Buzzcut

Deraj had always been a shithole. Since the Ash Event, it had become even more of one. Enough of a shithole that the Kree Empire had seen fit to dispatch Starforfce to one of its territories, but so much of a shithole that it considered Yon-Rogg to be above such a menial task.

It was frankly humiliating. All of it was humiliating. The Ash Event had cost the Kree Empire half of its population, but more importantly, it had cost it its pride. Its power. People could be replaced. Control, in time, could be restored. But a stain of ink on the parchment that was history could never be restored. Centuries from now, people would still look back on this period as one of weakness. The point where the empire had not only been forced to negotiate peace with the xandarians, but also the point where it had begun to collapse. Less people meant less people to enforce law and order. Also less people to enforce that law and order against, but even if the percentage of death was similar, in terms of absolute numbers, Starforce was at a disadvantage.

So here he and his squad were. On Deraj. A planet in the far corners of the empire that had never really been a member, but more of a protectorate. Deraj was a wasteland, strip-mined of anything valuable for the glory of the empire, from its highest mountains to its deepest seas. The land was dead. Its oceans were dead. A few thousand descendants of the original colonists remained, unwilling to abandon the planet they called home. Even if the only remaining freshwater sources were underground aquifers, half of which were contaminated by runoff from strip mining. Desalinisation plants had been built along the coast, but when you lost half of the population, you lost a good deal of know-how in regards to operating the damn things. Which meant that the kree here needed water. Which meant that Starforce was here delivering fresh water. Because after the Ash Event, that was apparently all Starforce could do. Remind the people of its domains that yes, the empire still existed, and yes, they were still part of it, and yes, that meant they were still under its protection. And that meant getting water. And if they didn't want water, too bad, they were getting it anyway.

Luckily, the people weren't objecting. After Openi had had the idea of attempting secession…he winced. He didn't want to think about Openi. The Ash Event had removed half of Starforce. It hadn't removed the guns and ships still available to them. In hindsight, as humiliating as it was to give out bottled water to the plebs, he'd still take it above Openi. He suspected that most people would.

"Sir?"

He activated his ear-radio with one hand while handing out water to some snivelling brat in the process. "What is it Merr-Kury?"

"Incoming object sir," said his second in command. "Extra-atmospheric"

"Got an ID?"

"Negative sir. Only that it's small. And fast."

"ETA?"

"Five, ten minutes tops."

He handed out another bottle – old woman didn't know that it would be his last for the next half hour. "Get the squad together. And get the plasma battery ready."

"Of course sir."

It took a whole five minutes to get the people of Deraj to disperse. They weren't happy about it, even after he'd explained that the incoming object likely wasn't friendly, and almost certainly didn't give a damn about their dehydration problem. And to top it off, he'd reminded them that Starforce were the ones with the guns, and that the organization had been created with the intent on using them, not playing humanitarians.

He stroked his beard as the squad stood ready among the plasma battery. It was small – only about three quarters as tall as he was, and it was little more than a tripod with a pair of tubes attached. Still, looks could be deceiving. From those tubes would come a volley of plasma missiles that could incapacitate even a medium-sized capital ship. And given the size of the object approaching the site, in this case, it would outright destroy it.

"ETA?" he asked Merr-Kury.

"Four minutes to touchdown sir."

Yon-Rogg looked through his pathfinders. Whatever the object was, it was indeed small, but surrounded by fire, he couldn't get a good look at it.

"Well, let's not wait four minutes to find out what our visitor is up to." He lowered the pathfinder and nodded at Merr-Kury. "Destroy it."

Merr-Kury grinned and gestured to Ath-Ana. She nodded, and activated the plasma launcher.

It didn't actually make that much sound. But he felt it. Felt the heat of superheated gas, felt the air be blown towards him. But what he felt was little compared to what he saw. Dozens of plasma missiles being launched at the target.

"It's not veering off course," he murmured.

"Arrogance," Merr-Kury declared. "Or stupidity."

Yon-Rogg wasn't so sure. But whatever the case, the object was still coming down, and the missiles were still approaching it.

"Nearing target," Ath-Anna said. "Three…two…one…impact."

It was an impact. A big, blue-coloured impact that sent a shockwave in all directions. Superheated gas that was befitting of Deraj's history, only destruction being confined to the sky rather than below.

"Target neutralized," Ath-Ana said. She looked at Yon-Rogg and smiled. "Well, that was fun. Do we go back to handing out water, or do we investigate the wreckage and-"

"Incoming!"

He didn't know who said it. Probably didn't even matter. Because out of the plasma cloud in the sky came the object. Still hurtling down towards terra firma, still headed right for their position.

"Did we even hit it?!" Merr-Kury asked.

Yon-Rogg didn't know. But it didn't matter. The object wasn't just coming down, it was coming down faster than before. Almost like…

"Sir?" Mer-Kury asked.

It can't be.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

Not here. Not now.

"Sir?!"

Not after all these years.

"Sir, what are your orders?!"

Yon-Rogg drew out his pistol. He already knew how this was going to end. All he could do now was to put on a good show, even though chances were, none of the Starforce unit here would live to appreciate it.

"Sir, what are your-"

The object landed right in front of them with enough force that the plasma battery was knocked off its hinges and half of the unit were knocked off their feet. The object, shining with the fury of a star, but kreenoid in shape and size, looked at them.

"Shit!"

Again, he didn't know who even exclaimed that. But it didn't matter. All of Starforce began firing their plasma rifles. And even knowing what was coming, Yon-Rogg drew his pistol as well, ready to fire. Ready to make his last moments in this universe as dignified as possible.

He never got to pull the trigger. Because the kreenoid figure brought its fist to the ground and let out a wave of energy, knocking every Starforce member bar Yon-Rogg off their feet. And even then, before he could fire, it dashed up to him, grabbing his neck and lifting him upwards. He dropped the pistol, not so much in pain, but in shock. She'd always been fast, she'd always been strong, but this?

He looked into the figure's eyes. Past the light, past the fire, past the fury. It was like looking into the eyes of a god – one that had singled him out for all his sins, and was determined to deliver specific punishment. Lifting him with only one hand, the figure sent out a blast of energy with its other – someone let out a cry. He smiled, and the figure frowned.

"Hello Vers," her whispered.

The light faded from her eyes. Her golden hair, once reaching towards the heavens, fell limp around her neck. But the fury…that remained. That, and the sheer loathing he felt from her. Saw from her.

"That isn't my name," she whispered.

Yon-Rogg tried to say something.

The headbutt that knocked him unconscious ensured he never got the chance.

When he woke up, it was inside one of the dropships that had taken them to the planet. One of his wrists was chained in a handcuff, which in turn was attached to some of the indoor plumbing. The Strathon-class dropship was retro, and all the empire had spared for this little mission of mercy. Which meant pipes, and the associated smell. But bad as it was, his sense of smell was being overridden by his sense of sight.

"Oh good. You're awake."

She was sitting there in front of him – she'd ripped the command chair out of the cockpit and dragged it to the back of the ship. So now she was spinning on it, resting her left hand on its armrest, while in her right, she was flicking a blade.

"I'd be careful with that if I were you."

"What? This?" She smirked, still continuing to flick the blade in and out of its hilt.

"Yes, it's very-"

The blade activated.

"Dangerous."

Still smirking, she murmured, "doesn't seem too dangerous to me."

Yon-Rogg conceded the point. The blade was a very bright blue now, strong enough to cut through durasteel. But then, she didn't even need it. Even if the blade had been in his hands, and even if he'd had both hands free…well, he might have a chance against her.

"Where's my squad?" he asked.

He knew how this was going to end for him. But for the others…

"Fine," Vers said.

He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"They weren't too keen on the whole shooty-shooty thing after I incapacitated you, so I let them finish out handing the water, and then I packed them into the other dropship. Didn't waste any time in lifting off"

"And the colonists?"

"They're fine. Personally, I think me beating up Starforce did their spirits some good."

"And yet they're still here."

"And yet there's still here," Vers said, still smirking. "You'd be surprised as to how much they really want to stay away from the Empire." The smirk failed, the blade deactivated, and she began spinning it again. "Well, maybe not that surprising from my perspective."

Yon-Rogg snorted. "You always did have an interesting perspective Vers."

The spinning stopped. The smirk became a scowl, and a fire returned to her eyes. "Don't call me that," she whispered.

"What? Vers?"

The fire intensified, and Yon-Rogg laughed. "Oh if only you could see yourself," he whispered. "The woman who strides the stars like a goddess, brought low by but one word."

She threw the blade at him. It landed right by his ear, embedded into the metal behind him.

"You missed," he murmured.

Vers got to her feet and began walking over to him. "What do I do with you?" she muttered.

He dangled the cuffs. "Release me?"

"What do I do, when I'm reminded that the universe has no sense of justice?" She knelt down in front of him. "Do you know what the casualty rate was when Thanos snapped his fingers?"

"By our estimates? Fifty percent."

"Fifty percent," she repeated. She ripped the knife out of the metal and pointed it at his nose. "Fifty-fifty chance that you might be among the dead. Fifty fifty chance that something good might have come from galactic genocide."

He scowled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Though…" The scowl was replaced with a smirk. "I'm flattered you were thinking of me when it happened."

"I wasn't. But then I heard about what happened on Openi. Through video feeds, I saw what happened on Openi. And I…" She took a breath. "Better men then you were taken by Thanos Yon-Rogg. One man, two women in particular, and you…you, somehow manage to worm your way out of it."

"Well then…" He looked to the side, not meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't be. I'm not disappointed about anything I did. Why should you?"

"If you saw Openi, then…then you know I have plenty to be disappointed about." He looked back at her. "Call me what you want, Vers."

"Don't call me that."

"But I'm not a monster."

She snorted.

"I didn't pull the trigger, someone else would have."

She snorted. "Even on Earth, that's an old excuse."

"Then you know that when you're so low down on the chain of command that your name is barely above dirt…" He looked up at her again. "Your name only carries so much weight."

For a moment, there was something else in her eyes. Something that wasn't hatred or fury. Something like…compassion?

No. That's not it.

Pity. That was it. Pity. Vers pitied him. Humiliating. He watched as a wry smile appeared on her lips.

You know, when people said you should smile more, we weren't thinking about making up for lost time.

"Years haven't been kind to you have they?" she asked, yanking the knife out from the durasteel.

Yon-Rogg remained silent.

"Like the beard, for what it's worth." She tossed some of her own hair aside while Yonn-Rogg scowled.

"Was it that bad?" she continued. "Being called in for your failure?"

He didn't say anything.

"You know, if you don't give me something, I might just finish what I should have done two decades ago." She waved the knife at him again. "Go on. Tell me. I send you in a pod to Hala with your tail between your legs. What was it like, telling the Supreme Intelligence that you'd screwed up?"

"Actually, not as bad as you might think. It was what came after that got to me. That…" He tugged his beard. "Well, that did this."

"Go on," Vers murmured.

"You know what it's like, to be so overpowered that looking back, you realize there's nothing you could do?" Yon-Rogg asked. "Facing you that time, on C fifty-three…that was my moment Vers."

"I told you not to call me that."

"A demotion, I could live with. What I couldn't live with…" He took a breath. "You have any idea what it's like, to train for years? To improve your body, your mind, to push both to breaking point? All for the moment you hope is coming?"

"The hell you on about?"

"You, Vers, you." He waited for the name protest moment, but it didn't come, so he kept going. "I was waiting for you, you know. That moment where you'd show up, and I could best you, even at your best. Only…only you never came." He leant back against the metal. "One day, I just woke up and realized…it was all for nothing. That no matter what I did, no matter how hard I pushed myself…it would never be enough." He nodded towards the dropship's exit. "I think today was all the proof I need that biology's a fickle bitch."

"Not that fickle," she murmured.

"Could have been me you know," he whispered. "I could have got what you have if I'd been standing closer to that damn stardrive."

"Thanks for the nightmare fuel."

"Nightmares," he scoffed. You know nothing about nightmares."

She grabbed his throat and looked him in the eye. "I had nightmares for six years because of what you did," she whispered. "Don't you dare tell me I don't know what it is to have nightmares. To feel powerless. To…" She released his throat and stood up. She began pacing around, still flicking the knife in her hands.

"Was it that bad?" he asked. "Losing people you hadn't seen in years because you took pity on the skrulls?"

She glared at him for a moment before continuing to pace round.

"Is that it?" he asked. "Nothing else? No great insight from flying round in space?"

"Actually, I'm waiting to see if there's anything from you," she murmured. She stopped pacing and looked back at him. "Kree Empire's in ruins. I no longer need you as a messenger. Thanos is dead-"

"What?"

"…and there's no way to bring anyone back. So, I figure if I kill you now, then maybe, just maybe, the universe will be balanced in the right way just a bit. So…" She pointed the knife at him. "Anything else you want to say?"

Yon-Rogg smiled and lulled his head to the side.

"Anything?"

He chuckled.

"What?"

"You haven't changed," he murmured. "Two decades, and you're still the same angry terran I rescued."

"Abducted, you bastard."

"You're right. The years haven't been kind to me." He coughed, and not by choice to prove his point. "They've been kind to you though. You don't look a day older since we last saw each other."

Vers didn't say anything.

"Do you think the energy within you is doing it? Think when I'm dead and gone you'll still be shining brightly and all that?"

She still remained silent, but he could tell from the look on her face that she'd thought about it a lot. Smiling, he looked to the side again.

"I did see you you know," he murmured. "After Earth. After you kicked me off to Hala."

"In your dreams?" she murmured. "Or nightmares?"

"The answer is yes," he said. "But I'm not referring to my mind. I'm referring to my sight."

"What?"

"I saw the Supreme Intelligence only once after I returned to Hala, when it was made clear that rank and standing were lost to me for my sins. But…that's when I saw you Vers."

"Don't…I mean, what?"

"The Supreme Intelligence. That's when I saw you." He gestured towards her with his free hand. "Of course, you were wearing a proper Starforce uniform rather than that ridiculous colour scheme you've got on now, but…you saw me. In its eyes, I saw yours, and in its lips, I heard your voice. Admonishments for my failure, and yet…validation, I suppose?"

Vers said nothing.

"I've always admired you Vers. And even after you ruined my life, I still admired you. Considering how the Supreme Intelligence operates, I can only conclude I admired you even more."

Vers said nothing.

"But that means nothing, doesn't it?" he said. "You're here to kill me. You have the right to do so. And I've got nothing left to say." He sighed. "The empire's in ruins. The galaxy's devastated, and if what you say about Thanos is true, I can't even live to claim vengeance against that bastard. So…do it Vers."

"Don't call me that."

"Do it," he said. "You've beaten me twice already. Might as well make it a trifecta."

He saw her clutch the blade even harder.

"Do it!"

She took a step towards him, blade at the ready. He closed his eyes, ready for the inevitable. He'd set this in motion. The empire had paid the price, as had he. Now, at last, his sins had come full circle. Justice, if it existed, had caught up with him.

The blade never touched him.

"Vers?" He opened his eyes. He could see her walking away, towards the front of the ship.

"What are you doing?"

She said nothing.

"Are you even listening to me?"

She disappeared from his sight, if not from his mind.

"Great." He leant back and jingled the chain again. "Women."

He only had to wait ten minutes to see her again. But when he did, she wasn't quite the same.

"The hell did you do?" he asked.

"Made a change."

"Yes, but…your hair."

"Do you like it?"

"No."

"Why not? It's regulation length."

"Starforce doesn't have…" He sighed. "This is an Earth thing, isn't it?"

She shrugged. He could tell that she was in a good mood. But as her joy was coming at his expense, he wasn't inclined to share it.

Her hair was shorter now. Much shorter. It no longer flowed along her neck and shoulders. All that was gone. All that was left now was her golden hair sticking upwards, like some kind of plant.

"So…" Yon-Rogg said. "Is there some deeper meaning to this? Or is this just a style change?"

"The answer to your question is yes. But…" She walked over with the knife in hand. She drew it back, ready to swing.

"Vers, don't-"

The knife was thrown. He closed his eyes and looked away. But it never touched his flesh. Instead, it hit the shackle, destroying it with the force of the impact. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and just as slowly, he looked up at her.

"You're really not good with the knife throwing thing you know."

"Maybe. But who said I'm trying to hit you?"

He got to his feet, rubbing his wrist. "What's your game Vers?"

"Don't…" She took a breath. "Don't call me that name. Ever."

"It irritates you, so I've got every reason to call you that."

"Well, that isn't a sign of respect is it?" She took a step towards him. Despite his instincts yelling at him to do otherwise, he kept in place. Even as she reached forward, putting a hand on the wall he'd been leaning against up until now. Even as she whispered in his ear.

"You can see me how I used to be," she whispered. "But only in your dreams."

She turned around and headed for the exit. "I'm turning this ship over to the colonists," she said. "If the empire comes to collect you, you're free to go, but otherwise, you're staying here."

He followed her. "So…not death then."

"No," she said, walking down the ramp. "Not death. Although the colonists might have other ideas."

"I could still take the ship you know."

"You could," Vers said, reaching the bottom of the ramp. She turned round and looked up at him. "But do you really want to take that chance with me flying around?"

He supposed he didn't. So he kept silent as he watched her channel energy into her body. The energy that Mar-Vell had collected was one with her. The technology that had taken the skrulls to the stars had been bequeathed to her. To the point it was clear that she didn't need a spaceship at all.

"For what it's worth…I don't hate you," she said. She looked at him. "I'll never forgive you. I'll never respect you. But…I don't hate you. Not anymore. Sad reality is that what you did to me…it's let me help more people than I could have by just flying a fighter jet. So for that…maybe you can find something for yourself here. Maybe something that'll let you sleep better."

He said nothing. He just stood there, watching her.

"Goodbye Yon-Rogg."

He watched as she shot up to the heavens. Like some avenging angel. Like a comet in reverse. Like a second sun, illuminating the skies of Deraj, if only for a moment.

"Goodbye Carol," he murmured.

He watched her, before she disappeared beyond the clouds. Before entering space. To go beyond his sight, if not his mind. He stood there, staring, before finally looking away. Back down to earth. To barren soil of a barren world, of a galaxy made barren itself.

He needed some water.

A/N

So why does Carol get a haircut in Endgame?

Like, I get the out of universe reason (closer to the comics), but what's the in-universe one? The answer is "probably no reason at all," but screw it, I can do headcanon if I want. Also I saw people discussing it on a forum, and I like the idea of Yon-Rogg and Carol seeing each other further down the line at some point, so, um, yeah.