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"Another!" A man's voice boomed through the crowded tavern accompanied by the tinkling of shattering glass and followed by gales of hearty laughter. In truth, 'tavern' was stretching the definition of the word in favor of this dingy drinking hole on Contraxia. Vers thought in truth it was at best a dive, and was delighted by its rustic charm as much as her superior officer was disgusted by it. Or perhaps she was mostly delighting in the other woman's abject disapproval of the place they'd been stationed.
" Asgardians,” Minn-Erva spat, and Vers resisted once again the urge to look over her shoulder at them. She'd never seen an Asgardian - at least not since the accident that had robbed her of her memories, her life - and her dour superior hated them so vehemently that Vers thought they must be at least a little fun. She huffed a sigh and turned her dusty glass in her hands, her thoughts in conflict: Minn-Erva was aspirational. To be admired and emulated. She was also a miserable stick-in-the-mud.
Vers winced. Luckily, the Supreme Intelligence couldn't read her mind when she wasn't convening with it. But even so...
The laughter coming from the Asgardians was deafening, and had started rousing into song. Vers wondered if the Skrull agent they'd been hunting these past weeks would even enter, spurious weapons trade on the table or no. Asgardians were dangerous, everyone knew that. Unpredictable. From the way her teammates spoke of them, almost as much a threat to the Empire as the Skrulls themselves. Vers suspected, but would never say, that the only reason the Kree weren't at all-out war with Asgard was that they seemed by all accounts to be at least their equals in combat. If she were the Skrull, she wouldn't come within orbit of one of their warbands. But if that were how the Skrull operated, they'd avoid the Kree just as readily, and they did not. So, here they waited.
"Comms are down," Minn-Erva snapped abruptly. The toe of her boot tapped repeatedly against the floor while her eyes stayed fixed on her unresponsive communicator. "Keep watch for the target. I'm going to the ship." When she did look up, it wasn't at Vers; her blue-skinned commanding officer looked at the bawdy Asgardians. Vers could see muscles clench in her jaw as she ground her teeth against each other. She left without another word. Vers ordered another drink before the door had fully closed behind her.
A huge hand closed over her shoulder, and Vers' fists glowed with energy before she could stop them as she knew she should. The hand withdrew rather quickly, but the face attached didn't look concerned. Far from it, his beard bristled around a wide grin. Vers scowled, holding her raised fist in the air for a moment and letting the energy burn itself out as she glared. "Back up, hotshot."
The blond man raised his hands in supplication as he took a step back, and pointed at the selection of freshly-poured drinks arranged just behind her. "I meant no intrusion." His smile grew wider as Vers' eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips into a thin line. They twitched at the corner though, betraying her curiosity as her gaze slid past him to his still rowdily singing comrades in arms.
"You're a Kree warrior, aren't you?" The big guy's expression was curious, his easy smile the one of a man who feared no danger. There was a keen light in his gaze, too; one that spoke of intelligence and experience that backed up what might have otherwise been hollow bravado.
Vers lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Last time I checked. And you are?" From the look in his eyes, he wasn't used to people not knowing who he was, but it doesn't shift the smile from his face as he reaches past her to collect his tray of overflowing drinks.
"Thor, son of Odin, of Asgard." he offered simply before nodding back the way he'd come. "Come, drink and trade war stories with us…?" He paused, clearly waiting for her name in exchange for his.
Her eyes narrowed a little more, even as the smirk that pulled at her lips deepened. "Vers. Starforce."
He clapped her on the shoulder, caring not at all when the plate of drinks balanced on his other hand wobbled and spilled. "Drink with us, Vers of Starforce. Trade tales of valor and victory. I know little of your people; you are far from home."
Vers' smirk broke into a full grin, and she stood, sweeping her own drink from the bar as she did. Minn-Erva was never going to be happy no matter what unfolded here, but that was no reason for her to be similarly miserable. Besides, perhaps she could learn something useful from the Asgardians. Vers wondered if this Thor, son of Odin was important, or if all of his kind announced themselves by ancestral lines.
Vers stopped watching the door for her superior's return after one of the other Asgardians, a tall woman, pressed another drink into her hand with a grin, her own glass raised in salute. By the time the huge, red-headed warrior laughingly challenged Thor to a contest of strength, Vers had more or less accepted that neither their Skrull mark nor her reticent co-worker were going to make another appearance any time soon. (She had also shared two more drinks with the dark-haired, sharp-eyed Lady Sif, the two of them finding an easy, unspoken camaraderie Vers had often wished she felt with her fellows in the Starforce.)
Volstagg - that was the name of the burly redhead - gave a cry of dismay as substantial as the rest of him as Thor brought his wrist to the table with clearly little effort and a laugh that rose above the din of the room. Sif slammed her empty flagon to the table and pushed herself to her feet. "Stop being polite, Thor, ask the Kree to game." Her bright eyes danced with mirth and liquor as she grinned at Vers, who knew a moment's sadness that their paths would likely never cross again. She drained her own cup as she stood, dragging her forearm across her mouth as she locked eyes with Thor. (Though not before allowing her eyes to wander across the expanse of his muscular arms. The better to size him up for the game, of course.)
"How about it, Ace?" Vers clapped her hands, sparks flying from her palms as she rubbed them together eagerly, crossing the table to sit across from Thor, whose hand waited for hers. His grin was wide, and grew wider - she wished her usual companions grinned half this much, and took his hand, starting a little at a spark of electricity that zapped between them as she did.
"Sorry," Thor shrugged, settling in his seat a little, grin never faltering.
Vers raised an eyebrow. "What did you say your rank was, again?" She didn't take her eyes off him as they squared up over the table, excitement at the sport building in her chest as Volstagg started to count them in.
"God of Thunder," the big man reminded her casually before the countdown ended and the game began. She could have sworn the blue of his eyes just then glowed unnatural bright, but she blinked and it was gone.
It was not over as quickly as the other contests had been. Vers put up a mighty struggle, her fist glowing in prismatic tongues of multicolored light that danced like flame over their intertwined fingers. Sif let out a whoop, and Vers grit her teeth, pushing harder. Thor was grinning, she noticed as they locked eyes, looking truly thrilled at the apparently unprecedented difficulty he was having at beating her, the impressive muscles of his arm standing in sharp relief under his skin. Not that Vers was looking.
Someone— Vers suspected the animated warrior Fandral, but didn't look to check— began a rhythmic clap as the gathered Asgardians crowded round the contest, but Vers could feel herself slipping under the relentless force of Thor's strength. Her teeth grit harder as she pushed, and for the first time in moments she felt Thor's arm give the tiniest bit of ground. But then the photon inhibitor awoke, sending an unpleasant jolt down her neck and through her arms. That was all it took, that momentary distraction, before her wrist was brought to the table with a crash that rang through the suddenly quiet bar.
Cheers erupted all around— for both of them– and Sif pressed a fresh flask of the tavern's drink into Vers' defeated hand as she clapped her on the shoulder. "Would that you were more often in taverns at the same time as us," she laughed. "Thor could stand to come this close to losing far more often."
Of all the Asgardians, Thor was the only one that was quiet. He'd frowned as Vers' wrist hit the table, and though his expression had softened in the moments since, his blue gaze still held accusation as their eyes met. "You cheated." He was obviously disappointed.
"What?" Vers laughed, incredulous. "You won!"
Thor narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly, scrutinizing the woman sitting across the table with a keen eye. "Yes, easily. You are much stronger than that."
Vers was taken aback, her eyebrows raising as she straightened in her seat. Taking a pull from her mug, she considered the man across from her before taking another drink. She really ought to stop drinking the cups presented to her. The Asgardians didn't seem to mind a little inebriation on the job (if indeed they were on the job, it was hard to tell), but Starforce generally and Minn-Erva in particular certainly did. But, the beer-adjacent beverage was cool and refreshing, and it was a welcome distraction from how wrong-footed his outrage had made her feel. Her hand raised to her neck, fingers tracing over the cool metal of the inhibitor. She resented it, most of the time. Training wheels , a disembodied male voice played in her mind like a memory. She didn't know what training wheels were, but she knew it was a good description for the disc. It held her back, she felt. Nobody else agreed with her.
She thought Thor of Asgard might. Blue eyes caught the movement, and his brows drew together when he saw the disc beneath her fingers - it had been hidden by her hair, and Vers withdrew her hand in such a way to let the same happen again. When she looked up at Thor from her drink, his surprisingly intelligent gaze hadn't left her. "You are stronger than that," he said, his words as much question as statement. For someone who seemed by all accounts to be very accustomed to winning, he didn't seem bothered by the thought. Indeed, it seemed it was the very idea that he may not have truly earned this victory that had him ill at ease.
Vers toyed with the cup, turning it in her palms. "I need to learn control." She shrugged, her brows echoing the movement of her shoulders. "My superior says it's not safe for anyone to remove it."
Thor looked incredulous as he leaned in, the better to speak to her over the renewed din of the room. "Limiting power is no way to learn to control that power."
There was that hint of light in his eyes, again. Vers' mouth pressed into a lopsided line, her brows drawing together at the same time. "I think the Kree Starforce knows how to train its warriors." She watched him as he reached for something at his belt, eyes widening as his lifting a large war hammer was accompanied by the darkening of the skies outside. The pressure in the room changed, and her ears popped.
"Maybe so," he said, and Vers recalled what he'd said his rank among the Asgardians was. God of Thunder . She glanced outside, to where the skies were suddenly boiling with cloud, then back to him. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. "Or perhaps they seek to tame what they cannot control."
Vers held his gaze for a long moment, her face as carefully expressionless as she knew how to make it. Remember your training, Yon-Rogg's voice came to her unbidden. Trust your training, for your head and heart are ruled by fickle, unreliable emotion. Asgardians were enemies of the empire, and now this one was talking of insurrection. Vers studied Thor's calm blue eyes as she held his gaze, thought of his easy laugh and how he'd been delighted by her strength. He certainly seemed like he would know something of powers beyond the physical in a way no Kree she could remember did. Powers like hers. She swallowed. She was forgetting her training. It didn't matter that it felt so right; who was she to think she knew better than all of Hala?
Drinking with the Asgardians was one thing, but this— this conversation– was too far. Vers narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at Thor, this self-proclaimed god, then lifted her drink to her lips to drain the last of it. "No," she said simply, placing the glass against the rough-hewn wood of the table. "I trust the wisdom of the Supreme Intelligence." She had to.
There's a flicker of something– surprise or disappointment– that chases across Thor's features before he shrugs and drains his own drink (which had been placed by his hand, full to overflowing, only moments ago). "Very well." Someone shouted his name behind them, and Thor glanced over his shoulder, turning back to her still wearing a wide grin not meant for her. Vers wished that it was for only half a second; more proof it was right to trust her training and not her head. "Well met, Vers of the Kree Starforce, and well played. I fear we will not meet again." He extended his hand to her and she took it, his calloused palm huge and warm around hers. "Perhaps in the halls of Valhalla, many years from now." He winked, and she smiled despite herself. "Then, or sooner if fortune smiles upon me, I would have a fair contest of strength with you."
"Sure thing, Thor of Asgard." She was not thinking about the size of his hand, her eyes were not on the flexing muscles of his forearm nor the mirth that lit his eyes even now. Her thoughts were absolutely not of his offer to remove the inhibitor, nor of the unspoken suggestion that he would– what? Help her master the powers given to her by the Supreme Intelligence? Nonsense. These Asgardians were dangerous, reckless, without discipline. Fun. Open. Alive. His voice interrupted her warring thoughts.
"Thor, son of Odin ," he grinned as though he was unable to prevent himself from voicing the correction and only sorry for the fact in jest, "God of Thunder."
"Of course you are, Big Guy." She smirked despite herself, and finally turned her back to the band of warriors to return to her post.