For better or worse, I do not own any Marvel franchise

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Many thanks to my wonderful Betas, Bobbie23, Jesuslovesmarina, and MasterQwertster, who write some pretty cool stories. Go read them!

The fantastic cover image is courtesy of rickyryan. Just perfect!

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Guest Review answers :-D

PJ

Yeah sorry, took a lot longer than I expected to make progress with this!

Really appreciate hearing that my character development is going well! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your Review and Support! :-D

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Avengers: The (Alien) Sun's Going Down

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Chapter 5: What Do You See?

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New characters introduced here can be found on the regular Marvel wiki.

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Previously: As Bruce and Natasha explore Sakaar with their prisoner, Scrapper 142, they become increasingly aware of the dangerous nature of the dictatorial rule of the Grandmaster. All they want to do is just get home . . .

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Sakaar

The city of Sakaar

Several hours had passed for the Avengers, stranded upon the alien world of Sakaar, while their prisoner/tour guide showed them around the alien city.

"It's starting to get dark," noted Black Widow. The locals were starting clear the street at a brisk pace. "And I bet there's a curfew."

There was not, if also no need to tell them, figured Scrapper 142. "We'll need a place to stay. Mine's available."

Neither Avenger even pretended to entertain that offer. They were well aware that her present co-operation, or lack of violence to be more accurate, was largely based upon the Obedience Disc latched into her neck. Going back to her home, where she would be most secure, was a superbly bad idea.

We can't trust her, knew the master assassin. Except we still need her for now, and she knows it. Especially since we want to stay away from law enforcement. Need someplace safe.

Still, that was a pretty crude attempt from her. Discretely Black Widow gave the alien an evaluative look. She's not looking too good. Definitely uncomfortable. Lingering internal injuries she's been hiding that are now catching up? Her bruises healed pretty quickly, yet that may just be easier for her healing factor. Or is her alcohol addiction simply that bad?

While Black Widow was distracted with the issue of their coerced guide, Natasha Romanoff's boyfriend had stayed focused on the bigger picture.

"So we have to disappear into the slums," sighed Bruce. "The real ones, not the ones at the edge of the city."

"You think no one's tried that?" queried Scrapper 142. "Everyone at one point or another wants to escape from sight like that."

"You'd be surprised," he shrugged. "There's always places to go if you don't want to be found, where the authorities don't go because of how much they're hated. The trick of course is surviving your new neighbours. In my experience though, it tends to vary in terms of how much danger you're in. The people there can even be surprisingly friendly, helping each other out."

Alternatively, he did not add, they could be rather unwelcoming of strangers who would be fresh competition for scarce resources. He had a good feeling the two ladies were well aware of this.

"So you've got lots of experience co-existing with desperate aliens?" she sarcastically asked.

Frosty as the coldest regions of Siberia, Black Widow laid down the law. "It doesn't matter. For tonight we need to be somewhere where the authorities won't find us. So that's where we're going. I presume that this place is built on top of another layer of garbage? The lower we go, underneath the sun and the benevolence of the Grandmaster, the worse it gets."

Visibly reluctant, the alien nodded and conceded the point.

"Alright. Let's get going."

-(Alien) Sun-

Sakaar

Sakaar City

Underbelly

More hours passed, and night had definitely fallen.

With a huff, Scrapper 142 slammed the alien to the ground, rewarded by the sickening crunch of bone.

Deftly she snagged the flask from his pocket and chugged back whatever few drops were in it, before casually throwing and shattering the empty bottle against a wall. "Having fun?" she sarcastically growled through her yellow and red make-up.

"Oh, loads," Black Widow tightly grinned. She had put her sunglasses away, and her cap was tucked into her belt. It was so dark down here that not only did they no longer need to obscure their faces, but their disguises were also a hindrance to their sight.

They were now in the Underground.

Sub-levels below the capital city of Sakaar, their surroundings would have resembled underground caves, if not for all the buildings. Indeed, they looked just like the streets above, aside from the ceiling. The only light came from scattered fires in scavenged metal containers, while dirt and grime were the prevailing themes. I wasn't even serious about the Grandmaster building the new city atop the old, she glumly thought. Nonetheless, it must have been precisely what he had done. After all, there was a limit to how much trash could be used up at a time, and the wormholes appeared to pile it up endlessly, with no means of disposing the pre-existing stuff. Eventually the growing mass outside would become dangerously high (or blot out his view of the landscape), so either it had to be removed by some means they had not seen yet, or the city itself was raised up accordingly. This world must be like an onion, with layers upon layers. Who knows what the center's like!

Navigating through the deeper slums of Sakaar was hazardous at night (or any time probably), given how many people still kept attacking them. While Bruce was capable of putting up a decent fight (she had seen to that), they dared not risk him getting hurt. For herself, she needed to keep an eye on Scrapper 142 (and a thumb on the switch for the Obedience Disc), as well as watch their backs at the same time. Ergo, it was left to the super-powerful alien to handle anyone too dumb to get the message to give them a wide berth. Not that the violence bothered the other woman. She quite enjoyed doling out thorough beatings, despite them being at Natasha's command and benefit.

Everyone else in the slums was staying hidden, even if Black Widow could still hear them. Scuffling sounds, raspy breaths, the odd whimper.

"This place isn't healthy," warned Bruce, who like the two ladies was also now bareheaded. "Not just all the trash; I bet a lot of harmful byproducts from engines and such will be leaking down here. I saw some of that in Pakistan, India, and other places. We should be okay for a night or two, but no longer."

She nodded without surprise. Another reason that authorities stayed away from places like this was because it was so unhealthy. Most of those who did live here (and only because they don't have much of a choice) were poisoned by the environment. She could only hope that alien junk was not more toxic than Bruce assumed.

As exotic and enchanting as this part of the planet was though, the fact remained they still needed somewhere to sleep. Of course, they would also have to keep watch, against both their new neighbours, and Scrapper 142. So she would pull sentry duty for eight hours, and then Bruce could do it afterwards for three, while she caught up on some of her rest.

Truthfully, the KGB had trained her to go at peak performance for a week straight without sleep. However, she had already gone a few days like that dealing with Ultron, and had taken her share of bumps, bruises, and scrapes along the way. More importantly, 'peak performance' did not include having the necessary imagination and initiative (hardly valued by her trainers and handlers) to handle this surreal crisis, nor to maintain basic social skills. Living on adrenaline for 168 hours straight ran the risk of her shooting someone for speaking too loudly. Or quietly.

Not to mention it was overall best to rest when she could, as she had no idea when she would have the chance again.

On the other hand, Bruce needed sleep more than she did. After all, not only did he lack the same conditioning as her, he remained too tense here whenever he was insufficiently distracted. They had been going nearly non-stop ever since the party where Ultron revealed himself, and whatever rest they had gotten had been fitful at best. Plus, they really had been surviving on adrenaline ever since arriving on Sakaar. Sleep would help keep Hulk from coming out and doing anything they might all later regret.

While she had not talked about this with Bruce, she was confident they could come to some sort of shift arrangement, where he got twice as much rest. As kind-hearted as he was, he remained very pragmatic in terms of Hulk.

They were going through another intersection before Scrapper 142 suddenly halted, head tilted back as her nostrils flared, with uncharacteristic concern on her expression. Suddenly she spat out a word that, while Black Widow did not catch it, was followed by a sudden total silence from the people hidden around them, and the tension in air thickened. Fear and the threat of violence permeated the air.

"This way," growled Scrapper 142, stalking down one particular street, heedless of the Obedience Disk stuck to her throat.

"Uhm, why?" called out Bruce, right behind her, while Natasha held the rear, eyes darting back and forth. From the way Bruce's shoulders tightened, she knew he noticed how there did not seem to be anyone living down here, despite the increase in graffiti. Many of which seemed to depict some sort of beast dying.

"I'm not staying down here with something like that prowling around!" hissed Scrapper 142, just loud enough to be heard. "We can take its nest to stay in if you want. Bor! What were these idiots thinking not warning anybody!?"

The trio reached the end of the alleyway, with Scrapper 142 not even pausing as she wrenched the door off its hinges and barreled in—

—As the ground beneath her feet promptly collapsed underneath her. Lightning reflexes shot out her hands to grab the doorframe to keep herself from falling through, only for a flash of light to hit her square in the chest. Yelping in pain, Scrapper 142 threw herself back, trailing smoke from the shoulder.

From the corner of her eye, Black Widow noted what seemed like laser fire did not seem to have seriously injured her. Probably more surprise than actual pain. Still in motion, she threw herself to the side of the doorway out of the line of fire, with Bruce doing the same to her right.

"Hold!" she called out. "We'll take our friend and go!" There was no need to fight with people armed with their own advanced weaponry. Even if it was not enough to properly burn Scrapper 142 –unlike what the Grandmaster's weapons were implied to be capable of— she was willing to bet it could kill a Human and trigger a Code: Green.

Instinct made her leap away, just as something large and multi-limbed pounced down where she had been before. Like a nightmare it rose up on rear legs. Bright red eyes blazed over exposed, sharp fangs longer than her fingers. An insectoid body vaguely reminiscent of a hornet wearing armour, with multiple sharp legs, except the forelimbs looked like some cross between an arm and a tentacle. Two massive stingers were on the back of the long, prehensile exoskeleton.

Sporting a bloodthirsty grin, Scrapper 142 bounced back up. "Brood! So one of you has been hiding down here the whole time, eh? Guess we've got a whole swarm to kill."

"Not quite," rasped the bug from between its massive fangs.

With incredible speed Scrapper 142 dashed forward with a fist drawn back, only to be tripped as a forelimb cracked like a whip to trip her. Its fangs flashed down, only for the woman to grab its jaws, keeping them from closing, and kick her foe back into the wall of a house. It scrambled to its feet, pausing for a moment as if winded.

Dressed in rags, a humanoid figure leapt out from the shadows of the house, sporting a decrepit-looking rifle.

Having stayed motionless up to this point, Bruce sprang forward to wrench the gun away. Instead of fighting him over it, the person pushed him off balance and then pulled out something else that was clearly a weapon.

Blurring into action, Black Widow kicked out their legs from behind, knocking the weapon from their hand so that Bruce caught it with a deftness surprising for a 'simple' nerd. After checking the figure was disarmed, and that Bruce had their gun, she whirled and fired one laser shot at the ground in front of the insectoid alien to send up a cloud of dirt and smoke, flicked on her remote to make Scrapper 142 collapse to the ground convulsing in pain, and then trained her rifle on the frozen person now on their knees. With another brush of her thumb, she deactivated the Obedience Disk, letting the Avenger's prisoner gasp for breath. Over that, eyes having never left the larger alien, Black Widow loudly yet calmly said, "Our companion shouldn't have attacked you, so we're in the wrong. Except if you want to keep fighting I will shoot your friend here. Truce?"

". . . Truce," agreed the larger alien, apparently a Brood. Its thick raspy voice from behind those massive fangs, was so utterly inhuman it made the hairs on the back of Black Widow's head stick up. Nothing she had ever heard was remotely like that sound; nothing she could compare it to, to even try and describe. Nonetheless, it remained hunched down as if to pounce, even if it stayed where it was.

"You're just going to leave, then?" scoffed the second one that Black Widow was aiming at. She had a clearly feminine voice. "With her!?" She gestured toward their prisoner. "That's the Grandmaster's favourite pet!" Evidently, the make-up had failed to truly disguise her. Except it's also dark. So how would she know? Heightened senses? Or maybe very familiar with Scrapper for some reason?

Groaning, the woman in question focused on the speaker, before sneering in recognition. "Well, well, well, if it isn't little Princess Elloe Kaifi. Grandmaster's been wanting to have you in the Contest for a while now. Oh, and how's the family?"

"You—!" the other woman made an aborted lunge, before re-registering the gun pointed straight at her.

Clearing his throat, Bruce mildly said, "How about we all put down our weapons, and go inside and talk about this away from our audience? Like civilized beings?"

Ignoring the palpable air of incredulity that even Black Widow was flashing him, he gave a toothless smile. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that none of us want to be picked up by the authorities. Your neighbours might leave you alone, but you wouldn't want to risk anybody else coming by. So we've got something in common right there."

"Brood don't talk or negotiate," gritted out Scrapper 142.

The being in question hissed. It was quite unnerving, raising the hairs of Black Widow's neck.

"This one's different!" Elloe Kaifi sharply said. "She's different!"

"Would you have expected a Brood to stop when its companion was threatened?" hazarded Bruce. Seeing Scrapper 142's hesitation, he gave a decisive nod. "Well then, it seems like we've got a lot to talk about."

Seeing as how the most dangerous Avenger was currently playing 'Good Cop,' Black Widow played along and slowly lowered the barrel of her gun. A beat, and the Brood relaxed its –her?— body.

"Good," Bruce continued to smile, acting as if he were totally calm and in control.

-(Alien) Sun-

This was easily one of the most surreal moments ever for either hero. Which, given their mutual histories, was really saying something.

Even worse, they were dealing with a literally alien situation. Clearly whatever the insect-like alien was, it –she?— was something that got even the sullen and apathetic Scrapper 142 riled up with a combination of almost genuine concern, mixed with an excuse to unleash some bloodlust.

They were all sitting on the floor in the main room right inside the hovel, with Kaifi and No-Name on the other side, in front of another doorway leading further in, which was directly in front of the main entrance. Beside that first door, Natasha chose a spot for herself and Bruce, where they could rest their backs up against a wall to the side that let her keep a close eye on both their 'hosts.' Scrapper 142, who was hunched down on the ground in the corner on the opposite side of her captors and by the front; allowing as much of a compromise as possible keeping her at a distance from everyone else. While his fellow Avenger seemed perfectly relaxed and calm, with no weapons in hand, Bruce knew that she was merely putting the aliens at ease—at the slightest sign of danger she would palm her taser discs and throw them. Moreover, the remote to Scrapper 142's Obedience Disc, remained in her hand.

Now that things had calmed down, they were also able to safely observe their hosts in detail.

The first person, Elloe Kaifi, was surprisingly human. Indeed, she looked just like a normal young woman in her twenties, except for the dark pink skin, and little spikes (horns?) sticking out of her chin.

Her raven hair was filthy and ragged. Bruce recognized that it had been awkwardly cut to shoulder length with a knife or something similar; possibly the crude if functional sword that she was holding in her hand?

It was more of a sharp blade tied to a metal pole, both of which were about the length of her forearm. However, Bruce had enough experience with dangerous people to recognize when someone was clearly familiar with their weapon of choice.

Eyes lit by fury, and more than a shade of desperation, and he knew that it remained very probable this would end badly. Fortunately –sort of— these negative emotions were mostly directed towards Scrapper 142. As much as he hated to admit it, the fact that Natasha was keeping the other alien woman on a short leash might earn them some brownie points.

As for the final member of this little group . . . He unfortunately had a pretty good idea why Scrapper 142 had reacted so strongly at sensing a Brood, as they did indeed appear quite monstrous. Indeed, this was honestly the most 'alien' looking extraterrestrial he had encountered so far. Everyone from Thor, Scrapper 142, to even the Chitauri, had all appeared remarkably Human.

There was nothing remotely Human about what was before them.

The Brood's appearance was as if a mad scientist had enlarged a hornet, and then experimented to see how many deadly additions could be slapped on. Forearms like whips, long razor-sharp fangs that were always visible, tail stingers (which given the theme he was seeing, he uncomfortably suspected were poisonous), wings, and the exoskeleton that definitely gave the impression of being more like armour.

Combined with how fast she had moved, he could tell how terrifying an entire swarm of them would be.

Especially given how badly the fight had seemed to be going for Scrapper 142. Notwithstanding how she had no weapons this time, and I'm sure she's still got some injuries from before she's hiding. At the top of her game, and head-on, I'm sure she'd have done better.

Already he was hoping they could convince these people to let them stay for at least the night. While staying up later finding someplace to stay was an option, it was not one he was enthusiastic about. At least here, none of the group (barring Scrapper 142) wanted to go to the authorities, even if that that meant both parties had to trust each other enough not to murder anyone asleep.

They can't kill the Other Guy, and I don't think they're all that worried about us betraying them later either. Moving elsewhere in the morning is simple enough, and it seems like stories of a Brood living peacefully won't be believed anyways. Nonetheless, Scrapper 142 is a problem since they obviously have issues with her. How do we make them trust us?

Huh . . . Actually, since Nat and I know almost absolutely nothing about No-Name's species, he worried, that includes how talented they are at picking up lies. For all we know, she'll be able to realize when we're telling lies, like sensing changes in our heartbeat. Or maybe our scents! Dogs supposedly can, right? Or who knows what?

For a moment he thought he had hidden his reaction, yet Natasha still glanced at him. Wincing slightly, he mouthed, "Andrea," confident she would catch the reference to the female employee Tony relied upon to run truth and lie detector tests for new personnel like Maria Hill. JARVIS was not –had not— been quite as talented at detecting lies. Or rather, he could track Human reactions to tell if they were lying, but he lacked the artificial intuition to truly understand how to dig deeper into the motives of strangers. Apparently, Andrea had been hired on after his best friend's experience with one 'Natalie Rushman.' She seemed nice enough, and he knew Tony enjoyed making cracks about Andrea tying her current boyfriend up while promising some 'fun times,' then pulling out her detector to start questioning them. To her credit, Andrea gave as good as she got from her boss, and seemed to enjoy the banter.

A twitch of her chin, and Natasha signaled she got the message. No outright lying here.

I wonder if the others can see it? he wondered, as his (new) girlfriend transformed before his eyes. The slight relaxing of her body, the lightest extra touch of warmth in her eyes. All signs of her putting the professional assassin aside to be the woman she was while not on duty.

He had worried if she would listen to him, as he knew how self-assured she was in her masks, especially after fooling a millennia-old alien like Loki, yet it appeared she agreed with him.

Or at least decided open honesty –as much as she ever showed strangers— was worth the risk.

Regrettably, it seemed that their new 'acquaintances' were indeed capable in their own right. By the way Kaifi's eyes narrowed further, she had caught the silent communication. "Before anything else," she snarled, "why do you have the Grandmaster's," she spat out an unrecognizable, alien word Bruce still got the gist of, "following you around!?"

"Scrapper," invited Natasha, holding up the remote clear for all to see. Scowling, the woman pushed aside her collar, and tilted her neck to show the Obedience Disc.

"Hah!" crowed Kaifi, now finally processing what had happened outside. Bursting out laughing, she finally putting her weapon down beside her.

Capitalizing on the good mood, he said, "I'm Bruce Banner, by the way. Call me Bruce."

"Natasha Romanoff, although I'm also called Widow. Or Black Widow." Interesting, so she was using her full title now. Guess this was a compromise of hers as part of being more open after all. "Natasha's good."

"Well, you already know my name's Elloe Kaifi, and you may call me Elloe if you wish. This is No-Name. She calls herself that since Brood don't use names to distinguish themselves."

"Oh, well," he said, "we've never heard of a Brood before though." He glanced at Scrapper 142, "So I'm guessing that you somehow smelled her," he gestured at the insectoid alien, "through all the garbage?"

"'Her'!?" scoffed Scrapper 142.

"Yes, her," Elloe sharply said. Taking a breath, she turned to Bruce. "Soldier-class Brood like her don't technically have genders, but that's how she prefers to be referred to."

Smirking patronizingly, Scrapper 142 shook her head. "Really? I admit I've never seen one this cunning before, but it doesn't change their nature. Enough of them've come to Sakaar over the years for me to recognize the scent, and every time we've got to put 'em down before too many people die."

Never taking her eyes off her target, she lectured the Avengers, "Brood are one of the deadliest beings in the universe, from a galaxy far away from here. They're fast and strong even by my standards, with an exoskeleton like armour plate, razor-sharp teeth, and tail stingers loaded with venom. Their only response to other species is to kill 'em, eat 'em, or worse, implant their eggs in them. Only the eggs don't just hatch in their hosts, oh no, that's too nice. They take over the whole body, rewriting the DNA so the person becomes a whole new Brood. Even keeps the genetic material deemed most valuable. Even worse, they're spacefaring, letting 'em travel around for new places to infest and conquer."

"So they're like xenomorphs," quipped Natasha.

Scrapper 142 glanced in surprise at her captors at that. Perhaps she wondered if Earth had similar creatures.

Face becoming increasingly cold and harsh, Elloe snapped, "And if that were true, I'd already be dead! No-Name's not like the rest of them!"

"Nice try," sneered Scrapper 142. "But all Brood have a—"

"Psychic link?" interrupted the alien insect, cocking its head to show the livid scar on the side. "Even if the great Empress' mind could reach me here, I can never again be a part of the Whole."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm no longer like the others. Because to survive I had to . . . change."

While the Grandmaster's enforcer was clearly confused, Natasha started to find herself understanding. "You had to learn how to co-exist and cooperate with others down here in the slums, particularly your friend Elloe."

"Yes," No-Name acknowledged. Eyes squinting slightly in what seemed to be curiosity and maybe a touch of suspicion. "You caught on remarkably quickly."

"In our society we have a condition called sociopathy. When someone has a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience. That's pretty much the dictionary definition of it." Shrugging, "The reason I understood, is that I've often been mistaken for a high-functioning one, who relies on others to survive. Letting them tell me what's right and wrong, and doing whatever I'm told to do, because otherwise society would try and dispose of me. So I can appreciate when I see others bucking similar stereotypes."

Unconsciously Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder. He was sad to admit at one point he had also held such suspicions about her. However she did not really care about that, aside from that display of 'trust,' might make the others friendlier.

A rattling sound came from No-Name's throat, before she relaxed and nodded her head. "I see. You have tales of your own then. Regardless, you are right. I learnt to overcome my species' engrained beliefs, and come to value . . . others. Including resisting the urge to kill all who are not Brood."

"Because if little Brood started scurrying around, the Grandmaster would've sent in the troops to burn you out," sneered Scrapper 142. "Sending what was left of you to die in the Contest."

"As well as killing off everyone else who lives here!" shot back Elloe. Reigning in her anger, she gave No-Name's back a gentle stroke. "She's learnt to care about others. Besides, it's queens who implant eggs, you fool! Not soldiers! And since she's arrived she's mostly only killed in self-defense."

Sniffing, Scrapper 142 said nothing else.

Aiming to break off another fight before it began, Bruce decided to change the subject. "You two probably've already figured this out, but we're new here. Just arrived."

"Stumbling down here was either very smart, or very dumb then," Elloe dryly noted, before her eyes narrowed in thought. "But yeah, no surprise, since it explains a thing or two. Like how you got a leash on the Grandmaster's pet dog without news of that getting out. She came to enslave you, and you got her first."

Bruce winced at the notion they had enslaved Scrapper 142; preferring to view it as just taking her prisoner. Natasha of course had her face blank, with a touch of studied interest, which was probably genuine. She was more . . . practical that way.

"Also explains how you failed to recognize little miss celebrity over here," snidely taunted the prisoner/slave in question.

"Must you keep goading for a reaction?" drawled back Natasha. Obviously, she was getting a little tired of it, especially given how she knew the alien woman wanted to provoke the other alien woman. "Let me guess, the Kaifi family, you use your second name for family names, right? Good. The Kaifi family was a prominent family, which is how you two first met, probably at one of the Grandmaster's celebrations—that's how she recognized you despite your disguise in near pitch-dark. Then one day the Grandmaster decided to kill her family. Maybe on a whim, maybe because they were too popular for his liking." Bruce caught the glimmer of vindication in the pink-skinned woman's eyes at the compliment. "Except Elloe, guessing the daughter of the family, somehow escaped, and evaded all attempts at capture. You decided against going after her too, if only because you prefer the thrill of nabbing people coming out of wormholes over hunting through the streets. Plus, the bounty wasn't large enough to pay for all the drinks you'd have to buy while searching everywhere. That about sums it up?"

No-Name made a noise that made Bruce think she was amused. "Pretty much." In contrast, Scrapper 142's scowl deepened at the verbal slap, yet blissfully fell silent.

"We're trying to get home," Bruce went on. "Right now, though, we're just looking for somewhere to rest for the night. Is it alright if we stay here, or is there someplace nearby?" It was a gamble of course, as these were not the first fugitives he had come across while on the run; too many people trying to hide in the same place. Fortunately, he had gotten a good sense of when those he had bumped into wanted to be left alone, or when they wanted no witnesses, and learned to know when to make himself scarce. Of course, he was dealing with aliens right now, who were targets of a government who wanted to enslave them for means of entertainment, and had little reason to believe he and Natasha would not sell them out if caught themselves. Fortunately for their position, by capturing Scrapper 142 as they had, it was likely the Grandmaster would be displeased with the Avengers in turn, if and when he found out. After a crime like that, even selling out others was unlikely to save their skins. Moreover, given how they had some sort of co-existence with others in the neighbouring streets –threatening graffiti aside— it implied the two aliens were able and willing to make deals with others.

So yes, he had a good feeling Elloe and No-Name would not try and kill him and Nat in their sleep.

Besides, he really wanted to get some shut-eye, and figured none of the other locals here would cause trouble for anyone living with the implicit protection of someone as fierce as No-Name.

"I'm sure we can work out some sort of bargain," he added on. "Like getting you stuff from the markets above since we're not wanted criminals."

"Yet," snarked Elloe, even if she were clearly considering the offer. Moreover, as a man who had been far too lonely on the run himself, he knew fellow unwilling hermits when he saw them. Her friendship with No-Name –which must be a story in itself— probably meant that the others living here in the slums, the other unwanted people on a literal world of trash, avoided the two of them. When was the last time they had a genuine conversation with anyone else?

They might have someplace to stay after all.

-(Alien) Sun-

It was times like this which reminded Natasha that a little empathy and kindness could go a long way. Her own childhood, followed by years of being a spy and assassin, worming her way into people's good graces so she could betray them, had left her rather cynical about people being friendly to her in turn. Fortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. and then the Avengers had shown her there genuinely were those who would help others, without feeling some sort of entitlement and expecting something in return. People she wanted to resemble more herself.

Right now though, No-Name and Elloe appeared sadly grateful for some sort of new and accepting companionship. Not to the point they would endanger themselves for those who are strangers, of course. Moreover, Natasha did not feel like risking their lives like that anyways. These two had enough on their plate.

Although, we could offer them a better life back home on Earth. Even if Hulk, and thus Bruce, may be a wanted fugitive after Johannesburg, we can work something out with Steve, Stark, and the others. Well . . . mostly Stark, since we'd need his money and such to hide what is essentially a giant beetle-Xenomorph from the public. Like at that new compound he's been building for us? Oh, and either a big plane, or a comfortable truck to get her there.

That line of thought sent her mind off in a new and conflicted direction, even if she was confident she kept it hidden from the others. People only saw the expressions and moods she wanted them to, with Bruce, Laura, and Clint being the exceptions. Even then she suspected it was because she subconsciously wanted them to be able to read her; wanted to know she felt safe being a little bit vulnerable around them.

Here and now, she found herself actually relaxing a bit with these two aliens. Which was a nice surprise, as she really did not want to find herself stuck in assassin mode. Or Black Widow mode, as it seemed to be when she was around Bruce.

(She still kept her thumb on the trigger for Scrapper 142. She was not stupid.)

(For the same reason, nor was she going to risk an outright lie in case she got caught on it.)

"It's not going to work, y'know."

Everyone glanced at Scrapper 142 who was knowingly eying Natasha. "I beg your pardon?"

"Whatever you're planning. I've seen people like you come here before. Maybe you really do care about the freak and the outcast instead of wanting them as patsies, except it'll not make a difference. Time and time again bright-eyed idealists come to Sakaar and think they can change things, only to be broken."

Glancing at Elloe, she cheerily continued, "Remember that Nova Corps captain from a few years ago? When I nabbed him, he went on about how he would never live as a slave and how he would overthrow the system. That he would never kill someone for sport in the arena. Care to guess how long that lasted in the Contest of Champions? Remember how he was in the end? I think he was crying when he saw all that blood on his hands. And—what?"

Seeing the irritation on her prisoner's face, Natasha widened her smile even farther, showing off all her pearly whites.

(All her original teeth even, despite how many fights and torture sessions she had endured. That was how good she was.)

(Unfortunately, she had needed some dental work given her less than stellar living conditions growing up in the Soviet Union.)

"Whatever innocence I've had died long ago. I've got red gushing out of my ledger, and I've been broken before, and I've broken others as well. Trust me, I'm not the idealist you think I am."

Before she could damage what progress they had made with Elloe and No-Name, she continued with, "I'm doing much better now though, and want to protect genuine idealists like Bruce. Besides," she cooed icily, "you know what happens to people who get past me."

"Yeah, your boy toy's got a real monster inside of him," allowed the other woman, with a touch of appreciation and a flicker of remembered pain.

"What?" hissed No-Name in surprise.

"Oh yeah. Turns into a bigger, greener, version of himself."

Seeing the confusion, Bruce sighed and briefly elaborated. "A failed experiment, which was all my fault, left me with a dual personality. Direct threats to me bring him out, and he's . . . strong. Worse, he's got a temper. I thought we had an understanding and could make it work . . . and then it didn't. It's one of the reasons we've got to get off this planet so he doesn't hurt anybody else."

"As in someone like Scrapper 142," realized Elloe as she finally understood the bruises on the woman's face. "I thought she'd just gotten so wasted you got the drop on her!"

Irritated, the slaver tried another tact. "If you're so tough, why bother trying to leave? The strong live it up pretty slick here. You can make a new life for yourselves on Sakaar. Yeah, it can suck at times, but it's got it's good stuff too." Alcohol went unsaid. "I mean really, what's back home there that's worth risking your lives over?"

Natasha nearly hesitated at this before mastering herself. Honestly, neither she nor Bruce had even stopped to think about staying here. The Barton family was back on Earth waiting for her, and as broken as dysfunctional as they were, so were the Avengers. Clint's wife and kids may not mean as much to Bruce, yet she knew that the rest of them –particularly Tony— did, despite how much he had wanted to run away earlier today. Because as much as they still resembled a time bomb, the Avengers were still also for him the closest thing he had to a family. Or at the very least, even though he was planning to run away and disappear again –on Earth— he would know he had close friends he could stop by to visit whenever he got too lonely. Besides, this current planet they were on brought Hulk too close to the surface for anyone's comfort.

While she may appreciate the Hulk more than most, Natasha was not blind to the fact he was a raging berserker at times, and one who had killed in the past. Worst of all, she had not missed his reluctance to let Bruce regain control of the 'steering wheel.' If they remained on this alien world that left her boyfriend so on edge, there was no guarantee the Lullaby would work next time to bring him back.

Furthermore, while they were hardly, pampered, American snobs, living in a world of trash remained decidedly unappealing to them.

They had standards.

(Standards which had been further raised by living with a billionaire who insisted on buying expensive things to prove he cared.)

So she turned it around. "Who're you trying to convince here?" she silkily asked, noting the confusion followed by defensive anger in the other woman as she figured it out. "Honestly, why would we want to live here when the most we have to offer in currency is pretty much violence and our own bodies? Hard pass. Sorry, we've got people back home that care about us."

Now that got a reaction, and Natasha knew to drop the subject as Scrapper 142 flinched and her fingers fisted. Obviously, she was digging at a gaping emotional wound that was being ignored as much as possible. Being sober was likely not helping.

"So, let me guess," Elloe said, her face a blank mask now too, clearly trying to hide how she felt. "You're gonna offer us a trip back to your world, and asylum, if we help you? What level of spacefaring are you at anyways?"

"Uhm, hardly at all honestly."

"Then it won't work out," No-Name rasped, sounding genuinely regretful. "No offense, but from how you're dressed, and what you're carrying as new arrivals, your world looks too primitive for us, especially since that makes it unlikely you've got many members of other species back home anyways. How used are your people to aliens? Could you even guarantee we'd be protected there?"

Wincing, Bruce sighed and shook his head, and she silently had to agree. Never mind the lack of official authority for the Avengers, or even official recognition, after how the Hulk tore up Johannesburg, he would be lucky if every international peacekeeping organization was not actively hunting him. Granted, both of them would still prefer that over being stuck here. "No, we can't," he sadly confirmed.

"You also don't really have a plan to pull it off anyways," Elloe shrewdly said. "Otherwise you wouldn't be down here trying to trade for asylum. Sorry, you don't have nothing to offer for us to risk it for something that big."

"Can we at least stay here for a while then?" asked Natasha. That, at least, she was sure they could manage.

Sure enough, No-Name and Elloe glanced at each other in unspoken communication, before turning and nodding together. "We can work something out," agreed Elloe. "So long as you earn your keep, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"Thank you!" Bruce sincerely said. "Got to tell you, that's a big weight off my mind. It'll be nice to take a moment to relax."

Unfortunately, he had overlooked one little detail.

"What're you so chipper for?" sneered Scrapper 142. "All of this talk, talk, talk just makes me want to get plastered all the more. You're not any better off than you were before." Offering a smile laced with sweet venom, she continued, "The Grandmaster's been making Sakaar dance to his tune for millions of years. What makes you so sure you'll succeed where everyone else has failed?"

Of course, neither Avenger had any answer for that.

-(Alien) Sun-

The silence was broken by a frantic hammering at the door. "It's me," trilled a new voice. "It's me! Let me in!"

Elloe seemed to snort at a hidden joke, before calling out, "Remember to watch the first step!"

A cloaked figure carefully opened the door and hopped over the pitfall trap, before turning to Bruce and Natasha. "Excuse me, can I touch you?"

"No," Natasha automatically said.

"Alright then, uhm, who is Darth Vader the father of?"

"Luke and Leia," a stunned Natasha managed automatically.

"You're from Earth!" breathed out Bruce.

"Wait!" snapped Natasha. "How'd you find us?"

"Oh, I've been scanning for Earth tech and transmissions for years. I picked up the signals from your gear, and surprise, surprise after following you all around the capital I end up back here with my neighbours!" The hood hiding their face shifted, "Huh, I don't know about you," she gestured at Natasha, then Bruce, "but you are dressed like an Earthling. Awesome!"

"Wait, they're from that planet!?" gasped Elloe, standing up suddenly. Whirling to No-Name, her face broke out into a grin. "Maybe this can work out after all!"

"Yes," nodded No-Name. "Getting there may still be impossible, but upon arrival, we may indeed have favourable options. Although . . ." She craned her head to look at the new arrival. "We have to be sure it'll be safe."

"Oh, right. Do either of you know a group called S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I'm a former member," Natasha cautiously allowed. "I'm working with another group now though."

There was hesitation on the newcomer's part. "Did you leave on good terms?"

"It was complicated. Although the former Director approved of it."

"I see." Seeming to steel themselves, they threw back the hood to show their face.

It was Nick Fury.

Some twenty to thirty years younger.

Black Widow's handgun shot up to point at the impossible face, even as she tried to keep her awareness on Scrapper 142 so the super-alien wouldn't jump them. Despite herself, she felt a frown on her face that for anyone else would be a full-faced snarl at the—what did she feel? Insulted? Betrayed? Definitely threatened.

"How, how do you have Nick Fury's face?" managed Bruce, equally stunned.

"You recognize him, good, good," smiled 'Fury.' "But first, friend or foe?"

"Uhm, mentor and friend for Nat, and, I guess, acquaintance for me. Sorta. Kinda of a boss at times too. Our relationship was complicated. Tried to be friends at least."

The man who approved Clint's decision not to kill me. Risked taking me in. Who stood up for me by authorizing me to be a member of S.H.I.E.L.D., and giving me a second chance. Trusting me with his most important missions. Sponsoring me to be an Avenger, as well having faith in me to help vet Stark and the rest. All that and more.

Holding up his hands in placation, 'Fury' continued to smile, both eyes beaming. "This may get a bit freaky, so sit tight." His face impossibly shifted, like it was being torn apart and put together again differently, showing the skin and bone underneath, before settling into a bald, pointy-eared, green woman's face. "Fury's a friend of me and my family."

Seeing their confusion, she became hesitant. "He never told you about the Skrulls?" she asked nervously. "Alien shapeshifters? Kree invasion in the 1990s?"

"What," was Black Widow's cold, iron reply.

-(Alien) Sun-

Back on Earth, Nicholas J. Fury felt an inexplicable shiver go up his spine, and resisted the unusual urge to rub his eyepatch.

-(Alien) Sun-

After a long moment, Natasha holstered her gun, and sat back, still keeping a half eye on Scrapper 142, who now seemed distracted enough from her addiction. "No, no he did not tell us. Which is a shame since I would've expected, given how I thought I was one of the people he trusted most, that he would have told us about something like that."

She had her emotions back under control now, even though she projected clear skepticism. She suspected it was a forlorn hope though, as experience had also made her resigned to the fact the man would always hoard secrets to his dying breath.

"I'm Bruce Banner, and this is Natasha Romanoff," offered Bruce. "So you're able to shapeshift?"

"All Skrulls can, idiot," groused Scrapper 142, her curiosity at this newest twist still occupying her attention. "The Grandmaster's got a special bounty for them."

"And I have no interest in sating his perverted tastes," hissed the reptilian alien upon recognition. She threw Elloe and No-Name a concerned look, yet the pink-skinned woman made a gesture which reassured her. "Anyways, yes, all Skrulls can. To varying degrees. Most civilizations can't detect us, including the Kree, except the Grandmaster's somehow got the tech. I had to come down here to hide after my ship and I got sucked up by one of his roaming wormholes, and I met these two. My powers helped me learn that No-Name was actually different, so we ended up befriending each other. I live only a single house down from here. Well, if you can call that hole a house."

Her explanation was met with several blank stares, as even her neighbours were confused as to where she was going with all this.

"Oh, sorry, my name is Lyja. We don't have surnames like you do on Earth, since historically we've always shown family status by scent. Although, I guess you could call me Lyja Talosdaughter?"

"You were saying something about an alien invasion," prompted Natasha. "One we'd never heard of before."

"Ah, yes. Well, my people, the Skrulls, had been fighting a losing war against the Kree ever since they destroyed our homeworld for not submitting to them. A defector of theirs made contact with us, named Mar-Vell. Although, she tended to prefer Dr. Lawson, which was her cover as an Earth scientist. Her superiors thought she was using Earthling infrastructure and resources to develop some secret and dangerous projects. In reality, she was helping me and other refugees find a new home away from the war. Including hiding us on her cloaked cruiser. I don't really remember her, because I was a baby when the Kree found and murdered her, but she left behind a lot of Earth toys, books, movies, and other tech behind, and the adults loved her.

"Anyways, my father, Talos, finally found us, along with the help of Agent Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria Rambeau, her daughter Monica, and Carol Danvers. Carol was a Human that—" she hesitated before continuing, "—That the Kree had abducted, and gave super-powers to. When she got her memories back, she turned on them, and helped blow up their ships. She gave Fury a communicator before leaving with us to find a new world to call home. Oh, and there was a Flerken named Goose who helped a bunch too."

While Bruce blinked, Black Widow remained impassive as they absorbed all of this history. Neither of them had any knowledge of these events, which both considered deeply concerning. Bruce quickly realized that since none of this had been in the S.H.I.E.L.D. data dump Natasha and Steve Rogers had done, it meant that there could be many more secrets left to be uncovered. He was feeling increasingly sympathetic for Steve's anger towards the reveal of how Tony and himself had been keeping the others in the dark about experimenting on Loki's Scepter.

This new information also begged the question: why had Fury never contacted the Skrulls for help if he supposedly trusted them so much?

Although if they were refugees, there might not've been much they could've done. That may even also explain the lack of records; Fury didn't want to leave any hints lying around that the Kree, apparently an advanced, spacefaring race, could hack out of our computer systems.

His partner, however, was fixated on the fact that aliens had been infiltrating Earth to run experiments. How many more like that are there? How much does Fury know about that?

Nevertheless, she instantly understood that whatever secrets Fury was holding onto, they were ones he believed too dangerous to trust anyone else with. She had not missed how Lyja had been about to say something else about Carol Danvers –something important about a woman she had never heard of— before remembering to skip over it. There was also a growing bitterness as she wondered why Fury had never seen reason to trust the Avengers with this. With her. After everything they had done to prove themselves! Especially given how close some of their 'victories' had been, when every little edge, even an alien ray gun or two, would have made the difference. What kind of games was that man playing at—she ruthlessly suppressed those lines of thought. She needed to be strong. Bruce needed her to be strong. Especially since she had just registered something.

"You said Fury would have a way to contact your people?" repeated Black Widow.

There was a definite flicker of mirth mixed with disappointment in Lyja's eyes, presumably at how they had not asked about 'Flerkens,' yet Natasha did not take the bait. It was best to remain in control as much as possible for this conversation; and really, what more did she need to know than that there had been three alien species involved?

"Yes," she still answered. "Carol left Fury with a communicator that would reach her in emergencies, even when several galaxies away."

What.

Just. What?

"That's why No-Name and I are more interested now," admitted Elloe. "Going through any old portal's not worth the risk, because even if we end up someplace safe, it could be anywhere in the universe and no better off, since Skrulls and Brood aren't really liked by other spacefaring races. Getting to Earth is the best plan we've come up with, since if her family friends are still alive and trustworthy, they can protect us while calling for Captain Marvel and Skrulls to get a ride someplace safe. Only thing is, Lyja never learnt enough to find it on a nav computer. Do you think you know enough to help narrow down what galaxy you're from?"

Smiling, Bruce gave a nod as he started to catch on. Natasha was wondering if there was any significance to Danvers being mentioned before the Skrulls. She was also happy to see the start to a more feasible plan to get home than Scrapper 142's 'go through a random wormhole and hope for the best.'

"Perfect," Elloe brightened. "So if we can get to Earth, No-Name, Lyja and I can stay with Fury. Or you guys. Since he's your friend, he can take care of the rest. Now, as for actually getting off-planet, unlike every other attempt, this should be feasible because you've got Scrapper 142! Who better to know about all the security and layout to the palace, including the spaceport?"

The woman in question was rather sullen looking at that. Unfortunately, with the Obedience Disc on, and people's general attitude towards her, she considered it better to remain meek and quiet. For now.

"We just need proof first," rasped No-Name.

"Proof?"

Wincing, Lyja held out her hand. "One of the reasons my people make such good infiltrators is that we can copy not only appearances, but only short-term memories. Only if we've touched them, though."

"Really!?" gasped Bruce. "That's, how d'you, what, really!?"

"Yes."

"Are there any side effect?" bit out Natasha. "And how much do you learn?"

"When was the last time you saw him?" hedged Lyja.

"Less than a day."

"Then that's all I'll look for."

Softly, yet letting the hint of cold steel be heard, Natasha said, "If I ever find out you've gone further, we'll both regret me showing you this trust."

Seeing something in her eyes, Lyja gulped and nodded. Cautiously, she extended her fingers to brush against Natasha's own, and darted back a second later, jumping up and down with glee. "It's true! It's true! I saw Fury! Oh wow, and he's bald now too! Still looks as awesome as I remember though!"

A crackling noise erupted from No-Name's throat, while Elloe pumped her fist. "Sweet! I can't wait to meet them all after all the stories you've told!"

All these oblique references made a very strong part of Black Widow want to find out a way to reach the Skrulls and Danvers before going back to Earth, if only to get the full picture to help her in her subsequent grilling of her ex-boss and friend. Who knows what else he was—

She stopped to follow her next leap of logic, and put on a consoling face. "That's when he lost his eye, isn't it?"

Lyja nodded sadly. "Yeah. Goose clawed it out of him. Fury forgave him though."

Bruce's jaw dropped, and he was visibly fighting the urge to start pressing for details himself.

For herself, Natasha decided that it was best to put this on hold and come back to this later. It was probably best not to pressure Lyja too much . . . especially since she might disgracefully succumb to her growing urge to shake the alien woman until she coughed up every drop of information.

Like, what kind of name for a person is Goose!?

Although . . . Fury had always been explicit that he had lost his eye to someone he trusted . . .

Hmm, I wonder if the betting pool on how he lost his eye is still open? Bruce and I could probably retire off the winnings from that alone.

Still, now that we've got a shapeshifter seemingly eager to work with us, now things are starting to look up in our favour.

~~To Be Continued…~~

Author Notes:

Was pointed out to me that Bruce and Natasha would know that Earth had survived, just not the fates of their friends. Changes incorporated into chapter 3 now.

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I know that in the comics Elloe does not have spikes/horns on her chin; only the males of her species do. I made that little change to help differentiate her from the pink-skinned ladies we see in Guardians of the Galaxy 1, based upon the males from the film Planet Hulk.

.

To quote one of the original comics with the Brood, "The Uncanny X-Men! #162: Beyond the Farthest Star" by Chris Claremont:

"The Sleazoids –the Brood— are fast an' strong, as agile on the ground as in the air. Their skin is virtual armor plate, their teeth are razor-sharp, an' their tail stingers are loaded with venom. Kill' comes natural to 'em, an' they've refined it to an art. No deadlier beings exist in the universe… 'cept maybe me."

–Wolverine

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'Andrea' is an OC I doubt I will use again. I do like the idea from fics of Tony having other valued employees though.

.

Thanks to MetalOx137 for helping me with Natasha's reflections on Fury.

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Originally I was going to have the Skrull be Lyja the spy, whom comic fans may remember as a Skrull agent who was meant to infiltrate the Fantastic Four by replacing the girlfriend of Ben Grim, the Thing. Instead she ended up falling in love with Johnny Storm, the Torch, and marrying him. Suffice to say their relationship got awkward after she was outed.

Originally I was planning a whole backstory based on that, except for a different world than Earth. Now though, here she is as the now older, previously unnamed daughter of the lead Skrull in Captain Marvel, Talos.

.

Lyja is keeping quiet about how Carol got her powers because she remembered from what she has been told that the details of the Tesseract are rather secret. Also, she does not know why Fury kept Natasha and Bruce in the dark about the Skrulls, and what else he may be covering up. Her loyalty, and protection, is to Carol and Fury first over even her new friends.

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There is a reference in the comics for the MCU about Skrull Detectors, but given the difficulties the Kree faced, I am just going to label those as cons for the gullible. They do not really work. Except for the Grandmaster's.

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Next Chapter: 'Brainstorm'

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Recommended fics:

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"On Your Birthday," by DrRJSB

"Civil Outcome," by

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"Still Life With Flerken," by copperbadge (AO3)

"the identity crisis of one nicholas j. fury," by sevenfoxes (AO3)

"beneath the shadow of atlas (we're all just chasing stardust)," by GrimRevolution (AO3)

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"The Search for Victory," by Morena Evensong

"Avengers of the Ring," by Dr Matthattan

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"Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix," by DrRJSB

"Ironwitch pals" series by Waywardgoose (AO3)

"Two of a KindBy," by crematosis

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Please Review, and I will get back to you!