Suckerpunch

She had done this a thousand times. Recognition missions. Deviating from them, though, that she’d only done a few. This land, for example, was new to her.

When Vers was sent to the same old routes, she would have to come back to Hala immediately, leaving the opportunity to new terrain recognitions for Vers to stray. Ever since she could remember, she had suffered from confusing dreams, fragments of what seemed to be her past life, a distant memory. And the dreams only made her wish to find out about her past even more.

She needed answers. Every once in a while, she would feel herself getting closer to a vision, a memory, a smell, a word… but then it would all fade away, and she would be back on soldier mode. Which is why she searched the galaxy for a land that resembled her dreams, maybe find the woman she kept seeing in her subconscious. All this done in hiding from Yon-Rogg. He would never find out she was doing it and she would never tell him.

This adventure had gone somewhat interestingly –is what she told herself instead of saying it had gotten wrong- Straying away from the path she had intended, her ship was caught in a vortex, a portal, and as she noticed herself trapped and in danger, she fought her way out of the black hole until there was no ship left, and her body fell on the ground, hard.

When she opened her eyes, Vers saw herself surrounded by dirt and smoke and more dirt. Her ribs ached mildly, as did her arms and legs, but it wasn’t too bad. She managed to get up, groaning in the process, and walked away from the remaining pieces of her ship.

The Kree Force warrior examined the shredded metal and electric panels that had crashed onto the sandy ground.

“He’s going to kill me.” She sighed, preparing for whatever punishment would come from disobeying direct orders and destroying the jet in an unknown planet.

Suddenly, the sound of metal and whatever other residues were thrown in the mountains of trash, moving and rattling, made Vers grow alert.

“You look like food.” A masculine voice irrupted.

She faced a group of six figures, with similar morphology but dressed in excess of attire, dressed in garbage. They looked like some sort of scavengers by the form in which they lurked through the dumpster of a place they were all standing on.

Vers wasted no time conversing. She recognized danger when she saw it. She was trained for it. So she raised her fist and blasted one of them immediately. The others backed away.

“Anyone else?” she threatened them.

“That looks fun.” A female voice caught her off guard.

She turned to see a dark skinned woman wearing face paint, her brown hair in a complex ponytail and her torso in a breastplate. The five dumpster-divers who had already given up on the warrior fled even quicker at the sight of the new woman’s presence.

Vers replied with the same wit she was showing the scavengers.

“It tastes fun too, if you like to be scorched.” She menaced the woman, raising her fist in her direction.

Yet the blonde was mimicked as the stranger raised her fists as well, showing off the weapons integrated in her wrist bracelets.

“How about you put away yours and I put away mine?” the brunette offered, squinting her eyes.

“How do I know they’re comparable?”

“I guess you can’t.” She tilted her head, rather amused, “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

Vers couldn’t help but think the woman was fairly cute. Neither could she avoid a smirk. She did as offered and easily walked towards the stranger with her hand extended for a polite greeting.

“Vers.” She introduced herself, “Kree Force.”

However, instead of a proper reply, she felt a shooting pain in her forehead, followed by a course of electricity shocking her entire body, although focused on her head. She fell to the ground, realizing she had been tricked and tasered.

“Pleasure.” was the last thing Vers heard before she blacked out.

-

Her eyes opened again, feeling a little bit of a déjà vu. This time, nonetheless, she opened them to something close to a room. She immediately recognized the somewhat soft structure of a mattress and understood she had been laid on a bed. Taking in her surroundings, analyzing a very empty, cold and metallic chamber, she eventually found the stranger leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey.” Vers groaned, sitting up, “That wasn’t nice.”

As soon as her head stopped spinning, she noticed a form of restraint keeping her wrists together and covering up to her palms.

“Those are heat containers.” The brunette explained.

“Great.” The warrior nodded, not very impressed, “Are you gonna tell me what you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything, I already have you. The grand master paid me six hundred units for you to fight.”

Vers squinted her eyes and couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. Her captor seemed powerful, smart and strong, yet she didn’t know the Kree Force. Or rather, she didn’t know Vers. And she was probably underestimating her.

“Who do I have to fight? You?” Vers teased.

“Not exactly.”

“That’s too bad.” The blonde smirked, “I was looking forward to kicking your ass.”

The tense silence caused Vers to rethink her actions. Perhaps letting off some steam by lightly flirting with the person keeping her prisoner wasn’t the best idea.

Fortunately, the brunette rolled her eyes and broke the silence, “Just get up and come with me. You’ve been napping for quite some time.”

Vers frowned and almost allowed herself to call out her captor on her rudeness. As she stood up, she kept looking around for answers.

“Wait, so, where am I exactly?” She asked the stranger.

The appellee turned around and began walking out of the room, “Sakaar.”

“Never heard of it.”

“For good reason.” The brunette sighed.

Vers followed her like a lost puppy, which she, to some extent, was. “I was following some tracks…”

“Don’t need to know.” The captor cut her off.

Vers stopped in her tracks, and the nameless woman noticed the lack of footsteps, therefore turning to face her prisoner, unamused.

“Are you always going to add a snarky comment to everything I say?” the blonde raised an eyebrow.

When the brunette was about to reply with, effectively, a snarky comment, she found herself trapped in her own irony and refrained from any type of comment.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Vers mocked her.

“Look.” She stepped forward, threatening, “Prisoners aren’t usually this talkative-“

“I assume they’re not as polite as I am either.” The warrior smiled.

“-So I’m gonna give you another chance to shut up.”

Vers tilted her head, “Or what?”

“I punch your teeth out.”

There was, rather amazingly so, no way to intimidate the Noble Warrior Hero. Her sole title carried far too much courage, virtue and pride to allow her to feel diminished. Besides, the woman attempting the intimidation provoked a few feelings, but fear was not one of them. Deep down in Vers core, she knew she could get out if she tried harder. For now, though, she was decided on getting out of there unharmed; not that she thought the harm would come from the beautiful brunette leading her down the hallways.

“I have another offer.” Vers taunted, squinting her eyes.

“What?”

“I give you my word on fighting whoever I have to fight, and you take these restraints off.”

Visibly, the corner of the captor’s lips curled upwards in the smallest half smile, one filled with sarcasm or perhaps mockery.

“Nice try.” She raised her eyebrows, seemingly unimpressed, before gesturing to the restrictive handcuffs, “You’ll get those off when and if you defeat the other warrior.”

“Okay.” The Kree shrugged, ready and confident, “Then point me in their direction now, so I can lose these.” She lifted her tied hands.

This time the small smile became a full smirk, “That’s where we’re headed.”

-

As soon as they entered a big room guarded by oddly looking individuals dressed in colorful armors, a robotic voice echoed through the walls, “Scrapper 142.” It announced.

Vers turned to the woman who had captured her, forcing a smile, “So that’s your name.”

The way she exaggerated the recognition made it seem as if the blonde was only worried about getting to know the scrapper, and not at all about her prisoner condition nor what she was being led to. It also seemed as if she was going to continue pushing to get personal answers from 142, since the only information she had gotten so far was nothing but a code name instead of her real identity.

142 did her best not to let her annoyance show, yet was fairly unsuccessful at it. So she kept her pace until they were both standing in front of the focus of the room. An eccentric man, also using face paint, which seemed to be the trend around there, sat on a golden chair. A large woman in armor stood beside him with her hand around a spear. A personal guard. Vers examined them both in sign of imminent danger, yet she didn’t find herself too concerned by them.

“I assume you’re the leader here.” She initiated conversation with the man.

The guard took one lousy step forward, “You will speak to the Grandmaster when spoken to.”

“No, no, she’s right.” The man waved his hand, no hint of anger nor fear in his voice; it was as if being brought prisoners was part of just a regular day for him, even maybe something he enjoyed, “Smart girl. You found her?” he directed the question at 142, pointing his finger at her.

As his forearm was raised, it was possible to admire the large sleeves dangling from his wrists. Vers noticed his gracious attire, the gold, the metal, the delicate way his colorful clothes were crafted, how it made him appear a wealthy and pampered ruler. Only then, the Kree thought to herself that this man might, in fact, enjoy being brought prisoners. That she hadn’t been caught for trespassing, but that she had been brought as a gift.

The Scrapper then nodded to the question, and it brought a big, dumb smile to the Grandmaster’s face. Like a spoiled toddler receiving a present, not grateful, but satisfied. And he seemed to like the Scrapper, as well. Vers processed that she was clever for being in the spoiled ruler’s good side. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to fear, but he didn’t seem like a benevolent sovereign either. Therefore, the brunette looked far from scared, and probably pretty content with her special treatment.

“You never fail me.” He swayed his head swiftly, congratulating her; he then turned to his guard, “Transfer her the units.”

Meanwhile the woman tapped a device on her wrist to do accordingly, the blonde dared to speak up.

“I’m sorry, when do I get to fight for my freedom?” she asked with her head up, her chest out and her back straight.

The guard scoffed. The Grandmaster laughed. The Scrapper eyed her proud posture with a glint of concern in her eyes. Vers saw for a moment as if it meant concern for her future in this planet, but she discarded the idea immediately. Instead of thinking more of it, or feeling bummed over being a laugh stock, she straightened her back even more, if possible.

“That’s my deal.” She said sharply, “I kill off one fighter, you give me freedom.”

142 intervened before the authorities could turn Vers down, “There is no freedom from Sakaar.” She tilted her chin downwards, receiving the warrior’s full attention, “Even if I take your restraints, you won’t be able to leave.”

“I accept.” The voice of the Grandmaster broke the interaction of the two women.

All three women faced him, surprised.

“You do?” the Scrapper frowned.

He spoke with the polar opposite energy of the brunette. His chin was lifted upwards, his features formed an amused expression, one of a man who had nothing to lose and simply took pleasure in watching the game develop. The prisoner’s deal was but a twist in his rules, and it didn’t mean more than a fun twist of events for him. Like he was tired of being obeyed all the time.

“Win one fight, you can stay as a free worker.” He offered.

Vers glanced at 142 for confirmation, questions all over her clear-colored eyes. A free worker sounded like a poor variation of the word ‘slave’. And by the emptiness in the brunette’s eyes, she could tell that’s exactly what it meant.

Nevertheless, it was most likely the best deal she would get. And it implied a chance to escape later. It shouldn’t be too hard.

So Vers nodded, “Deal.”

The Grandmaster clapped his palms together, pleased with the result of the bargain. The captor didn’t say a word. And the guard by the ruler’s side switched her sight from the caught to the catcher.

“I’m sure Scrapper 142 will know what to do with you.” She told the brunette.