki grins too. "I wish I could have taken a picture." he says.
They remain in companionable silence for a while more, looking at their friends and loved ones.
"In spite of our past, it seems like we are lucky men, after all." Loki comments with fondness.
Ronan nods and is going to comment more on the same line, but he doesn't manage to speak up in time.
"Hey, buddies! - Rocket exclaims - Are you done with that old men's game? Come play with us a bit!" he proposes
Ronan and Loki exchange perplexed glances.
"I have never played before." Loki says.
"Me neither." Ronan adds.
"It could be entertaining." Loki comments detachedly.
"It is likely." Ronan agrees.
"Maybe we should expand our horizons." Loki proposes.
"It would be wise." Ronan comments, pushing himself out of the chair.
"So, what are you playing?" he asks.
"Wormhole Ride. - Rocket replies - It's a spaceship race game." he explains, handing a controller each to Ronan and Loki, who turn it in their hands with perplexity.
"If you tilt it sideways, the ship turns. - Drax demonstrates - Tilt it longitudinally and it dives or climbs. The right trigger button is the thruster, the left is the flaps." he adds, putting his ship theough a series of tight turns.
"And the red button?" Loki asks with interest.
"Lasers!" Rocket replies with a wide grin.
Loki grins right back at him. "I suppose you can win by forfeit..." he comments.
Peter and Ronan start laughing. In spite of obvious differences in style, those two are alike in an uncanny way.
"That's one way to put it. - Peter laughs - So are you game?" he asks.
Loki nods and takes a seat.
"It seems an enjoyable antidote to this forced inactivity." he declares.
Peter smiles and shakes his head in baffled amusement.
"And you, bluebell?" he asks, turning towards Ronan with the cutest imaginable puppy eyes.
"It is never too late to make new experiences." the Kree replies with a shrug he immediately regrets.
Peter notices, obviously, and leaves his seat on the couch, allowing him to sit down, while he plonks himself down on the floor at his feet, leaning against his legs.
"Alright, people! - Rocket exclaims - Here we go!" he announces.
A timer counts down from ten and then the race starts among flashes of bright colours.
For a while Ronan is too preoccupied by what the hell Rocket and Loki are trying to do to be able to worry about anything else.
It suits him just fine.