The call to battle had been sent out. Every Skrull was needed to fight in this final struggle. Baclath scoffed to herself – as if the humans defense would be a struggle. More like a picnic, a feast of blood and suffering that the Skrulls would grow fat on.
And yet, the ‘heroes’ of this planet were surprisingly fierce. Baclath found herself alone in the city, surrounded on all sides. Her disguise was intact, as far as she knew. Did she fight alongside her Skrull brethren? Or did she continue the subterfuge? It was too difficult to say, and now, perched on the rooftop, she found herself unsure of what to do. And that was when she saw Peter Quill – or more precisely, Vorian in his disguise. This at least, she could be sure of, with the real Peter Quill dead and out of the picture. She clumsily shot a tether arrow and landed beside the man.
“He loves us,” she said by way of greeting, bowing her head to her superior. “I am yours to command, Vorian. What do we do?”
The battle was what Vorian had been anticipating for weeks. As a soldier, he grew tired of continuing to replicate the bumbling idiot Peter Quill. The Guardians of Galaxy, a laughable title, had never once suspected him. It was a peculiar manner, he expected Gamora, someone reputable throughout the galaxy, to be a challenging adversary, but ultimately, he had been wrong. Perhaps Thanos had destroyed her logical thinking capability, perhaps she was simply blinded by love. Regardless, Vorian was pleased that he managed to do his job seamlessly, and now he would excel where he truly belonged: on the battlefield.
Safely in his disguise as Peter Quill, undetected, he was perched on a roof across from the Mothership. He had Quill’s dual blasters in hands, decent weapons, but nothing overly impressive, and rocket boots strapped to his feet. From this vantage point, he could temporarily act as a sharpshooter, destroying the humans as they entered the fray.
Surprisingly, someone seemed to share his ingenious idea, and an arrow clumsily was shot his way. Baclath jumped down, and he offered her an idiotic smile as Quill would in lieu of greeting. “He loves us,” Vorian intoned. “From my understanding, you remain undetected. My plan was to destroy the humans as they enter from here until our… allies… realize we are in disguise, if you would like to join me.” He paused before asking, “How did your assignment go?”
Summary: Peter finally talks to the Skrulls again, and it goes as well as you could expect.
Triggers: death, violence.
“We gotta break outta here soon or later,” Peter announced, glancing around the cell. “I can’t remember the last time I got more than a little sludge for lunch, and y’know, the food wasn’t great in space. My standards aren’t high!” The reason for his suggested breakout was vain on the surface, but the truth was, the Skrulls resented him for what the Celestials had done. The handlers never let him forget, and their punishment would come eventually. They were highly organized beings, and Peter had every intention to return to the Guardians. If he didn’t do it within the next week or so, he was worried it wouldn’t happen at all, especially with their constant bragging about the conquest of Earth -- as if!
“Ah, what kind of attempt was that?” Peter scoffed. “I’m talking an all out breakout attempt. Jessica uses her venom blasts, Sam does some squawking, Natasha glares...” he trailed off. “We all play to our strengths!”
“You’re an idiot, Quill,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes. “We all know we’re stuck in here. Their technology is better than ours, there’s no getting near the cell door.”
Peter snickered, “I’m from space. I busted out of the highest security prison singlehanded. I can handle some Skrulls.”
As if on cue, the aliens entered the room, food in hand. Cowering in the corner, a politician, Orse, Peter thought his name was, cleared his throat. “Peter Quill is planning an escape attempt. I recommend reviewing the footage.”
Without his translator, Peter had no idea what the Skrulls murmured between the two of them, but lunchtime was promptly forgotten. The green assholes hightailed it out of there, and he turned on Orse immediately. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demanded. “You want to die in here?”
“Should have planned a little more covertly,” Jessica recommended.
Natasha snickered from beside her.
“It’s a shame, man,” Sam said, finally offering some sympathy.
“Fuck,” Peter muttered, and leaned his head against the wall. Immediately foiled, there was no chance he was going to escape. Hell, that meant he probably wouldn’t live. At least the Guardians knew how much he cared about them, and Gamora knew he loved her. She’d be pissed off, and more than a little lethal, but she was aware. That counted for something. He never got to tell his mom that he loved her one last time, and it a regret he carried everywhere.
----
Thirty minutes later, the Skrulls entered, and roughly opened his cell. Sam shot him a pitying look, and Orse stood proudly in the corner, most likely assuming he’d get some kind of credit for this. Pushing his shoulders back, Peter stepped outside, and followed them down the long hallway. From the windows, he could see the familiar sights of the galaxy, and smiled faintly. At least it felt like Yondu was him.
“So what’s this about?” He asked conversationally. “You wanna hear my master plan? Guess what, losers, getting caught was part of it!”
Still without a translator, their words completely went beyond him, but he liked to think there was some major swearing.
Suddenly, Peter was shoved into a small, tight room. A single Skrull entered with him, and it was armed. Unsurprised, he raised his chin, and tightened his fist. If Ego were here, god forbid, he would have erased the entire ship from the world, recreated it in his narcissistic image, but luckily, Peter had never been like his father. He was a lot more decent, not completely, but hey, no one was perfect. Tightening his fist, he attempted to turn the gun into Mrs. Pac Man. A wave of dizziness immediately followed. God, he could really go for a steak right about now.
Slowly, the gun began to change, but the Skrull seemed prepared for that. It pulled another gun from its boot and threw the changing one aggressively towards him. Narrowly, Peter attempted to dodge, but the blow felt like a bag of hammers had hit him. Peter groaned, and the Skrull wordlessly handed him a small device, a translator, he figured.
Once the device was in his ear, the Skrull said, “You are foolish if you believe you can escape, Peter Quill. Of all our prisoners, you are the one we would most like to see suffer. Your people hurt us, and we must return that pain.”
“Is this an S&M thing?” He replied cockily.
The Skrull didn’t seem to enjoy his joke, which honestly, was a little insulting. It shot him in the leg, and immediately, the wound burned. “You believe we are joking, but we can no longer afford liabilities. Our scientists would have enjoyed time with you, this is most unfortunate.”
“Ah, come on, we can’t even talk it out?” Clint would have laughed at that one, he was the only guy who’d appreciate the whole joking in the face of imminent doom shtick.
Before the Skrull could respond, Peter elbowed him in the nose, and stole the guy. Without hesitation, he shot him, right between the eyes, and then dashed out of the little room. Unsurprisingly, several Skrulls were standing right outside, waiting for him. “Fancy seeing you here,” he muttered. The blaster wasn’t anything like his own, but he was still a great shot, and he wasted no time in trying to blow a few to bits.
The fight didn’t last long. One versus thirteen, give or take a couple, was odds only Gamora could win in. A Skrulls arms wrapped tightly around him, and a vial was being jabbed into his neck. Whatever the substance was, he assumed he wanted absolutely none of it near him.
“We have finally killed the last Celestial,” one of them proclaimed proudly. “Within a few moments, our enemy will no longer remain. He loves us!”
“He loves us,” the rest chimed in.
That was how Peter realized that within moments, he would be reunited with his mother, and Yondu.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be seeing the Guardians again for a long, long time.
Summary: Kate has the pleasure of running into Vorian.
ft @futzyou
New Year’s. It was her absolute favorite holiday, always had been. She loved the parties and the confetti and the simplicity of it. But this year, it meant more to Kate than ever before. The idea of a clean slate, starting over, being better -- it really hit home this time. She was determined to have fun at this Bugle Bash, even if they were calling her “The Red Terror” in their headlines. (Futzheads.)
She arrived in Times Square and breathed in the scent of a New York crowd -- fried food and spilled beer, the air thick with the little puffs of everyone’s cold breath. She’d come alone, but she figured it wouldn’t be long before she spotted a familiar face. Even if Jameson didn’t like heroes, heroes liked his parties. She hoped to see someone soon. People were already starting to give her looks, as if she had a choice when it came to looking like this.
Peter Quill wasn’t the first one she expected to see, but her heart jumped for joy when she saw him in the sea of people. “Quill!” she shouted, but he didn’t hear her apparently. He was hurrying down an alleyway, away from everyone else. It was weird, but hey, most of Clint’s friends (her included) were a little weird. Kate pushed and shoved her way through the crowd until she got to the same alley, and then she followed after him.
It was a longer, darker alley than she’d first thought. But she heard a voice not far ahead, around a bend. It didn’t exactly sound like Quill, but maybe the echo was just making it sound weird. Kate slowed down just in case, and peered around the corner. Her eyes went wide, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Quill was standing there, spitting into a phone of some kind, but he didn’t look like Quill anymore. She wouldn’t have known it was him if not for the familiar jacket. His skin was green. His features elongated and sharp, ridges on his chin. Skrull. Peter Quill had been replaced. Kate’s mind started reeling. She had to tell someone, she had to tell Clint. The two of them were hanging out all the time! But wait -- what if he’d already gotten to Clint? Replaced him too? The thought made Kate sick to her stomach. She had to know.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the shadows. “Jig’s up, pal!” she shouted, placing a hand on her hip. “I know what you are, caught you in the act!” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s like, so over for you. So just tell me one thing -- does Clint know?”
Countless injuries spread across Vorian’s body, all subtle attempts to assassinate Gamora due to her pointless love for Peter Quill. She would certainly die defending him, though unfortunately, it had not come to that yet. Of course Vorian had to be careful not to kill himself, but Skrulls were far more durable than meagre Celestials. That much had been proved in the experiments the race conducted upon them. Shockingly, the last battle had pushed him past his pain threshold. He could feel his control over his shapeshift slowly fading as the pain intensified, coming from a gut wound an alien purposefully landed on him.
Quickly Vorian bid his farewells to the crowd he lost himself in and rushed down an alley, clutching his stomach. His bandages were soaked through, as was his shirt, but it was nothing he could not handle once he was returned to his true form. Quick thinking, he entered a deserted alleyway, and called Veranke to inform her of the situation. “My injuries are quickly becoming unmanageable,” he told her. As he spoke, he allowed Peter Quill’s image to dissipate, and returned to his true form.
As Veranke began speaking, Vorian heard clicking heels against the cement. He turned towards the figure, and immediately recognized the woman from Peter’s memories. Kate Bishop was Hawkeye’s protege, and a hero in her own right. No human could know that Peter Quill, Star-Lord, was replaced. For that slight, she would typically die. However, replacing Kate Bishop would be far more useful. He wordlessly hung up on Veranke and slowly approached her, a hand on each of Peter Quill’s blasters. “A mistake on your part,” he replied simply. Vorian stopped directly in front of Kate, knowing that she was most dangerous at a distance. “Clint will never know a thing, and he will not know that his precious protege has been replaced. Did you not even think to bring a friend?” He chuckled, “Peter Quill would have expected more of you. I know better, you humans are all foolish.”
Kate knew that the smart move would be to be scared. After all, these aliens had the entire city running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They’d killed people, led to the events of the summer. They were dangerous. But she was dangerous too. She’d been trained by Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.
Both their voices were in her head. Nat’s was admonishing her for not calling for backup before she confronted him. But that might’ve let him get away, and she was not having that. If he got away and got to Clint during that time, she never would’ve fogriven herself. Besides, the skrulls had enough space experts on their side, it gave her a chance to even the playing field.
When he stepped directly in front of her, she curled her red hand into a fist and slammed it against the side of his head. That was Clint’s training in her head. She might’ve been new to these powers, but a punch was a punch. “I don’t need friends to take you down,” she snapped, aiming a kick for his side. Had he been muttering about injuries before? She might actually be able to pull this off! “Who looks foolish now, dude?”
Kate Bishop was unsurprisingly attempting to fight back. Being Hakweye’s protege, Vorian suspected no less from the young woman. Her punch barely affected him, luckily his injuries were focused between his ribcage and legs, tender areas, but rarely fatal. “My kingdom will surely break you from that spunk,” he replied, sounding bored with the whole ordeal. “As for not needing friends, I cannot wait to see Clint tomorrow. We have some… exciting plans. I am relieved you cannot ruin them since you will be indisposed.” Taunting her by using Clint Barton was undeniably cruel, but Vorian had left behind morality where other races were involved long ago.
Vorian flashed her a toothy smile as she asked her question. His grip tightened on the blaster, and he pushed the barrel against her thigh, a mercy blow. “You still look foolish, Kate Bishop. You should have retreated and taken out your bow and arrow.” As he spoke, he shot her, a clean burn right through. Quill’s blasters were far cleaner than the prehistoric weaponry Earth’s sharpshooters used. With a hit to the head, Kate Bishop was promptly knocked out, her wounds non-lethal. He heaved her over one shoulder, and then called Veranke back, requesting extraction.
—
Safely inside a safe house their fearless Queen had found for them, Vorian stood beside his friend, Baclath. She was a young Skrull, but ambitious, and perfect to replace the young Hawkeye. “I expect that you’ll repay me in some way for finding you a host, Baclath. A break from Clint Barton will do.”
[ ◈ ] my muse makes a drunk confession to your muse.
Gamora was Vorian’s most difficult foe, but she was not worth all the fuss people seemed to make about her intelligence, her lethality. Perhaps it was because she was far too lovestruck to realize her boyfriend, Peter Quill, had been replaced by a Skrull. More likely was that Vorian was delightfully conniving, and excellent at his job. Sat outside the Milano, he glanced towards Gamora, who was sharpening one of her knives. The two had been drinking, though Vorian had carefully concealed the amount of alcohol he had consumed. It would be foolish to underestimate Gamora this far into the game, they were so close to their invasion’s success. Slurring, he said, “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.” It was what a drunken Peter Quill would say in hopes to woo Gamora. “You kicked my ass, and I immediately knew you were the best, y’know?”
[ ☻ ] my muse wakes up in your muse’s closet the night after a party.
Peter Quill’s life was absolutely awful. Enduring the company of Clint Barton was a punishment no one truly deserved, although with enough alcohol in Vorian’s system, he eventually became less lethal to be around. Last night had been no different. One bottle of gin later, and he no longer stared wistfully at the knives in the kitchen. In the morning, Vorian’s stomach was rolling, and he woke up entrapped in a startlingly small, and filthy space. Alarmed, he immediately hit the door, and then the closet opened. For a brief moment, he thought Clint Barton had attempted to interrogate him, but the man was nowhere near intelligent enough to realize something had changed with his ‘buddy.’ “Dude,” Vorian called out, replicating Peter’s content tone. “Last night was awesome! Let’s make some pancakes! Wake up, dude!” He said, yawning.
(✉ → lando calrissian): hey man! i was just thinking, and i was wondering if you think nat would ever be down for a foursome! i think i could talk gamora into it, she thinks nat’s hot. it’d be awesome, man.
(✉ → the deadliest hottie in the galaxy): hey gamora you looked so beautiful today!(✉ → the deadliest hottie in the galaxy): just a reminder that you take my breath away, just like that corny song! ;)
(✉ → the deadliest hottie in the galaxy): hey gamora! i bought you your very own cassette player!(✉ → the deadliest hottie in the galaxy): i put all my favourite music on it for you. i think you’re gonna love it!
( ✉ → rocket man ) i heard something from a v reliable source
( ✉ → rocket man ) something about u and a certain green lady
( ✉ → rocket man ) we need to celebrate!!! alien party at my place this weekend?
five minutes later
( ✉ → rocket man ) i just realised thats a terrible fucking idea
(✉ → 💰💰💰): dude, who’s your source?
(✉ → 💰💰💰): wow, she sounds hot. you know her?
(✉ → 💰💰💰): holy shit! let’s do it! dude, drax is great at parties. he takes everything literally. it’s hilarious.
[five minutes later]
(✉ → 💰💰💰): nah, it’s the best idea you’ve ever had. i’ll let everyone know.
“Hey, I know you!” Kate said, when she spotted him. “And I don’t mean Indiana Jones, although, super cool choice. Those movies are totally great, what’s not to love about an adventuring hottie who’s also an intellectual?” She sighed happily and grinned at him. “Remember me? We talked about music once, it was like, forever ago.” Kate was talking a mile a minute, but that was solely from the energy of the room. “Wait. Are you the guy Clint’s been going on about? He said he was gonna get someone to dress up as Indy. Talk about a small world!” She laughed, and the sound was bright, happy, just like it used to be. Maybe a little drunker than normal, but it was a party.
“You totally know me!” Vorian agreed, forcing himself to sound cheerful. “If you know anything about Indiana Jones, you know me. I’m an adventuring hottie that’s intellectual, y’know.” At least Clint Barton had made choosing a costume easy. Peter would never skip a party, particularly one that his ‘buddy’ Tony Stark hosted. “I remember you. You’re the kid that Clint talks about all the time!” One of them at least. Clint talked about countless people all the time. At least she seemed to be in a good mood, Vorian mused. “That’s me! We’re super tight, me and Clint. We hang out all the time.” Unfortunately.
Things in New York had been crazy lately, to say the least. After the Panel’s reveal of yet another Skrull in the government and all the drama that came along with it, it was sort of unrealistic to expect things to simmer down. Even in a place like New York, where people were used to chaos, this was a lot. It made Clint glad that he had people around to watch his back, and even gladder that they didn’t mind distracting him from everything going on.
Quill was probably one of his funnest distractions. The guy was seriously a man after Clint’s own heart; fun-loving, entertaining, and not afraid to get arrested. It made them pretty much the perfect team. Clint drummed impatiently on the side of the car he’d borrowed from Nat, grinning as he finally saw Peter jogging over. “Hey, man!” he greeted cheerfully, pushing himself from his position of leaning against the hood. “You ready to roll out? I know Philly isn’t Egypt, but I figure we oughta start small. Road trip first, then we fly a plane outta the country, right?”
Peter Quill was not an easy person to adjust to. He was rambunctious, loud and difficult to replicate. Without his memories, Vorian was positive that it would have been impossible. His demeanour was strangely specific, and on occasion, forced. Truthfully, he expected the Guardians to be more difficult to fool. Gamora was renowned as the deadliest woman as the galaxy, not the smartest, he mused. Drax was a destroyer, not a scholar, and the other two were mere hybrids.
Today was his next task, although he was far from wary. Clint Barton, like Peter Quill’s team did not seem particularly intellectual. As long as he made him laughing, forcing foolish quips from the Celestial’s lips, he would face no skepticism. As he exited the ship, he began jogging towards Quill’s comrade with a grin on his lips. “Hey, buddy!” Vorian said excitedly as he climbed into the car. “I was ready like three weeks ago,” he forced himself to sound enthusiastic. “I’unno, I think we could handle Egypt now, but you’d miss your wife. Lame, dude, lame.” He put in a CD and raised an eyebrow, “You mind?” Quill’s friend was deaf, he understood. “Hey, guess what! I forgot to tell you Gamora and I are like a thing now for real!” It was extremely unfortunate.
Getting rid of Peter Quill had come as nothing but a relief to Veranke. Just knowing a Celestial had been loose on Earth had left her heart pounding against her ribcage and her pulse quick in her throat. She was too young to know the cruelties that Skrulls had suffered thanks to Quill’s kind – every Skrull still living was – but she had heard the stories. Each one was coated in fear, each word whispered in terror. Initially she’d thought killing him to be the best solution, but that decision had been an emotional one. At the end of the day, they could always use him for something. Perhaps, when all this was over, they could take him apart the same way his ancestors had done to hers, figure out what made Celestials tick. It wasn’t a bad idea.
Perhaps moreso, Veranke was excited to have Vorian in place on Earth. Truthfully, she’d longed to have him in place sooner, but she hadn’t wanted to risk it. The bond the two Skrulls shared was not one that was known by their people, nor was it one she wished to expose. As much as she loved her people, they could be fickle at times, and if they knew the invasion’s success was not the only thing her heart longed for, they may very well seek to replace her. Veranke had worked far too hard to get to where she was to see such a thing happen.
And so, she’d waited. She’d put Vorian into place later than she might have liked, and she arranged to meet him in secrecy for their initial reunion. She wanted to be free to speak as she chose, and this was the best way to do that. Hearing footsteps approach, she turned, letting a smile grace her features. It was rare; this smile was not Jessica’s, but Veranke’s alone. “I can’t say I like the new look,” she told him with a smirk, “but it is good to see you.”
It was an honour to be chosen to replace Peter Quill. He was a critical target to replace, the only living Celestial, as far they knew, and one of the greatest threats alongside Captain Marvel, the Scarlet Witch, Wonder Woman and Superman. Ensuring that his team did not discover their leader missing was crucial, although Vorian highly doubted they would possess a problem. Pathetic as it was, Quill was the mastermind behind the operation. He was the one who united the criminals and continually forced them together. So long as he forced ridiculous quips from his lips and smiled widely, they would never suspect a thing. So much for the ‘family’ Quill believed them to be.
Reuniting with his queen was thrilling. Not only was the nature of their relationship something he privately missed, Verkane was brilliant, and she made him feel exhilarated, alive, in ways he could hardly fathom. She was also his inspiration, a role model to their people everywhere showcasing the demands this invasion took. Earth was not to be harmed, merely its people subdued in order to ensure the Skrull race thrived. She would not fail in giving a renewed sense of purpose.
Their first meeting was in private, something Vorian was excited about. So long as they were hidden, they were free to behave as themselves momentarily. When he approached, a genuine smile crossed his face, an expression that Quill would never wear. “I’ve seen you look far more beautiful in the past,” he said smoothly. “But I’m pleased to be reunited nonetheless. How has Earth treated you, my queen?”
Jessica was watching the crowd more than the never-ending loop of Drew’s broadcast. The telltale signs of panic were easy to see. People watching with their hands clasped over their mouths, their eyes wide with fear. It was nauseating, And a little repulsive, but Jessica couldn’t exactly blame them. Christ, hadn’t this city been through enough?
She turned towards the voice, and rolled her eyes. “Not a man,” she said, lowering her hood. “And it’s beyond my pay-grade,” she said simply. She heard the reports droning on in the background, but she kept her attention on him. He was the only one who seemed… caviler about this. But panic could manifest that way, she knew that much. “But if I were an alien race intent on invasion, I’d infiltrate everything, wouldn’t you?”
“Right, sorry the nickname’s a force of habit,” Vorian said lightly, easily channeling Quill’s cavalier demeanour. He had spoken to this woman in the past and she’d proven to be touchy, although he was far from her fan. Jessica, she had said her name was. “Think it’s beyond all our pay-grade,” he said, snorting. “The Avengers don’t even gotta clue.” Weeks ago Tony had begged Quill for answers he simply could not provide. The Skrulls were thankfully a secretive race. “Yeah, I guess I would, too,” he replied, a rare moment of seriousness for Quill. “Starting with the government, but now we know they’re there. Think we gotta do some digging, huh?”
Earth was in chaos. It hadn’t been doing particularly well prior to the Skrulls’ arrival, of course, nor had it begun to look up in the weeks since, but the newest development regarding this sector’s government and its apparent part in the invasion had made matters far worse. Gamora had seen destruction far worse, of course, but it was still difficult to tear her gaze from the screens depicting the aftermath of the ill-fated press conference.
The sound of a familiar voice tore her gaze from the television set in front of her at last, and she offered Peter a small smile as he approached. “You and I both know that Skrulls are hardly hailed for their intelligence,” she pointed out with a shrug, nodding lightly towards the television. “It makes sense that they’d attack those in positions of power first, though I doubt that is the only place they’re hiding. I’ve found them similar to your planet’s insects; where there is one, there are many.”
Peter Quill loved Gamora in a way that Vorian did not understand. Unconditionally, he loved his queen, although the feeling was far from the thrill that Quill felt when he looked upon the deadliest woman in the galaxy. It was a wonderful tactical position to be in. She trusted Peter Quill, would sacrifice her life for him, and that was precisely what Vorian planned to force her to do. The second she was eliminated was the second their invasion was closer to success.
Now that their relationship was official, Vorian was forced to show her affection he never would have attempted weeks prior. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When she spoke of Skrulls, he nodded along seriously, bemused by her berating of people’s intelligence. A Skrull was standing before her, inhabiting the body of the man she loved without her suspecting. “I’m shocked they’re managing to pull this off,” Vorian said, chuckling. “I bet it’s ‘cause Earth never bothered protecting itself from the galaxy. No other planet would have this issue, y’know?” He nodded along as she continued. “You think we could find out who they’ve infected? If anyone could, it’d be you.”
