Y/N: *huffs* *sighs*
Nebula: What?
Y/N: Huh?
Nebula: What is it? You keep sighing.
Y/N: Sorry, I hadn’t realised that I was sighing! I’ll stop-
Nebula: -No, just tell me what is wrong. We’re friends, aren’t we? That’s what friends do.
Is nebula a top or bottom with another woman - i need to know please and give examples to explain your answer 😜
Trick question - she’s a switch. Happy holidays, y’all!
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Nebula has never let people into her life - openness simply didn’t come naturally. But she was naturally stubborn, always had been. Thanos’s influence had only reinforced her natural pigheadedness. She’d been trained alongside her so-called siblings since the day Thanos took her in to get the job done by any means necessary without succumbing to the influences around her. Whatever needed to be done, she could do it. Suffice it to say that her lifestyle wasn’t great for personal relationships.
And of course, she was known as the biggest sadist in the galaxy for many. She’d gotten that title early on in life, always showing a propensity for being harder, better, meaner than everyone else. That special brand of sadism stretched over most aspects of her life, all the way down to the fun, sexy stuff. When a job needed to be completed with allure rather than outright murderous force, she would use her proclivities to keep the upper hand. There’s flattery, there’s touching and whispers in her mark’s ear in her honeyed voice, and there’s control.
Yeah, she has an issue with control. She knows. No, there’s not much she can do to alleviate that. But with you… Well, you’re different. There’s control - and make no mistake, she loves that control - but then there’s the conscious choice to relinquish that control. And it’s very, very enticing.
It took you a long time to chip away at the mild suspicion Nebula carries for every living thing around her, but once you’d proven yourself to be different, the good soul was able to show through. And once you finally had her trust, your few-and-far-between nights together evolved from you on your back with your hands and feet tied to a smooth exchange of responsibility. To that end, you’d convinced Nebula, finally, to give up the control she craves.
Tonight is your night to call the shots. Nebula agreed to it, promised, and Nebula doesn’t back out on her promises.
When Nebula showed up at your room on Contraxia, she’d dressed in her usual leather-esque armor and a thick cloak to keep her warm in the planet’s frozen tundra. A delicate web of frost covered the mechanical parts of her face, as they were the only bits of her that couldn’t fight the cold. She hung up her cloak by the door and stood just beyond the threshold of the door.
Nebula had never been great at hiding her feelings with you, but she’d always been able to present a strong front. But when she stood before you in your personal chambers, she was visibly nervous.
“You’re late,” you said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You crossed your legs and waited for her to step inside and close the door.
Nebula surveyed your room, gaze lingering on the flashy colors. Your room is a hodgepodge of color, bright and airy, filled to capacity with pillows and blankets, and altogether wholesome. Luckily for you, you’d been given a room where the view from your window was the backside of Contraxia, all trees and snowflakes, so you could at least pretend that your visits together took place in a beautiful winter wonderland rather than a sprawling space brothel.
“You know my father doesn’t like to stop here,” Nebula replied. She shut the door behind her and meandered in a little further from the door. “Gamora has a job to do here. Hence why I was able to come at all.”
You sighed, guilty. You know its not her fault that she’s late, but it had been months since you’d seen her in person. Her absence had been stifling. “I’m sorry. I’m grateful for any time I get to spend with you, even if it’s not as much as I would like.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Nebula said. She was wholly out of place among the warm tones; they made her blue skin pop even more brightly. “He’s been… even more strict with leave lately.”
You motioned for Nebula to come sit next to you, and she meandered over with hesitation. You understood why she was still nervous to meet you sometimes, even though you’d tried to convince her that she (and you) was safe on Contraxia. But she’d been trained to never be fully at ease anywhere, and it would take a long time - if ever - to convince her that she was safe with you in your room. “Do you think he knows?”
“About us?” Nebula asks, staring at your face. You reached out to take her hands and settled them into your lap. “Yes, I’m sure he does. But he does not begrudge any of us what he deems are… small distractions. He considers it generosity - a reward for being cooped up on the ship for so long.”
You rubbed circles into the backs of her hands with your thumbs, smirking. “I’d say I’m more than a small distraction.”
Nebula nodded. “I agree. He, on the other hand, does not share the same opinion.”
You take her chin and tilt it towards you. She’s taller than you, even sitting down. “Well, best to let him believe what he wants to believe. About this, at least.”
“We don’t have as much time as I would like,” Nebula said, mirroring your movement. She took your cheek in her hand, her thumb bracing your chin. “But we do have tonight.”
“Let’s not waste time, then.” You stood up and pulled Nebula to her feet. “Are you still okay with the proposed arrangement this time?”
Nebula averted her eyes. “…Yes.”
“You hesitated. Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can do the usual…”
“I am eager,” Nebula said, matter-of-factly. “But I am… not used to this.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation that time. That was a good sign. She usually hesitated if you asked her that. You stood up on your tiptoes to kiss her. “Then you know I’ll stop if you want.”
“Yes,” Nebula said. “Well, let’s begin.”
You walked over to your nightstand and produced two lengths of black fabric. You set them on the edge of the bed before turning to face her. “Undress, then.”
“Undress me,” Nebula said, automatically.
You grinned. “That’s not the arrangement.”
Nebula twitched. "You're right."
She moved to start undressing, reaching behind her back to grab at her zipper, but you stopped her before she could pull it down. You took her hands and brought one up to your face so you could kiss the inside of her wrist. "I can see how uncomfortable you are, you know."
"I won’t be uncomfortable for long. I will deal with it."
"I don't want you to deal with it. I want you to enjoy this experience," you insisted. You brought both her hands up to your chest and held them there, right against your heart. “I never get to see you, Nebula. I don’t get to offer you this nearly as often as you deserve. If your complete enjoyment means we change the arrangement this time, then that’s fine.”
“I will enjoy it,” Nebula assured, though you could see she almost didn’t believe it herself. “This is different. I will adapt.”
“Please, please, tell me if you-”
“Yes.” Nebula pulled her hands away and reached behind her back again. “I believe you told me to undress?”
You searched her face, looking for any hint that she may back out. You knew better than to believe she ultimately would, though. She would eschew her own comfort in the face of backing down from a challenge. You supposed, at the end of the day, that was the basis of this arrangement anyway - trading the comfort and safety of the usual affair for a different pleasure.
“...I did, yes,” you said, stepping back away from her. “Leave your clothes on the chair when you’ve finished.”
Nebula obeyed without another word, first removing the leather-substitute vest she favorited. She discarded the band underneath next, exposing her torso completely. You watched intently, gaze lingering on her face, her neck, her soft breasts; she didn’t shy away from your gaze, merely meeting it with her usual intensity. Next, her pants and underwear followed. She folded her clothes into a neat stack and deposited them on the chair in the corner of the room.
You crooked your finger when she looked at you expectantly. “Come here.”
Nebula’s march was slow, purposeful, as she crossed the room. As many times as you’d seen her like this - naked, stalking through your room like a cat - you would never get tired of it. Every scar, every modification, every inch of her was perfect. Even if this arrangement was different, even if you were the one commanding her this time, her presence was inescapable, as if she had her own gravitational pull. You would make sure that she received the utmost pleasure despite her reservations and her discomfort.
“Undress me. Leave everything in the chair.”
Nebula removed everything from the top down, piece by piece, and folded it all into a neat little stack. Her fingers twitched at every clasp, wanting to touch and feel, but she continued on without faltering. You hadn’t been wearing many layers to begin with, so it didn’t take her long to remove everything and consolidate it into a small stack. Once she was finished, she left everything in the chair and returned to her place.
“Sit.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting on the sheets next to her. You slipped between her legs, nudging her thighs apart with your knees. You placed your palms on her cheeks and turned her face up to look at you.
“You will listen…” you began, rubbing circles into her cheekbones with your thumbs. She nodded, careful not to shake your hands off. “I am going to tie your hands above your head. You may speak, if you wish. I may inflict pain, if the mood strikes. I will stop immediately if you use your words, and we will evaluate how to proceed from there.”
Nebula answered with a wordless, slight nod.
“Very well,” you said. “Let’s begin.”
You leaned in to kiss her, pressing your mouth to hers. She surged up to meet you, hungry and eager for physical contact. Her lips were soft and pliant, wholly perfect as they moulded to yours. Your hands slipped down from her cheeks to her shoulders, squeezing all the taut muscle. That would have to be enough for the time being; you wanted to make her work for it.
You pushed her shoulders gently and stepped away. “Lay back. Cross your wrists above your head.”
Again, she obeyed. You climbed into her lap and straddled her waist, reaching out for one of the black ties you’d left on the bed earlier. As you leaned over her to tie the cloth around her wrists, your breasts hung in her face, inviting her to kiss, to bite, to suck. You almost wished she would, but she remained still. Her only movement was the strained twitch of her wrists when you tied the cloth around them.
You slid down her body and stopped to press a kiss to her throat and trailed your lips down her chest, pausing to flick her nipple with your tongue. You circled each peak languidly with the tip of your tongue, taking special care to rasp over them until you were sure she must have been getting sore. Still, she stayed silent and still. Such determination she had - it made you smile. You took one dusty blue nipple between your teeth and bit down, finally pulling a whimper from deep in her throat. She bucked against you, but you held her hips down with your elbows.
You moved up to hover over her, making sure that she could see your face. “I am going to make you make that noise again. I will make you moan louder every single time.”
You sat up and moved to the side so that you straddled just her thigh. You trailed your hand down her body to the junction between her legs and probed down the line of her clit. You dipped the tip of your finger in and found her already dripping wet. In an effort to make her moan again, you pressed the pad of your thumb down against her clit and pushed a finger in, massaging in slow circles. With your other hand, you continued to tease the breast closest to your side, pinching and pulling at her nipple.
Her fists clenched and unclenched, but she made no move to pull them free. You pushed another finger in and she whimpered again, inviting you to press down harder, pump your fist faster. You declined to oblige and maintained the same slow, torturous pace.
“Harder,” she gasped, bucking up against your hand.
“Was that an order?” you asked, rubbing your cunt against her thigh.
“A request.”
Instead of doing as she asked, you pulled your fingers out and climbed off of her thigh. She breathed deep and relaxed back into your mattress, equal parts frustrated by and relieved for the short reprieve. And didn’t she look perfect - legs spread, hands tied above her head, watching you like she’d chase you to the ends of the universe.
“I’m not taking requests tonight.” You reached for the second length of cloth. It had been shoved to a corner of the mattress, almost completely off the bed. “I think it’s time we moved on… Lift your head.”
You tied the cloth around her head, covering her eyes. She tensed up, scrunching up her nose and clenching her fists again. Once you’d secured the blindfold in place, you ran your palm down her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. This kiss wasn’t like the first - heated and hungry. This was soft and reassuring, just the brush of your mouth on hers - a promise that she was in good hands. She leaned into the kiss but didn’t unclench her hands.
“Relax,” you murmured into her ear, kissing her cheek. You climbed off the bed and strode over to your dresser. In the second drawer was a gilded little box, just large enough to house a small collection of toys you saved just for Nebula. You extracted a harness and slipped it on over your hips, affixing the necessary equipment to the proper place. Once you were satisfied your harness was secure, you fished a second toy out of the box and a bottle of lube. “Roll onto your stomach.”
Nebula complied, but slowly. She was perfect from head to toe, taut and muscular - battle-hardened. You ran your hand down her spine, marvelling at the bumps and cords of muscle overlayed with knotted scars and half-healed scratches. She flexed, arching into your touch, and sighed your name.
“Is the teasing necessary?” Nebula huffed, impatient as always.
“Only to make you learn patience,” you replied, smirking.
You slipped your hand down between her thighs and found her entrance, working your fingers into the softness. Her breath hitched with every movement, muscles twitching and contracting as you stretched her open and placed the tip of the toy against her. You extracted your fingers and eased the tip in, moving just slowly enough to let her adjust to the feeling. Her thighs tensed, trembling, as you eased all the way in, circling her clit with just enough pressure to make her groan.
You moved experimentally, thrusting in and out as slowly as you could. Nebula groaned again, made a noise that was close to words, but cut off when you pushed in just a little harder. She clenched her fists again, unable to move to gain any kind of relief, and shoved her cheek down into the mattress. You thrust in again, this time hard enough to make her spine arch. You leaned over her, pressing down against her back and continuously moving your hips, and licked the shell of her ear.
“Stop teasing and let me-”
You kissed the spot just under her earlobe. “That sounds like an order. Do you want me to stop?”
“No, just-”
You thrust again, cutting her off with a loud groan. “Just what? Please, do tell.”
“Just let me come.”
It wasn’t an order so much as it was begging, albeit in Nebula’s curt voice. It was the closest you’d ever heard her come to pleading - or even asking nicely. You thought about teasing her into saying please, but it was extremely likely that you’d never get her to that point. She’d choke on the words before they’d come out of her mouth.
You giggled in her ear, enjoying the shiver that ran down her spine. “You’re so sensitive. Go ahead.”
You thrust again, circling her clit, until she tensed under you. When she finally unclenched, she rested against your mattress, almost boneless. You pulled out and dropped the harness to the floor before climbing onto the bed next to her and pulling her into your lap. You pull the tie on the fabric around her wrists and eyes and toss each length to the side.
“Are you okay?” you asked, kissing the top of Nebula’s head. She looked up at you, equal parts soft and fierce. Your heart aches knowing that she can’t stay here with you, but you’ve resolved to make the most of the rest of your night.
Nebula doesn’t answer so much as climbs on top of you. You take that to mean she’s okay.
Request: this may be kind of silly, i know there's not a lot of content for her anywhere, but could i request a nebula x reader, something comforting and fluffy? it makes me so sad that she's never really had a real friend, or much affection at all D: maybe something where the reader is very gentle with her, and how she adjusts to that when she's never been treated with kindness before. any point in the MCU timeline is just fine.
Plot: Nebula has not had the chance to endure softness in her life and is baffled, yet touched, when you show her some. (No Endgame spoilers, but there are some light elements of the movie that can be recognized if you have seen it.)
A/N: Mm, fluff. Yummy. Totally down for more Nebula wink wink nudge nudge. And this was the only thing I got finished today, I’ve bumped the others up to post Wednesday.
Warnings: None
Word Count Total: 312
Short Imagine #303
Title: Just Learning
It was the little things that mattered to Nebula when you two were together at the Compound. Your fingers gracefully touching her exposed robotic one, the small smile you would give her when you saw her enter the room even if you two just saw each other, the care you put into her charging station for her completely robotic limbs or ordered any joint oil early before she needed it. You taught her human games and while she knew you threw some of them after the fact, she was grateful you let her win when she was just learning. The way you talked to her assured her that you knew she wasn’t a monster or an object.
But she just wasn’t sure how to react. There were confused looks in her brow, calculating looks at niceties, even shying away if she dropped something. You would always reach out, palm upturned and open, if she looked at you with fear. Her fingers would touch yours on the tips and you would wait for her hand to advance before holding it to calm her.
She was free, but she always reacted as if she expected retaliation for anything she did wrong.
With you, she was a lot calmer and learning to open up around you. Each smile from you did wonders for her mood and she was getting used to giving you a smile back. It had been so long since she had smiled last.
Occasionally, you would fall asleep on the couch from a long day and she would wrap a blanket around you and fix the pillow under your head. She didn’t quite know how to express affection back, but she was learning, and you knew there was no reason to rush her when you had all the time you needed. One day, she would figure out just how to do that.
- - -
Masterlist on blog!
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Thanks for requesting anon ❤ I don’t know what’s been going on with the prompt list, the numbers seem to be getting mixed up with what people actually want as prompts, so I went by the prompts you mentioned. This could be because I’m currently editing the prompt list. I’m sorry guys! I’ll get that done soon!
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Request Part 1, Part 2: Hello! If you don't mind,can I request an imagine where Nebula runs into a bit of trouble on a planet and this girl about 15(the reader)hides Nebula for a bit. Nebula questions why she is helping her and later finds out that the reader has a robotic leg and forearm,explaining that the reader empathizes with Nebula.The reader ia doing work where it is considered unclean and Nebula takes the girl in,wanting to get her away from the planet.Part 1!Thank you, please wait for part 2 of this imagine!💜 Part 2 of Nebula!After a year together of Nebula acting like a mother figure to the girl,she leaves the girl with the guardians so she can deal with her original plan, knowing that the reader is safe. Also i forgot to mention this but could you please use prompts48(How could I ever forget about you?),50(Run for it),161(Hey it's cold outside.At least wear a jacket.),30(please don't leave me),and31(I made a promise and I'll be damned if i don't keep it).You can leave out some prompts! Thank you!💜
I no longer have a prompt list, so I wrote the imagine without the prompts, of that’s okay.
Rules for requesting.
Nebula was on the run, as was typical for her roguish life, but this time she wasn’t sure if she would be able to get herself out of this situation. She thought she had cornered herself in an alley when a cold hand grabbed hers and yanked her into a shadow in the side of the alley she’d assumed was solid, but turned out to be a secret tunnel.
“Get off of me,” Nebula snapped, pulling her arm away from the stranger who’d saved her. “Who are you?”
She looked upon you in confusion, a young girl of about fifteen who stared at her with wide, admiring eyes. She noticed the glint of metal in the dim light, seeing that you had a robotic leg and forearm.
“I was working when I saw you running,” you told her. “You’re a hero around here. I had to help you.”
“Thanks,” Nebula said, casting a glance around the room and scrunching her nose at the smell of toxic chemicals. This was no place for a girl like you to work, so she decided to take you under her wing to show her gratitude.
You traveled with Nebula in her search for her sister, helping her out on the ship and giving her something she valued more than anything, a caring person to keep her company. You were new to having prosthetic limbs, and you had made them yourself, which meant they didn’t work right. She taught you how to adjust to life with them and helped you repair and improve them so it was like they were a natural part of your body. She didn’t want you to feel the shame she did for her body, and she hoped helping you would keep that from happening.
When Nebula finally did find Gamora and they resolved their issues, she decided you would be better off with the Guardians. She was off to kill Thanos now, which meant you were no longer safe with her.
“I want to stay with you,” you insisted, but she quieted you with an embrace, the first one she’d ever given you.
“If I didn’t care about you I would let you come with me,” she told you. You knew she meant those words, and you returned her embrace, exchanging the unspoken promise that you would see each other again.
Summary: After being captured by the Sovereign for stealing Anulax batteries, Nebula expected to be handed over to the Nova Corp. and transported to the cell where she’d likely spend the rest of her life (until she could break out, that is). If she’s learned anything in her life, it’s that nothing ever goes as expected.
Chapter 1: Supersonic Rocket Ship
Author’s Note: It’s a tragedy there’s not more for Nebula. Let’s fix that.
Also, not to be that bitch, but this is on Ao3 now. I would very much appreciate kudos/comments, if you’re so inclined!
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Ilana always felt like she was waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for every meal. Waiting to train. Waiting for Ayesha to finish her duties for the day so they could move on to some new task. Waiting for the tailor to come and fit her with some new garment that Ayesha had ordered to be made. Waiting for Ayesha to release her from duty for the evening. No matter the day, no matter the time. Always waiting, but for what, Ilana did not know.
Nothing really ever felt out of place in her life - at least, not in a way she could describe. Sovereign society ran about as smoothly as any machine could. Every individual Sovereign was bred to exact specifications, their purpose literally encoded into their biology, and while there was enough deviation in their genetic codes to keep everyone reticent with their own disposition and beliefs, everyone toed the same strict line. There was hardly any crime, so there were no prisoners to capture and guard, no fights, no nothing.
Ilana was Ayesha’s Chief Guard, and she was beginning to suspect that her presence in the High Priestess’ court was mainly decorative. Really, she wasn’t sure what her job actually entailed short of standing around menacingly and playing Ayesha’s dress-up doll. Ayesha rarely left the planet on any sort of business, preferring to have prospective non-Sovereign allies and guests send diplomats to the Sovereign.
And since there was little to no crime, political prisoners were really the only people taking up jail cells. Anyone outside of the Sovereign who wanted to attack them came directly to them, and that only happened when the odd scavenger came to rip off Anulax batteries. Not that many people tried to steal the batteries. The Sovereign was the only source of Anulax batteries in the galaxy, but they also had one of the most formidable fleets imaginable, which usually drove interested parties away.
It seemed that Ilana’s job was to stand next to Ayesha with her laser spear held high and look polished and pretty for visitors and diplomats. Years of physical and mental training were very much wasted.
Hence, the never-ending feeling of always waiting, waiting, waiting.
“Chief V’Syeth?”
Ilana broke from her reverie and looked out upon the empty court. She’d been instructed to participate in the usual debriefing, which she loathed doing. She stood to the direct left of Ayesha’s throne - her right-hand side was occupied by the Admiral. She’d never liked the Admiral. As pretentious as Sovereign could be, even amongst themselves, his noxious personality was truly special.
“Yes, High Priestess?”
“Were you listening to the Admiral?” Ayesha asked, the slightest edge of annoyance breaking through her mellifluous voice. The High Priestess didn’t turn her head, though she gave Ilana a truly righteous side-eye.
Not really, but Ilana had absorbed the gist of the conversation. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you will send your guards down to the landing bay to retrieve the prisoner immediately.”
Right, the Admiral’s forces had captured a scavenger trying to make off with a set of Anulax batteries. She could imagine the scientists down in the basement rioting over their hard work nearly being stolen. If she’d had any amount of sympathy for the Admiral, she might have felt a little sorry for him that he had to deal with the screaming nerds.
“Yes ma’am, I shall,” Ilana replied automatically. Life was easier when she gave the initial polite answer before asking questions for clarification. “Shall I escort the prisoner myself, or shall I send Mersi and Metai to retrieve them?”
“I prefer to have you at my side, as you well know,” Ayesha replied curtly. “Your personal intervention will not be necessary as long as the prisoner is compliant. Mersi and Metai will suffice.”
“Duly noted, High Priestess. I’ll send them now.”
Ilana stepped off to the side away from Ayesha and the Admiral. The implant in her hand functioned as a pager when she needed it, as well as really anything else. All the guards had one. She waved her hand and instructed the girls to escort the prisoner to the holding cells.
Perhaps, Ilana surmised, she’d go have a look for herself later once the hustle and bustle had calmed down. Political prisoners were a hot topic, and she felt obligated to see what the fuss was about this time. Not to mention she was curious as to why this prisoner wanted the batteries badly enough to attack the Sovereign head-on, alone. Anulax batteries were serious business since they could power an entire hemisphere of a planet, but at the end of the day, they were just batteries.
Ilana returned to her place next to Ayesha and tried to focus on the Admiral’s debrief of the encounter. Intruder alert, alarms went off, serious injuries, blah, blah, blah. The usual.
“We’ve also received a hail to capture the girl alive, per the Nova Corp.,” the Admiral stated, brandishing his stylus at the tablet in his hand. Presumably, the tablet contained the reports and transcript of the hail from the Nova Corps. “They’ve requested that we hold her until they’ve rebuilt their fleet and can afford to send a transport ship to retrieve her.”
Ilana started. “Her?”
The Admiral rolled his eyes. “Yes, Chief. Her.”
Female political prisoners were unheard of – usually because they were too smart to get caught.
“Why do the Nova Corp. want her?” Ayesha asked, dancing right over Ilana’s question. Whatever pulled Ilana out of her trance had triggered an alarm in Ayesha’s head, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. “Is this something we could use?”
“Allegedly, she’s a daughter of Thanos,” the Admiral replied. He swiped the screen of his tablet, poking at it viciously. “And according to these reports, she seems to be telling the truth. The Nova Corp. sent a mugshot with the hail.”
Ayesha hummed. “So, that would mean there’s likely a price on her head?”
“I took the initiative to check. It’s a substantial reward, High Priestess,” the Admiral confirmed. “The Nova Corp. even have one on her”
“Have they offered us a price?”
“No, High Priestess. They have only ordered us to house her until they can collect her.”
“Then we will keep her for now, until she is claimed or a bounty hunter comes through. We’ll wait for someone to give us a price, once the word gets out that we have her,” Ayesha replied. She waved the tablet away, and the Admiral stepped back. “Though, I suppose she could be used as a bargaining chip if the need arises.”
“We will ensure round-the-clock surveillance,” the Admiral said. He stepped back away from Ayesha’s throne and stood at the head of his entourage of Navy soldiers. “Until the Nova Corp. arrives, or a better offer presents itself.”
Ayesha crooked her finger at Ilana, who’d actually been listening. “Chief V’Syeth?”
“Ma’am?”
“I am entrusting you with guarding her during the night shift. You will rest upon your relief of duty to me and proceed directly to the holding chambers upon rotation.”
“Noted, ma’am. I will report tonight.”
Ayesha nodded. “We have much to discuss between the two of us, Chief. Admiral, you will take your leave. Handmaidens, you are all dismissed for the night.”
Once the crowd of Sovereign had taken their leave, each bowing as they retreated, Ayesha beckoned Ilana forward. Ilana took a knee in front of the High Priestess, leaning on her spear like a staff. It wouldn’t do to fall out of form in front of the High Priestess, even out of the public eye. Ayesha expected perfection - always had - and Ilana had been genetically engineered to fulfill that expectation – despite her increasingly diminishing attention span.
“Rise,” Ayesha ordered. “Come forward, Ilana.”
Ayesha took Ilana’s chin and tilted her face up. It was a gentle gesture - exceedingly rare coming from the High Priestess. She’d always had a soft spot for Ilana, ever since the girl was a child. She’d watched her grow from a toddler to the woman who became her Chief - genetically bioengineered to be the strongest, the fastest, logical and strategic, and perfectly Sovereign.
And yet, Ayesha had always known that something inside of Ilana was… amiss. She was nothing short of biological perfection as all Sovereign were, but Ayesha had known since Ilana was a child that the Sovereign would not make this girl happy. It was simply in her nature - she would always be waiting for something. Ayesha could not say what, but as soon as she’d seen the prisoner on her surveillance screens, that something seemed closer to falling into place. Ayesha could simply sense these things, innate oddities in a creature’s biology. It was a strange feeling, but one she’d had before
Ayesha, ever the scientist at heart, wanted to test this something.
"You have always been my favorite, Ilana," Ayesha hummed, stroking the girl's cheek. She dropped her hand. "I dislike seeing you so melancholy, and you have been distracted lately. Can I do something to help you deal with whatever you're feeling?"
"I did not realize that I've been distracted, High Priestess. Or melancholy, for that matter."
Ayesha hummed in a gentle expression of her disbelief. "I know when you're lying."
Ilana grimaced. It was worth a try.
"I just… still feel like I'm waiting for something," Ilana replied. She took a seat in front of Ayesha’s throne, feeling suddenly like a child again. “It used to fade, but it won’t go away now.”
"What do you think you're waiting for?"
"If I knew that, I'd go get it. You know that."
"Indeed," Ayesha replied, pursing her lips. She’d personally helped train this girl in the hopes that whatever oddity, whatever weirdness would twist her around, would stamp itself out before it ever got to this point. Every Sovereign was made to exact, perfect specifications – but sometimes, the science of these things was just a little too exact. Best not to let her dwell on it.
“Maybe it’s the lack of challenge,” Ilana said. “I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, after all.”
Ayesha had to agree. "I’ve thought of that, and I hope that’s all it is. I've given you a heavy responsibility today. A daughter of Thanos… could give you trouble. But perhaps the challenge will give you perspective on what it is you require."
"Perhaps it's just a challenge that I require, not so much perspective."
"I disagree, but nevertheless, I expect that you will receive both challenge and perspective from your assignment.” Ayesha waved her hand. “You are dismissed. Rest - you have a long night ahead of you."
Ilana bowed, then turned and walked out of the back entrance of Ayesha's throne room. Her sleeping quarters were only a few doors down - a necessity bred from duty. The only room closer to the throne room than hers was Ayesha's favorite handmaid’s quarters, and that was only because Ayesha hated waiting longer than necessary when she rang.
She had a few hours before she was set to report for her first shift. Her first order of business was to wash up after a long day in full regal armor. Once she'd cleaned up, she still had plenty of time left on her break. It was just enough time to nap and make dinner while she scrolled through Mersi and Metai's report from the transfer.
The transfer to the holding cells had gone smoothly (as if it wouldn't with the prisoner in laser handcuffs). As for the woman, she was surly and mean, but she hadn't spoken more than to order them to stop touching her. No begging, no bargaining - as if she knew her fate or was planning an escape. The latter most likely, Ilana surmised. A daughter of Thanos would be nearly impossible to keep imprisoned in a normal holding cell. But she was in Sovereign territory, and their holding cells were simply inescapable.
Once she'd finished with the report, she donned her functional armor, grabbed her laser spear, and set off for the holding cells.
Like everything else on the damn planet, the holding cells were plated with gilded gold. And, like everything else in the Sovereign world, the halls she strolled down were gold. Smooth, seamless gold. The floors were gold. Her armor was gold. Her fucking spear was gold. Everything gold. It wouldn't kill the designers to put a little black, or silver, or anything but gold somewhere.
Metai, Ilana’s second-in-command, met her at holding and intake to debrief her on the current state of the prisoner. Just over Metai’s shoulder, Ilana could see Mersi, Ilana’s other second, still standing guard. The pair were currently the only set of living Sovereign twins; they had not been genetically designed as twins, but rather the fertilized cell had spontaneously split and copied the chromosomes to result in two engineered guards.
Metai inclined her head in the customary almost-bow performed by subordinates of the High Priestess’s Guard. “You took long enough getting here.”
“High Priestess ordered me to rest before my shift,” Ilana sniffed. The twins had emerged from an adjacent birthing pod to hers and been trained right alongside her for their entire lives. She liked Metai and Mersi just fine, but both twins had a habit of addressing her with unnecessary familiarity while on the job. It was fine outside of work, but she had to remind them of their places on the job. “I slept. I ate. I’m here. Now debrief me.”
“Yes, Chief,” Metai replied. She caught herself before she rolled her eyes, though the intention was not lost on Ilana. “The prisoner has been silent so far. She will not respond to questions. She will not acknowledge us when we speak.”
“Maybe you’re not asking her the right questions.”
Metai sighed. “You’re more than welcome to try questioning her yourself, Chief. If you get an answer out of her, I would love to know.”
“I’ll give it a shot,” Ilana said, shrugging. She motioned towards the door. “I’ll take it from here. You and Mersi are dismissed.”
Ilana walked in past the security door and took Mersi’s place in front of the cell. She would be the only guard for the rest of the night.
----- ----- -----
An hour passed in relative silence. The only sounds in the muted gold room were Ilana’s slow, collected breathing and Nebula’s foot tapping. The sounds echoed in the hollow metal room, cavernous and nearly deafening considering the monotony. (It really wouldn’t kill the designers to put up some drapes or a tapestry or something, anything, to cancel out the reverb.)
Finally, the silence was broken by a new sound - the sound of a stomach growling. Ilana looked back over her shoulder at the woman in the cell. The woman looked right back up at her, eyes hard and empty, and averted her gaze by looking back down at the floor. She seemed defiant still, despite her circumstances. Perhaps she was planning on trying to escape. It was fine if she was - the cell was nigh inescapable and Ilana could certainly see to it that she was confined.
Ilana was almost sick to her stomach watching this woman sit in confinement. She wasn’t a fan of prisons, but it was likely the empathy she felt could be attributed to having never actually taken a guard shift. It wasn’t her job, and never had been, to stand guard over prisoners - only the High Priestess.
Still, there was something about the woman that interested her. Something that made her heart twist. It could have been her blue-and-purple skin contrasting against the gold of the holding cell. It could have been her eyes, staring off into space, searching for a breach in the cell, sizing Ilana up in case she had to fight. She didn’t know what it was drawing her to this woman – someone who would see her dead in order to escape to freedom – but it was intense.
The woman’s stomach growled again, louder, and she twitched as if trying to force her stomach to quiet itself.
Ilana turned. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”
The woman didn’t respond. She merely glanced up at Ilana and looked back down at her feet. Her stomach growled again, but she gritted her teeth and didn’t look up.
“Can I get you anything in particular?” Ilana prodded, unused to someone remaining unresponsive in her presence.
Nothing, once again.
“Are you going to ignore me?” Ilana huffed. The woman looked up at her, then looked back down at her feet again. “Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll just bring you something that I like.
“I’m fine,” the woman snapped, finally acknowledging her. Her growling stomach, once again, betrayed her.
Ilana quirked a golden eyebrow and held her communicator up to her mouth. “Metai, please bring two food trays up to the cell block. I’m hungry, and it’s not polite to eat alone.”
“Be there in twenty minutes, Chief.”
“Make it fifteen, please,” Ilana replied. She lowered her hand down to her side and resumed her guard stance.
Ilana took both trays of food from Metai when the soldier finally walked in the door (thirty minutes late, probably on purpose). She placed one tray in the grate between the bars and slid it through for Nebula to grab. Nebula took the tray without a word.
Ilana sat down on the holding cell floor and dug into her own tray of food. She wasn’t hungry exactly - she’d eat enough to make it look like she was and give the rest to the grumpy prisoner because she knew the kitchens would probably short her on food. After she finished, she wordlessly pushed the rest of her tray through the grate. She didn’t check behind her to see if Nebula would take the rest of the food, but she had a feeling that she would.
Ilana rested back against the holding cell wall. “What’s your name?”
Again, silence.
Ilana rolled her eyes. “Give up the stoic act, please. You just answered me.”
“Nebula.”
“Your name is Nebula?”
“Yes.”
“You have a beautiful name,” Ilana replied. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
They remained silent for the rest of the night.
----- ----- -----
Ayesha had made short work out of putting out feelers for a bounty on the prisoner. She knew of several groups who would be only too happy to take the girl off their hands. Now, she just had to wait until an offer presented itself. That, or she would have to wait until the Nova Corp. could retrieve her.
With her job for the day done, Ayesha had a chance to finally relax and ready herself for bed. She chose to partake in her usual evening activity, which was basically spying on people through all the cameras surveilling the palace. Her main concern was her experiment - why did she feel so strangely about this prisoner, and why did it feel like something had clicked into place?
She instructed the monitor to pan to the holding cells, down to where Ilana and the prisoner were located. She found exactly what she expected to find - Ilana standing guard, the prisoner sitting on the floor in the corner of her cell. What she did not expect was the overwhelming feeling of oneness she caught from staring at the screen.
There was no physical synergy on the screen - just a prisoner and a guard, standing on opposite sides of a door. Two beings as separate as could be. She did not know why, but as Ayesha watched, it seemed evident to her that this prisoner was what Ilana had always been waiting, waiting, waiting for. She could feel an influence far different from hers orchestrating this feeling. Ayesha could see it because she was different. She was the High Priestess, and she’d been created to know. She suspected she would soon find out why.
As she watched, Metai brought two food trays. One, Ilana passed through the grate in the holding cell door. The other, she kept for herself. She picked at it for a few minutes, then handed the rest of her tray off through the grate to the prisoner.
Ayesha would concede that this was a simple enough transaction between guard and ward. It was just the unfailing sensation in the back of her mind that something was off.
And then Ilana asked for the prisoner’s name and said no more.
Ayesha switched the screens to something that didn’t make her so twitchy. There was nothing she could do until something actually happened if it ever did. But she would be on the lookout for it.
Summary: After being captured by the Sovereign for stealing Anulax batteries, Nebula expected to be handed over to the Nova Corp. and transported to the cell where she’d likely spend the rest of her life (until she could break out, that is). If she’s learned anything in her life, it’s that nothing ever goes as expected.
Chapter 2: Gold Dust Woman
Author’s Note: It’s a tragedy there’s not more for Nebula. Let’s fix that.
Also, not to be that bitch, but this is on Ao3 now. I would very much appreciate kudos/comments, if you’re so inclined!
Part 1
-----
Nebula had been stuck in the Sovereign prison for nearly a month - a month of being constantly hounded and monitored by these unnecessarily shiny people, of barely moving save to walk from her bed to the bathroom, of being mostly alone with her thoughts. It wasn't the worst prison she could have been stuck in by far (it was relatively cushy compared to Kree prisons or even the Nova Corps. facilities). Nevertheless, prison is prison and confinement is confinement. And Nebula was fucking tired of being stuck in there.
She could have broken out, but the only viable exit was through the holding cell door. She'd observed as much of the facility as she could from her cell and the guarded walks to the showers. The vents were too small to squeeze through, and she'd been warned an outright attempt to break down the wall would be met with an electric shock that could fry her wiring. Preventative measures, she'd been told, constructed specifically for potential prisoners of her caliber.
Nebula was sure she could take any of the guards without issue if she broke directly through the holding door, although it would be messy and nearly impossible to find a way off the planet if she tried. The guards who captured her put a hood over her eyes when they offloaded her from the ship, so she couldn't be sure where she was in relation to the docking bay. She didn't much care for the idea of stumbling blindly through enemy territory, fighting off guards and fumbling around for a key she would never find. She could at least take comfort in knowing they wouldn't be able to overcome her physically, one-on-one (the tasers were a different story - that's how they captured her in the first place).
Well, she could take most of the guards anyway, with the exception of the woman who guarded her at night. That one seemed more capable than the rest; she was calm and collected, corded with lithe muscle, with an attitude that screamed she was born to be in charge. Simply a different caliber than the rest. Although, her existence could mean there were more guards of her caliber, but Nebula sincerely doubted it. Only the most capable were put in charge in places like the Sovereign, and they bred their citizens to precise biological specifications. It was unlikely she'd face a tougher opponent.
Chief V'Syeth. Ilana. Kindness was unheard of where prison guards were concerned, but she appeared to break that mold. She actually spoke to Nebula, unlike the other guards who stuck up their noses at practically everything. She made a point to bring Nebula food, to order the subservient guards to bring her a change of clothes, to order them transport her to the washroom. She tried to lead by example, it seemed, in treating Nebula humanely. Nebula could begrudgingly appreciate her efforts; any semblance of kindness in situations like hers was unheard of. Eventually, Nebula had started to respond to her when she spoke.
For most of her life, Nebula had considered kindness a weakness. This woman, the Chief, was obviously not weak. Her soldiers gave her sass, but nevertheless obeyed her without question. Not once had Nebula seen a guard shirk their duty or take a shortcut, even when she wasn't around. She'd noticed that over the course of the month, the guards had been steadfastly firm but noticeably more hospitable in the wake of the Chief's continued politeness. By setting the example, they’d all followed along.
It could have been almost respectable, if Nebula wasn’t being jailed.
If the Nova Corps. would just come get her already, she could break free. She had a plan already in place. She knew their ships and movements well enough to make a hasty escape - she could probably commandeer a transport pod if she time it right.
“Planning your escape again, Nebula?”
Ilana. She said it so smoothly, like she was only joking. What Nebula could see of her from this angle (behind) would indicate that was the case. She didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.
“Me, too.”
And there it was: the quiet words. Ilana said them out loud only to herself, but Nebula got the feeling they were meant for her to hear as well. The Chief had been doing this more and more often as of late, and it seemed the longer Nebula was confined, the twitchier the Chief got. Was she waiting for Nebula to make an escape attempt? Was she just looking for a challenge?
Something told her no.
“You say that,” Nebula said. She hardly recognized the rasp of her own voice as it reverberated off the cell walls. “Seems pretty cushy here to me.”
“You’re correct. It is.”
“Then why escape?”
Ilana looked over her shoulder, hardly more than a fleeting glance. She had an elegant profile, glittering and gold. “I am Chief Guard to Her Majesty, High Priestess Ayesha. I was bred to fight, to lead, to win. Yet I suspect I am purely decorative.”
“Not bad for decoration.”
Nebula smirked, looking down at her shoes when the Chief turned to look at her again. Why not have a little fun? She wouldn’t be getting out of here anytime soon, not at this rate. The Nova Corps. was still working on rebuilding its fleet, so there was no chance of grabbing a ship. Apparently, Gamora hadn’t found her yet either. And there was definitely no way out of this cell, short of fighting her way out of the Sovereign compound. She’d checked for every single weakness on her transports and found none.
The Chief, for all her goodwill, would absolutely know she couldn’t make a break for it. For all her leniency, there was no way out of this compound without significant loss to everyone - it was a level of brazen Nebula had rarely seen in places like this, especially where she was concerned.
Nebula was a little impressed, actually.
The Chief snorted. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Nebula.”
Wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, right? Nebula could admit she was enjoying it, too.
“Worth a try.”
“Behave,” Ilana said, turning back to her usual stance.
As far as jailers went, the Chief wasn’t bad company. She was quiet most of the time, but she would talk if she got bored. Nebula didn’t answer most of the time - the Chief wasn’t talking for conversation. In fact, Nebula had no desire to answer, save for the most basic questions. And, yes, to flirt and needle at her just a bit.
And though Nebula would never allow herself to admit it, the Chief carried an intensity, an air, that drew Nebula to her like a particularly dangerous flame. What an unfortunate place to be caught: between the need to escape and the desire to take the Chief with her. Perhaps she’d do both, when the time came.
-----
Ilana left her shift that morning long after Nebula had drifted off to sleep. She had just enough time to bathe and rest and dress for her day with Ayesha.
The longer she remained as Nebula's guard, the more annoyed she became with her usual position. At least standing guard over Nebula carried the underlying threat that she might have to actually contain the girl if she tried to break out. Standing next to Ayesha meant she had to listen to diplomats argue or reports from other guards or Ayesha's orders. She liked the possibility of excitement that came with playing guard.
And she could admit she liked Nebula.
Nebula didn't speak often and rarely answered her questions, but Ilana had gotten her to hold a conversation a handful of times. Her questions started as an attempt to get some answers out of her, but Nebula knew what she was doing. She kept quiet the first couple of weeks, but finally, finally, she admitted why she'd stolen the batteries - and asked Ilana not to pass it along.
Ilana hadn't said a word. Ayesha would already know anyway.
She slogged through her day much the same as always: standing at attention, spear held high, hanging off of Ayesha’s hip, and giving so very few shits about the whole ordeal. She listened to the Admiral give his usual report, an update from the Nova Corps. (It still didn’t have enough ships to spare to come get Nebula.) The Architect was next, then the Lead Scientist, all the way down the line of hierarchy through the usual rounds. And then, at the very last minute, her day got much more interesting.
The General stepped forward to make his report. Usually, his report was just like everyone else’s: uninteresting and unrelated to her. Today, though, he had something to say.
“Early this morning, a creature emerged from the universal tear we’ve been monitoring near the Anulax battery factory. It appears to feed on them.”
Ayesha sighed. She, too, was tired of listening to the reports. “And what have you done to deal with this creature?”
The General poked his tablet screen and cast a hologram of the creature. “Of course, this isn’t something we’d have our own people deal with, and the Nova Corps. is still rebuilding. We contacted a team of bounty hunters to deal with the creature. They should be arriving shortly.”
“Are they trustworthy?”
The General swiped to show a hologram of the team. “They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy.”
“And how many units have they requested for payment?”
“No units,” The General replied. He swiped his tablet again, this time to a hologram of Nebula. “They’ve requested the prisoner as payment.”
Until then, Ilana had been half-listening. Of course, she needed to know if a threat might affect Ayesha in some way (it never did), so she listened on principle. But now, the General had her full attention. Like most things, she suspected that Ayesha knew she was paying attention now.
“For what purpose?” Ayesha asked, looking over her shoulder at Ilana.
“They say they want to personally deliver her to the Nova Corps.”
Ayesha continued to side-eye Ilana. Ilana shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “Am I to understand that a daughter of Thanos is part of this group?”
“Yes, that would be Gamora,” the General replied.
Ayesha tilted her head. “So, that would make them sisters. I see now. Then we shall turn her over to the Guardians of the Galaxy upon disposal of the beast,” She waved her hand. “You’re all dismissed.”
The General, who clearly was not finished with his report, stowed his tablet away and sulked off. The rest of the Sovereign delivering reports fell in behind him.
“Handmaidens and guards, too.”
Ilana was well-aware that she was not included in the dismissal and continued to hold her position at Ayesha’s shoulder. One by one, the guards and handmaidens filtered out of the room. When they were finally gone, Ilana took a knee in front of Ayesha, spear held high.
“Your prisoner wants to kill the Mad Titan.”
Ilana looked up at her. “I assume you’ve been watching the cell feed then, High Priestess?”
“Of course,” Ayesha scoffed. “Did you really think I would leave that girl in your hands alone?”
Not really. Ayesha loved her video feed.
“No, High Priestess.”
“There’s something different about that girl, just like there’s something different about you,” Ayesha said. “When I saw the two of you together on the cell feed, something clicked, so I decided to do a little experiment and see why.”
Ayesha stood up and motioned for Ilana to rise and follow her. She led Ilana through the back room to her personal chambers. One of the handmaids had left a pot of tea on her dining table, along with multiple mugs. She instructed Ilana to sit, poured two cups of tea, and sat across from her.
Ayesha sipped her tea thoughtfully. “You’ve been even more restless since she’s been here. I anticipated a change in you, but not to this magnitude.
“I don’t understand what you mean by change.”
“Don’t you?”
Ilana had a sneaking suspicion that Ayesha was suggesting she’d taken an interest beyond something purely professional or academic.
“No, I don’t,” Ilana snapped. She hadn’t touched a drop of her tea yet. “I’ve done my job as ordered, as I’ve always done. I’ve followed protocols by questioning her when I have the chance. I have done the utmost to set the standard of treatment, and so far, everyone has complied.”
To the High Priestess’ credit, Ayesha glossed over Ilana’s tone with the utmost poise. The Sovereign don’t take impudence lightly, least of all Ayesha. Anyone else, she’d have had them thrown in the cells for treason.
“I was not suggesting anything unprofessional, yet you took it as such. I wonder why?”
Ilana huffed. “I would never - not with someone in my care -”
“I know that,” Ayesha replied. “I watched the feeds. But you can’t deny you noticed the connection, too.”
“Well, if anyone can see the connection, it’s you,” Ilana said. She gingerly took a sip of the scalding tea. Ayesha could assess a person’s biological makeup just by looking at them – she’d been designed that way. “I’m assuming biology has a part to play here? If you say destiny, I’ll throw up.”
“I have often wondered if our designs are flawed - if there is a better way to breed us Sovereign.” Ayesha set her teacup on its saucer. “I designed you personally, to the utmost specifications. Every single part of you is exactly what I wanted you to be, but even I could never have anticipated what the combination of you would become.”
“Are you saying I’m defective, High Priestess?” Ilana mostly meant it as a joke, but only mostly.
“On the contrary - you’ve become more than I could have dreamed. Unfortunately, that means that the tweaks I made spark a determination and desire in you that will never be fulfilled here.”
“So, I’m always going to feel like this?”
“You very well may, depending on your next choice.”
“Cryptic, as always. What choice?”
“I have always had a soft spot for you, as you very well know,” Ayesha said. Her patience way thin and only growing thinner every minute Ilana took that tone with her. “Perhaps if I had tried harder, I could have stamped out that disobedient streak in you.”
Ilana chose to ignore the High Priestess’ reply. “What does Nebula have to do with any of it?”
“You will have to decide,” Ayesha replied. “I am sending you as her personal guard to ensure she makes it to the Nova Corps. Once you leave our airspace, it seems to me that you have two choices. Option one: you deliver the girl and return to your place here. Option two: you don’t.”
“I don’t deliver the girl? Or I don’t return?”
“Your choices are yours alone.”
“There are no Sovereign defectors.”
“No, there are not.”
Ilana pushed her teacup away and sat back against the chair cushion. “I would be the first. I’d never be able to come back.”
“No.”
“Why would I give up my life for a woman I barely know?”
“I truly don’t know. But the choice is yours.”
-----
An hour of standing guard over Nebula only served to make Ilana ever more antsy. Ilana kept glancing over her shoulder, despite her best attempts to maintain rapt focus on the wall in front of her. She was sure Nebula had caught her doing it. The woman probably thought she had lost her damn mind.
Here was Ilana’s chance to stop waiting around for something to happen, to chase her own fate rather than follow a future that had already been decided for her. She could be part of something bigger, for better or worse, than standing guard over a woman with dangerously few enemies – than being a decorative accessory to the High Priestess.
Granted, Ayesha had basically raised her (well, the Teachers raised her, but Ayesha orchestrated her upbringing more often than not). She’d be deserting her home, the parent-figure who designed her and nurtured her, all of her friends and subordinates. All for what? The fleeting chance to lead a life different than the one she had – one that might very well lead nowhere – when the life she had was soft and decorative and easy. Sovereign had a long, long lifespan, and she’d have to build a life elsewhere from the ground up.
All for a woman she barely knew, who’d barely said a word to her, who couldn’t possibly trust her as far as she could throw her (though Ilana suspected Nebula could probably throw her pretty far). Yet, the more she thought about it, the easier it was to pick Nebula and this unknown life over the life she had. She could admit that Nebula’s sheer presence weighed heavily in her decision – however bad the idea might be.
Maybe she had lost her mind. She blamed biology.
After an hour of looking over her shoulder, sighing and staring and glancing, finally, Ilana had enough.
She turned to Nebula and sank down on her knees so that she was level with her charge’s sitting form. “You wanna kill Thanos?”
“Yes.” Nebula cocked her head, raising a non-existent eyebrow. “Why? Do you want to help?”
“Yes.”
“I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
Nebula was shocked by her answer, as if she expected a sermon rather than a serious response. “Why do you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”
“Something different,” Ilana replied.
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“I meant exactly what I said,” Ilana snapped. “That doesn’t matter right now. Look, Ayesha contracted with bounty hunters and you’re the payment. I think you know who’s coming for you.”
“Gamora.”
“You got it,” Ilana replied. “You need help killing the Mad Titan. I was born to fight. I don’t want to die here on this planet never having done anything than what Ayesha programmed me to do. I’m not enough to kill him, but I’m a good start.” Ilana paused, as if considering her next words carefully. “And, as a matter of biology and something bigger than us all, my fate is now inextricably intertwined with yours, whatever either of us decide to do in life.”
Nebula couldn’t deny she’d felt that connection, too. She didn’t believe in fate or any of that ooey-gooey soulmates nonsense, but she’d felt something deeper between them than their mere acquaintanceship would otherwise suggest.
“So, you want to go with me?”
“Yes.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
Ilana laughed. “A trap? You’re already trapped.”
“You know I’m going to break out as soon as I have the chance.”
“Yes. And I’m offering to help you. Just give me the chance to have a higher purpose than being Ayesha’s court decoration.”
“Fine.”
Ilana sighed, relief washing over her. “Then let’s figure out how we’re going to get you somewhere safe once we’re out of here.”
“Me? You’re about to defect from the Sovereign. They’ll send the whole fleet after you.”
“Probably,” Ilana conceded, “but that’s no worse than being tracked down by your sister.”
