Mischief on Midgard

The Guardians

"Your sister..." Loki started in a dry tone, "is inside of that thing?"

"Yes," Nebula responded with a small snort as their ship slowly snuck up on a ragged looking M-class spaceship. "I am certain she is on that ship, the Milano. It belongs to the self-proclaimed 'Guardians of the Galaxy.'"

"It's a piece of junk," Loki said in a disbelieving tone as he looked out the viewport. "How is it even in one piece?"

"I am... uncertain of that myself," Nebula said with a faint smile.

"Also, did you call them the 'Guardians of the Galaxy?'" Loki asked, turning to look at her with a raised brow. "That's... a rather childish name. Who the Hel came up with that?"

"The same male who came up with the moniker of 'Star-Lord,'" Nebula said.

"That is..." Loki let out a snort and a small laugh. "That's so stupid."

"Agreed," Nebula said.

Her eyes narrowed, and her finger tightened around a trigger. Laser beams shot out from their own ship, headed toward the smaller M-class ship. Loki took a step back and leaned against the wall, tugging his shirt down. He had long since ditched the clothes that he had been wearing previously. The remnants of his old Midgardian clothing weren't even fit to be cleaning rags at this point. He'd found some leftover, soldier uniforms on Nebula's ship and had donned the outfit. The clothing was loose-fitting, but still comfortable enough to suit him. A black leather top with arm guards sewn into it and a pair of matching leather pants with shin guards and heavy, metal-toed boots. His hair, grown long over the course of his capture, was pulled back in a loose ponytail and arranged so that it covered the hated metal disk on his neck.

Win he'd looked into the mirror earlier, Loki'd realized he wouldn't look out of place at one of those 'metal rock concerts' dressed as he was. Even his new weapons, all daggers, wouldn't look out of place. Several short and long blades were hidden or otherwise worn openly on his person. Still, he felt more like himself than he had in ages.

Loki was brought back to the present when Nebula cursed softly. He glanced up and saw that the ship she'd been targeting had ducked into an asteroid field. He raised a brow as the ship's pilot skillfully dodged around both her shots and each and every asteroid. He let out a soft hum.

"Their pilot isn't that bad," Loki admitted grudgingly.

Nebula let their ship fall back, their ship naturally unable to keep up with such space-level-gymnastics. Nebule smirked and nodded her head toward the sheer rain of smaller asteroids and stones that now lay in front of the smaller M-class ship.

"But not good enough to evade that," she said in a dark tone.

They shared a cold grin as one of the many, many stones struck the ship they were pursuing. Sparks flared for a brief instant before dying out. The ship shifted rapidly, banking left and right, but only took on more damage. The pilot was forced to aim their ship for the nearest planet. Loki chuckled darkly.

"They're going to have to make a crash landing," he said, sounding pleased. "Shall we go greet them?"

"Yes," Nebula said with a vicious, victorious sounding hiss. "Remember, you may help me in dealing with them, but I will be the one to end Gamora's life."

"Fine by me," Loki said with an uncaring shrug. "What about the rest of them? Do you want them dead or alive?"

"Don't care," Nebula said with a shake of her head. "Kill them or leave them alive to wallow in their despair. Just leave Gamora to me."