All rights belong to Disney/Marvel. I own nothing.
The Bucephalus
Skaar's ship was pretty slick to the three girls. It was smaller and lighter than the ships that Kamala had been on during her mission with Captain Marvel and Monica Rambeau, but there was something simple and efficient about it. It certainly wouldn't have looked out of place in movies like Star Wars or Star Trek, fighting the Empire alongside the Millenium Falcon and Luke Skywalker.
Skaar called it the Bucephalus, which was the same name as the horse Alexander the Great rode during his many conquests.
It was also surprisingly clean on the inside, which had caught Cassie a little off guard considering Skaar's past as a gladiator. She had expected clothes and food strewn across the place, but everything was in order and sparkling clean without a bad smell or misplaced item.
There were two seats in the cockpit, one already occupied by Skaar, but plenty of room for the three heroines in the hold since none of them knew how to pilot a spaceship. They had stowed their gear away in one of the storage compartments before settling down on the floor, making themselves as comfortable as possible for the long flight from Mexico to Baltimore.
They each kept themselves busy in their own ways. Kate had borrowed some materials from Dr. Banner's lab to remake some of her trick arrows before deciding to catch up on the sleep she had missed during the ambush. Like any college-aged student, she never missed a chance to catch up on shut-eye.
Kamala read up on the information Dr. Banner had given them on Elijah Bradley. She had mentioned some things to Cassie but eventually lost herself in the information.
Cassie was tinkering with a new suit attachment that she had started working on the night before in Dr. Banner's lab.
Eventually, however, Cassie got bored and wandered over to the cockpit, slipping into the other pilot seat. Skaar wore a bandage over the shoulder he had been shot in, but other than that, he wore the same sleeveless tunic and baggy pants. However, he now wore leather sandals that looked like the kind of footwear that the ancient Romans once wore.
Outside, Cassie watched the dusty plains of Texas fly by as they took the most direct route to Baltimore. Because their ship was camouflaged, they wouldn't freak out any cattle farmers or catch the attention of anyone they didn't want to.
"What's up?" She asked curiously.
"What?" Skaar grunted, not even glancing in her direction.
"I…I was asking how you're doing?" Cassie said awkwardly. "Like…how's piloting?"
"Fine." Skaar replied.
"Oh." Cassie nodded slowly, tapping her knees together as she tried to figure out how to keep a conversation going with someone who was clearly a big fan of one-word answers. They sat in silence for a short while before Cassie tried again.
"How do you like Earth so far?"
Skaar's frown deepened. "Less cluttered," he said eventually. "Less deadly."
"Less cluttered?" Cassie asked with a small smile. "Have you ever been to Manhattan? Los Angeles? All they are is clutter."
Skaar shook his head. "No, they aren't."
Cassie tried to resist looking surprised. It was the first clear and coherent thought that Skaar had made since they met. It proved to her that he wasn't some muscle-brain who didn't know how to use his words. He was smarter than he looked.
"How'd you get those tattoos?" Cassie asked.
"They were given to me by my mother's people," Skaar answered. "They are a symbol of the Old Power. My mother was a priestess to it."
"The Old Power?"
Skaar huffed, as if talking to Cassie was a burden he was being forced to endure, but he answered her nonetheless.
"It is the deity worshiped by my mother's people—the Shadow People—summoned by the priests and priestesses," he said. "They summoned it to protect them when they arrived on Sakaar."
"Is your mother back on Sakaar?"
"No."
"Where is she?"
"Dead," Skaar said bluntly. "Her body was given to the spirit of her people."
"Is that why you left your home?"
"It is why I became a gladiator."
Cassie frowned. She couldn't make the connection between Skaar losing his mother and that leading him to become a source of bloody entertainment.
"I don't understand."
"The Shadow People keep to themselves. My mother rebelled and I was her punishment. When she died, they gave me to the Grandmaster to be rid of me and my mother's disgrace," Skaar explained. "I survived regardless."
"I'm sorry the Shadow People turned their backs on you," Cassie said, feeling a sense of defensiveness for the hulkling, but she wasn't sure where it came from. She had met him only yesterday. "That's not fair to you. You were an innocent child."
"There are no innocents. Only those who have done wrong and those who have done it yet," Skaar shook his head.
"How did you get out?" Cassie asked. "How did you earn your freedom?"
"I did what I was trained for," Skaar answered, his eyes firmly placed on the sky in front of them. "I fought. I won."
"What do you mean?"
"I stepped into the arena against the Grandmaster's new champion," Skaar grunted. "I left on my own two feet. He was carried out."
"You killed him?"
"I did what I had to." Skaar corrected his voice like iron. "I was a weapon. If my edge ever dulled, I would have shared the same fate as the Grandmaster's champion."
"You don't have to be a weapon anymore," Cassie tried helpfully. "You're free, Skaar."
"If I am not a weapon, then I am useless," Skaar said bluntly. "I have purpose and that is enough."
Cassie went quiet for a while, thinking about what the hulkling had said and realizing that he had figured out something she hadn't—she didn't know her purpose on the team. Kamala was spearheading the entire mission, and Kate was an obvious leader who hadn't realized how important she was. Skaar was self-aware enough to realize that his strength was his strength.
If she was being completely honest with herself, she wasn't sure where she fit in. She wasn't the best fighter or a great scientist or a master strategist. She could grow big or small, but that skill hadn't come in handy at all so far.
Cassie spent the rest of the flight in the cockpit with Skaar, never sharing a word as they continued toward Baltimore.
Baltimore
Skaar hid the ship in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city, and while Kate ordered them an Uber to take them to the Bradleys, the hulkling changed into clothes that wouldn't make him stand out like a sore thumb.
"I hate it," he grumbled, coming out of the ship. "It's too clingy."
He was in his human form, wearing a black tank top and basketball shorts with slides. He looked like a typical college-age athlete and would certainly ward off anyone who wanted to make trouble with the three girls.
Kamala tried not to laugh at his discomfort. To the other three, there weren't many other clothes that were as loose-fitting as a tank top and shorts.
The trio all wore hoodies and either sunglasses or hats to help cover their faces. They weren't sure who was after them—if anyone was at all—-but they decided that safe was better than sorry.
"You won't have to wear them for too long," Kamala promised.
"Hmph," he huffed.
"We should probably figure out a name for you," Kate said, crossing her arms. Like Kamala, she was amused by the uncomfortable hulkling. It was good to see him finally showing some emotion other than reserved annoyance or sheer fury.
"I have one," Skaar answered.
"Yes, but Skaar isn't exactly a common name," Cassie explained. "You need a human name."
"What about John?" Kamala offered. "Like John Doe?"
"He doesn't look like a John," Kate shook her head. "I feel like it should be a little exotic. What about Brynden?"
"This isn't Game of Thrones," Cassie laughed. "What about Clark? You know, like Superman?"
"Who's Superman?" Skaar grumbled.
"He's a fictional hero," Kate answered. "When he's not saving people as Superman, he's a newspaper reporter named Clark Kent. You could be Clark Banner!"
"It definitely works," Kamala agreed. "Superman was also from space."
Skaar thought for a moment before shrugging. "Fine."
"Fantastic," Kamala grinned as Kate checked her phone.
"Our Uber is almost here," Kate said. "Let's hope we have no more surprises."
"With our luck, that's not going to happen." Cassie laughed.
"Yeah, but a girl can dream, can't she?" Kate joked as they left the warehouse to catch their ride.
Oregon
Vision observed the picnic from his spot hovering above the park, a silent and unseen watcher of the people.
The four friends laughed hysterically as they sat around a wicker basket, munching on fruit and sandwiches. The sound of their happiness echoed across the park to the children on the playground and the group hosting their annual family reunion on the other side at the covered tables. The sun dazzled in the sky and there wasn't a cloud to be seen as a pleasant breeze rolled across the park, keeping most of the heat at bay so that the people could enjoy their day.
It was a scene that Vision had seen many times, but it contrasted with other things he had seen on his travels. He had seen corrupt politicians and traitorous corporations who were fueled by greed and the desire for more power. He had seen creatures too small, too weak to defend themselves be annihilated by the strong and powerful. He had seen the worst the world had to offer—death, destruction, poverty, and famine.
However, there was still good in the world.
He had seen great acts of heroism and courage from the weak and downtrodden. He had seen love and kindness between strangers with no connection other than that, at their cores, they understood what the other deserved.
The world was flawed, but there was much to appreciate in it.
Vision's musings were cut off as a wave of pain overtook his mind. He had just enough time to land on a nearby roof before his concealment disappeared and he was forced to his knees, clutching his head as the pain grew. It was as if someone had snagged his mind with a hook and was pulling.
COME HOME.
That was the message that was being pounded into the android's head relentlessly.
Then, without warning, the pain and the message stopped and Vision breathed shakily as he remained where he was—kneeling on the roof as he tried to comprehend what had just happened to him.
"Home?" He muttered to himself, instinctively turning his head to the southeast.
"Home." He repeated with much more clarity as concealed his form and shot into the sky.