Chapter 4
“Your sister plans to kill Thanos.”
“Don’t be silly, Nebula would never.”
Proxima hummed her disagreement. “Yes, she would. She resents him for what he’s done to her, the enhancements.”
“And how exactly do you know this, Proxima?”
“Beyond the fact that she has no poker face? The Maw saw it in her synaptic drive.”
Of course, Gamora thought. She couldn’t stand the Ebony Maw, the thin, razor of a man whose silver tongue could bend any being to his whim. He and Proxima were like night and day, yet they shared a close friendship from their early years with Thanos. It never ceased to amaze her, and it made the two of them even more dangerous in her mind. Lost in thought, she almost missed Proxima’s next statement. “But Thanos thinks it’s just another mood, not a real threat.”
“And you, Proxima Midnight, what do you think?” Gamora asked, feigning interest in sharpening her blade.
WHAM!
Out of nowhere, Proxima’s spear slammed down, knocking the blade from her hand. Gamora slowly raised her eyes to meet Proxima’s, the whetstone still clutched in her left hand as her blade clattered to the floor.
“Don’t forget, child, we raised you just as much as Thanos. I know what you’re planning.”
Gamora’s breath caught in her throat as she focused on maintaining a blank face. But before she could continue the conversation, the ship’s intercom crackled, Korath’s voice cutting through the tight tension. “Gamora, Proxima, report to the piloting deck.”
Proxima scoffed at the order as Gamora bent down to retrieve her sword, hand faintly trembling.
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“Gamora convinced Ronan to let her go to Xandar alone. He would not listen when I suggested otherwise.”
“Do you think she will do it?”
“Gamora is the master’s daughter, it would be the highest betrayal.”
“She is adopted at best.”
Proxima snorted at the Maw’s response.
“And you wonder why they avoided you as children.” Corvus retorted.
“We might have to act quickly, particularly if the stone leaves this quadrant,” Cull postulated.
“And another concern -- Nebula is a loose cannon. But I will keep you all as up to date as possible, best I go.” Proxima nodded, her eyes sweeping over the three holographic faces in front of her. Cull gave a brief nod to them all before switching off his comm, off to finish the supply run he was tasked with.
“Tread carefully, Midnight. Ronan is prone to temper tantrums, though I’m sure you can fend for yourself.”
“Is that concern I sense, Maw?”
“It would be quite remiss of you to leave me with this pair.” And with a slight smirk and incline of his head, the Maw waved a hand to end his link before Corvus could get a word in.
“Insufferable,” Corvus muttered, though not without some warmth.
“Play nice,” his wife chastised. “What have you two been tasked with?”
“Thanos has ordered the Maw to salvage whatever he can of the Chitauri fleet now that we’ve recovered their mothership’s drive. He’s been holed up in the labs for the past week or so. I have been running maintenance, training, nothing unusual. And missing you, of course, my love.”
“And I, you,” Proxima responded, granting Corvus a small smile before ending their connection.
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“How in the worlds did she manage to get herself thrown in the Kyln?!”
Proxima leaned back in her seat, watching Nebula stalk by like a caged animal. She found it curious, the hate and love Nebula held for her sister. She knew that Nebula despised Thanos for her cybernetics, and that she placed the blame on Gamora just as much. Yet she couldn’t help but look out for her.
The two sisters often liked to think themselves smarter, sneakier than the Black Order. But they always conveniently forgot how much the Order was involved in their upbringing. It was easy for Proxima to see that, as much as Nebula thought she wanted to be the one to kill Gamora, she would never have it in her to strike the finishing blow.
And because of the pseudo-parenting role that was forced up her and the others, Proxima was pissed that Gamora betrayed them. It pained her, and she knew it would cut Thanos even deeper.
A crackling filled the room as the projection comm lit up, Ronan strolling into the room. Nebula stood at attention, like a good little soldier, Proxima thought. As Ronan passed her, throwing her a glare, she slowly lifted herself up. The Accuser didn’t like her presence on his ship, and he particularly liked it less than Nebula and Gamora. But before she could think of a witty remark (where was the Maw when you needed him?), the Other appeared before them.
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The trip to the throne, hidden in the midst of the fleet and Sanctuary, was fraught with tension. She could sense Ronan fuming internally, could feel the trepidation rolling off of Nebula in waves. She even registered her own shoulders knotting with stress, the constant vigilance required of her on Ronan’s ship wearing on her. And to top it all off, she wouldn’t even be able to see any of her fellows. They had to be out on a raid or something if the Other was speaking for Thanos.
So when it came time to report to Thanos, she leaned against one of the many rocky structures, watching the scene play out in front of her. Half distracted, polishing the tines on her spear, she barely registered the Other’s increasingly loud pitch.
CRACK!
She glanced up to see the Other fall back, neck very clearly at the wrong angle.
Well, she didn’t like him much anyways. Shame, Ronan beat Corvus to it.
As Thanos ripped into Ronan, she strode over to the Other’s body, prodding it with her spear to ensure that he was truly dead. Insult the Kree Accuser, give a backhanded insult to Nebula, cue Nebula’s ire… it was the usual exchange, nothing new for her to care for.
“This is one fight you won’t win.” Nebula declared as she stomped her way back to the ship. With one last withering gaze at Thanos, Ronan turned to follow her.
The Titan reclined back on his rocky throne, a twisted smile on his face. Once she sensed Nebula and Ronan to be out of earshot, she approached him and bent the knee. “Sire.”
“Proxima, your report?”
She straightened up, shoulders finally relaxing as she stood with Thanos. Even though her compatriots, her best friend and brother-in-law and husband, were not here, just being back on Sanctuary in the presence of her master was enough to calm her frayed nerves.
“Your sources in the Kyln were correct, I believe. I had heavy suspicions of Gamora’s intent before she departed for Xandar but lacked proof. She seeks to sell the orb to the highest bidder… I do not think she even considered that there is a stone housed in it. And on the topic of your daughters, sire, Nebula is still looking for any excuse to kill you. I believe she would side with Ronan if he should turn against you.”
“This is not new news, Proxima, but nonetheless, a valuable update. Go, ensure the stone is brought to me. And if you can bring me my daughters, it would be an added bonus.”
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The Kyln was filthy. Proxima carefully stepped over limp bodies, occasionally thrusting her spear out to finish someone off. There would be no answers here, she knew. Ronan was a fool, but he was a meticulous one. The Accuser would leave no stone unturned in his hunt for the orb, so desperate was he for revenge. And so Proxima had let her guard down a bit and did what she was best at.
Indiscriminate slaughter.
She had been told many times, by a great many people, that she was an army unto herself. And she had proven it many more times over. The Kyln’s population provided her a perfect setting to remind Ronan of that fact.
By the time Nebula had made her way down to main floor, Proxima had already accumulated a pile of bodies at her feet, mindlessly polishing her spear’s blade.
“About time you showed up.”
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“Some imbecile called the ship. Says he and the orb are on Knowhere.”
“Oh, you are joking with me.” Proxima responded, shocked at how simple it might be to find the orb. “Is it a trap?”
“Ronan does not seem to think so.”
Proxima sat in silence during the rest of the ride, lost in thought. Corvus was the strategist; he could think of every possible scenario and plan through them, it was as easy as breathing for him. Her strength lay in battle, her ability to adapt quickly and effortlessly and fearlessly in the moment. Quite frankly, she was unsure of how to approach the upcoming confrontation. Her brow furrowed, her foot was tapping, and she ran her hand through her hair in exasperation.
A click broke her train of thought, the door shutting behind Nebula as she exited the room.
With a sigh, Proxima tapped on her wrist comm, hoping at least one of the Order would answer.
She waited for a few seconds as the signals locked; Cull’s dot turned red shortly after, indicating he was preoccupied. A couple more seconds ticked by before the Maw answered her, and Corvus’s line continued to blink in silence.
“Midnight?”
“We’re en route to Knowhere. Someone called for Ronan specifically, claims he’s part of the escapee group from the Kyln.”
“Knowhere thrives on anarchy, it’ll be chaotic from the moment you land. Many, many variables…” Maw mused, long fingers steeping together under his chin in thought.
“Too many variables I fear. I am unsure…” She trailed off.
The Maw’s milky gaze met her own, his icy eyes searching her face. She knew she was a sight for sore eyes, dark circles sinking into her already too pale skin. The stress of this mission was unlike any other, the fear of losing Gamora and Nebula eating away at all of them; she was just the one unlucky enough to be on the frontlines of it.
But she trusted the Maw to understand her uncertainty despite her lack of words. Their friendship was built on many centuries of camaraderie, and she knew her silence would speak louder than anything else.
He sighed. “I… Our priority must be the stone.”
Proxima let her eyes slide close as she leaned her head back against the wall. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
She had never really had a maternal instinct; she much preferred to be able to return children and never felt a need to seek them out to begin with. Thankfully, Corvus agreed. And then one day, the last day of the cull of Zen-Whoberi, Thanos came back with a little girl, dropped her at their befuddled feet, and left for two weeks to visit his garden.
It was how four of the most feared beings in the universe began to, however reluctantly, raise a child. Which, shortly thereafter, became two.
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Proxima hovered in the back of the pod ship, hopping off of the bridge after Nebula had made her way out.
The thin silt of Knowhere shifted beneath her boots. The last time she had been here was with Corvus. They had come to see if the Collector had the orb, which of course he did not, and yet they still managed to end up with an exotic animal throw for their floor. One never left Knowhere empty-handed.
She gazed at one of the brightly colored screens, tapping it gently with her finger. When it didn’t respond to her touch, she focused her attention back to Ronan. Nebula looked at her, cocking her head to silently question whether she would take a craft and pursue Gamora as well. Proxima gave a slight shake of her head in response.
Midnight started towards where she knew the Collector to be, where the purple flames still burned brightly. If Gamora did not previously know that the orb housed a stone, she most certainly did now. An errant pod flew overhead, the air around her horns rippling she threw herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the plasma blasts from Nebula’s chase. A cursory glance to her back revealed that Ronan had already handled the errant rebel, hauling the body into one of the spinal fluid vats.
A bright, explosive flash drew her eye to the opening near the top of Knowhere. But as she squinted, peering closely to decipher what had happened, she didn’t see Ronan’s hammer until it was too late. The Kree Accuser had taken a swing at her, socking her in the stomach. Her breath left her, and she felt at least two ribs crack as she was thrown backward. An ungraceful oomph left her mouth as she slammed into a nearby wall, flopping to the ground, her spear just out of reach.
Grunting with effort, Proxima placed her hands on the ground, struggling to push herself up. She watched Ronan glance at the craft Nebula had just landed, a distant rumbling making itself known, before he turned back to her.
“I had debated whether it was worth it or not to kill you, Proxima Midnight. But now that I know that that orb houses an Infinity Stone… You are in my way.”
He stalked towards her, and she forced her body to move, to get up, but her muscles were slow to respond, her broken ribs sending needles through her.
“Ronan, it is done,” Nebula’s voice interrupted.
The rumbling that had started when Nebula landed had steadily grown louder as Ronan spoke, and as he moved in to land the finishing blow, the rockslide that the craft had triggered tumbled down. Chunks of ore and land fell around her, and Ronan jumped away from the debris. “I don’t have time for this,” he snarled. “But be sure, Proxima, first I will raze Xandar to the ground. And then, I am coming for Thanos. I promise you death.” He tilted his head up, a malicious grin stretching across his face. “That is, if this doesn’t kill you first.”
He smashed his hammer into the wall as Midnight finally managed to scramble to all fours. The crashing and rumbling of the falling rocks around her grew exponentially. All that she could see as the rocks pinned her down and buried her was Ronan’s shining black headdress as he boarded his pod.
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Corvus Glaive paced in front of the window of the Q-ship. His heavy boots echoed, his back pulled straighter than natural.
“If you’d like, I can find you one of those rodent wheels.”
He growled at his companion, a sharp clicking deep in his throat.
Ebony Maw sighed. “It’s one more jump, Corvus. Pacing won’t make it happen faster.”
Corvus didn’t answer. Instead, he stopped walking and rested his hands on the dash of the control board, eyes locked on the blinking light that had signaled emergency from Proxima’s comm.
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“Midnight, Proxima…”
Proxima’s eyes blinked open, groggy and crusted with dust. Her mouth was dry, and a metallic tinge coated her tongue. Her limbs felt like they were weighted down in heavy sand, and she couldn’t see anything.
With a jolt, she remembered what had happened, the rocks and mining debris and equipment pinning her to the ground, spear out of reach with no room to even wiggle. Her shattered ribs stabbed her with pain, blood caked around her mouth. She could feel a warm trickle of it around her horn. But she could breathe, even if each inhale racked through her body like an electric shock.
“-hear me, don’t move.”
Then the rubble was gone, and light streamed into her eyes.
And she screamed.
The numbing compression that the weight of the rocks had provided was gone, and even though pain clouded her mind, the warrior in her acknowledged that her ribs had punctured something or somethings internally, and all of that hit her in a wave of agony. A pair of hands, oddly warm, reached under her arms. In her hazy mind, she had not registered that she knew those hands to be that of her husband, and as he pulled her away from the rockslide, her eyes rolled in the back of her head, her crushed body too much to bear.
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The next time Proxima awoke, she kept her eyes closed. She could hear muttered voices to her left, could feel the familiar cloth of the cot yielding to her bodyweight. Even the smell of the air was comforting. A clean, crisp linen from Maw, a light musk from Corvus.
“-will meet us outside of Xandar air space.”
“Should we really-“
Now certain of her surroundings, Proxima opened her eyes, pupils dilating to take in the dimmed room she lay in. Groaning, she propped herself up onto her elbows, body aching. Bandages were wrapped around her chest and ribs, and she recognized a pair of Corvus’s shorts on her bottom half. A quick survey showed that her accelerated healing had kicked in as expected. Beyond some nasty bruising on her stomach and residual soreness radiating out from her ribs, she was right as rain. Swinging her legs over the edge of the cot, she hopped down to the floor, bare feet padding along to the attached command room.
“Boys. Do shut up.”
Maw barely reacted to her presence, but she saw the small tug on the side of his mouth. A brief nod was exchanged between the longtime friends before he swept past her to the call center.
Corvus, on the other hand, gawked like an awkward adolescent. Maw’s movement seemed to have knocked him out of his stupor, and he stalked towards her like a predator about to jump on his prey.
His clawed hands, still encased in their uniform metal, cradled her cheeks, thumbs brushing under her horns, before he brought his mouth down to hers in a bruising kiss. Proxima drank him in, welcoming his familiar lips and tongue, reaching up to grasp his wrists.
When the need to breathe became too much, she pulled away, resting her forehead on his. “I was worried, my love. Never do that to me again, I beg of you,” he breathed, voice fading into a low growl with his plea.
Proxima stepped back, grasping his hands in hers. “Do not fear, husband. I have no plans of repeating that ordeal again.” Releasing one hand, she gently tugged, guiding him to the tiny room with the cot. Smiling coyly, she whispered, “I am here now. Can you be quick?”
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“You are insatiable,” Corvus murmured against her neck, letting out a quiet groan as Proxima removed his belt. She smirked, fingers working open the flaps of metallic armor, before throwing her head back against the wall as he suckled at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His claws ran down her body, ghosting over the curves of her breasts, still hidden under the bandages, before hooking into the pair of his shorts that she wore. With a muted snarl, he tore down the seam, his gloves shredding the fabric with ease, ripping them from her body.
As he pressed her further up the wall of the small room, wrapping one of her legs around his waist and grinding his still-clothed hips against her, Proxima let out a little moan. Quickly, he captured her lips, swallowing the rest of her noise as she finally freed him.
With his other hand, he pulled her other leg around him, thrusting into her with one smooth motion. As always, she was more than ready for him. And as he began to move against her, he spoke to her in between almost silent grunts, “Never again.”
Eyes squeezed shut, straining to keep herself quiet, she breathed back, “Never again, my love.”
One last rickety breath left Corvus as he bucked against her, sending her over the edge with him. For a moment, they stayed there, him holding her up against the wall, still joined, foreheads pressed together. Then they heard the telltale racket of Maw making his way back to the command room and slowly parted, Corvus quickly fixing his pants and armor and leaving the room as Proxima took a moment to clean herself up and find proper undergarments and her suit. It was time for the Black Order to visit Xandar.
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“People of Xandar, the time has come to rejoice and renounce--”
But before he could finish his sentence, a whoosh of air flew past, throwing Ronan to the ground, hammer tossed away from his grasp.
Quill scrambled towards the stone embedded on the weapon, only to watch in confusion as the hammer lifted itself up and shot past Ronan. By his side in the rubble, Gamora’s face twisted as she recognized the spear that impaled the Accuser, blood staining the ground beneath him as he struggled under the weight of the star contained in the shining metal. “No,” she whispered, hand outstretched, helpless.
“Easier than baiting a chattering hogmonkey.” Ebony Maw drawled, arm lazily waving the hammer over to Corvus, who was immediately beamed back into the Q-ship by a piloting Cull.
Gamora looked on as Maw batted a charging Drax and Rocket away like fleas. The crunching of gravel sounded beside her, and she didn’t even have to turn her head to recognize Proxima’s gait.
“Thanos sends his regards, Accuser filth.” She spat before ripping the spear from Ronan’s chest with a cringe-worthy squelch. A quick turn of the spear in her practiced wrist brought the bladed end at his head, cleaving it clean from his shoulders.
Bones aching, Gamora rolled over, slowly pulling herself to her hands and knees as her muscles screamed in protest. She stared up at Proxima, who said nothing, eyes narrowed in disdain, and dare Gamora imagine, hurt. The corner of Midnight’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and with her metallic forearm she smacked the green woman across the face, sending Gamora sprawling onto the ground.
And with a huff, she marched over to the Maw before they both disappeared in a beam of neon blue, en route to deliver the first Infinity Stone to the Mad Titan.