PART II

This place is the worst.

Loki leaped to the left to avoid the great hunk of metal plummeting from the wormhole above. This was a hazard the locals knew to always be aware of, but he was still readjusting to life in the middle of the universe's trash pit. Still, he was getting there. Like any other inhabitant of Sakaar, he examined the universe's new offering on the off-chance it had value. It didn't. The twisted shape seemed to be a canard off a fighter ship; Loki wasn't so desperate as to become a metal scrapper.

He climbed further up the mound until he reached its summit and could look down at the cluster of buildings huddled in the mound's shadow. Frankly, to call them buildings was generous. These were just ships parts and bits of Xandarian plaster clobbered together without proper tools. The end product was a hideous and chaotic mishmash, much like the people in and around this quasi-legal camp.

The Grandmaster liked to claim that no one left his haven for lost and broken things. This couldn't have been further from the truth. A scrap heap that was allowed to build up exponentially was dangerous; it was only a matter of time until it collapsed on itself. Ships bearing the more valuable items — semi-functional bits of technology, expensive construction materials and breathing things — left Sakaar every day. It wasn't legal by the Grandmaster's laws, but as long as the activities took place outside the bounds of his city and he skimmed off the profits, he was happy to allow the smugglers to operate unconstrained.

Loki watched the miserable wretches the smugglers readied for their next transport and cringed. He hadn't dared to go straight to the Sanctuary. One cannot claim to search for someone and then go exactly where they were. Nor did Loki want to draw Thanos' attention to Asgard. The decision to go to Sakaar had been sensible, but it left him with a problem. He was Systems away from where he needed to be.

The smugglers were the obvious solution. No one had ever bothered to ask him how he had first encountered Thanos. Well, in truth, it hadn't been his choice. Loki had let go, he had fallen and he had landed among the endless junk piles of Sakaar. He had managed to survive for three months on this planet before he made a bet with the wrong person and ended up in the hands of smugglers gathering a ship for the Sanctuary. Thanos' crusade had always been short on manpower.

I doubt he ever appreciated the irony in that.

'So that's the easiest way,' Loki muttered under his breath. 'Retreat the path – the smugglers, the ship, the slave-pits of the Sanctuary. I strayed from the script once on Asgard and everything unravelled. This is the safest path.'

Yet, after days of trying to persuade himself that this was the way forward, the thought continued to repulse him. Those had been some of the most painful and miserable days of his life. Masochism didn't appeal. Besides, he wanted to change the future, not to relive it a second time. He would have to stray from the familiar path eventually. So why not now?

The answer was clear there. The more he changed earlier on, the less he could rely on his memories of the future.

And yet.

Screams tore through the air. A smuggler emerged from one of the buildings, holding a whip in one hand and in the other, dragging a small figure by the hair. A child, Loki realised when the people milling around backed away. He shuffled back. He still possessed a sense of self-preservation; he wasn't going anywhere near the smugglers.

He moved quickly and to his relief, the screams were soon beyond his earshot. Careful to avoid falling debris and places where the junk had accumulated enough to cause landslides, he made his way back to the city. Thus far he had avoided the glitz and glamour of the Grandmaster's citadel, staying instead in the crowded lower sectors of the city. People caught between the lawless junkyards and the Grandmaster's whims tried to make the best of their lives here. Once Loki armed himself with a blaster as long as his arm and accumulated a bit of dust on his shoes, he blended in well enough.

Of course, he couldn't settle down and open up his own junk shop down here, he still needed to get to Thanos. There was only one person on this dump of a planet he trusted to help him out.

It took him two days, a black eye and a fair amount of hard cash, but he found Scrapper 142 in a half-empty tavern on the city's outskirts. As Loki had anticipated, there was a near empty bottle next to her while she sat at a table, tinkering with some gadget. Loki swept past her and approached the bar. An alcoholic wants little to do with a person who doesn't drink.

'What've you got that's good?' Loki asked the barman.

All three of the barman's heads glared at him, then motioned towards the beer taps and the stock of liquors on the cabinet behind him. Sighing, Loki pointed to the beer that had the brightest logo. Everything in here looked like it was local brew. No matter what he chose, it was bound to be vile.

Once he held the slightly chipped ceramic mug in his hand, Loki approached Brunnhilde. 'May I?'

She glanced to the empty tables on either side of them. 'No. Fuck off.'

'I'm not here to hit on you,' Loki replied. He pulled over a chair from one of the other tables and set down opposite Brunnhilde. 'You have a solid reputation on Sakaar. I want to hire you.'

'You must be the weirdo who's been asking after me. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I'm not interested. Now fuck off.'

Loki bit down a laugh. This was going exactly as well as he thought it would go.

'Look, Scrapper 142 or whatever your actual name is, I see you are committed to your alcoholism and I respect that. What I'm proposing is a few weeks of light work that will set you up for a year-long full-time alcohol binge. You can even stock up on supplies on the way back.'

Brunnhilde took a swig from her bottle. 'Where do you want to go?'

'Sanctuary. It's an asteroid belt in the Chitauri system.'

'You're a lunatic.'

'No, just bored and curious.' Loki sipped at his beer and regretted that decision immediately. Beer shouldn't taste like it had powdered charcoal stirred through it. 'I came to Sakaar because I was bored and curious. This planet is supposed to be something special. Well, I've seen the Contest of Champions, I've been to the parties and the markets. Yeah, I'm not... I mean, you can drink and party and engage in viciousness in many places in the universe. But have you heard the stories about the Sanctuary?'

Brunnhilde leaned in. 'I have. It's the home of the Mad Titan. He draws fanatics from every direction and everywhere he goes, devastation follows. Why would you want to go there?'

'It sounds like a bit of fun for me. And there is a promise of good compensation for you.'

'You got here somehow, right? You look like the tourist type. Use whichever ship you came here in.'

'Not possible, unfortunately. My ship is rather worse for wear after a misunderstanding with a Kronan.'

'Get another one then.'

Loki scraped at the scuff mark on his mug. 'I am. Your ship just happens to be the one I want.'

'That's too bad. I happen to have other plans for it.'

'Doesn't the slave trade get boring?' Loki winced sympathetically. 'I'm sorry, I believe it's impolitic to call it that around here. Doesn't gathering up suitable fighters for the arena become dull? Or maybe sometimes, when you find yourself on the edge of sobriety, your conscience has something to say about your chosen profession?'

Brunnhilde grabbed Loki's collar and pulled him toward her, sending his beer flying off the table. 'Get the fuck out of here. Or you'll spend the rest of the night picking out glass out of what'll remain of your smug face.' She pushed Loki back into his seat. 'You're an idiot if you are thinking of joining the Mad Titan is —'

'No one said anything about joining him,' Loki cut in, 'but fine, if you're not even interested in discussing price, I'll find someone else.'

'Good,' Brunnhilde shrugged.

'Happy drinking,' Loki replied as he rose from his seat.

That's a pity. Time for Plan C.

Twelve hours later, Loki was piloting Brunnhilde's ship through a wormhole and feeling pleased with himself. Things had worked out as he had planned them to for a change. Humming out one of the old Midgardian songs Wong had liked to play back at the Sanctum, he adjusted the thrusters and took a swig of the whisky he had pilfered from the Valkyrie's supplies.

Leather creaked.

Speaking of.

He locked the ship controls and turned his chair around just as Brunnhilde climbed to her feet. Still somewhat unsteady, she reached for the ship's wall. Loki grinned as reality caught up to her. First, her eyes narrowed and she glared at Loki. Then she caught sight of the rushing nothing out the ship's windows. Brunnhilde straightened up.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' she asked.

Loki offered her his most charming smile in reply. 'I wanted you to come with me. You didn't want to. So I snuck into your apartment, waited until you passed out drunk, gave you a little something to make sure you stayed asleep and shot us off on your ship. I figure since it's your thing to take people against their will, you won't mind.'

She reached behind her shoulder, only to realise her sword wasn't in the scabbard on her back. Nor did she have on her any other weapon she habitually carried. Loki had been thorough.

'To be serious for a moment.' Loki held up his hands in an effort to prevent the Valkyrie from launching on top of him, armed or not. 'I lied to you back on Sakaar. You drink in some unsavoury places, I couldn't trust the company around us.'

'You'd better have the best story ever told or —'

'Some terrible and profoundly humiliating violence is sure to befall me in short order. Got it.'

Making sure to always have a wall or a control panel within her arm's reach, Brunnhilde moved towards Loki. 'What's your story then?'

'Odin of Asgard is concerned about the Mad Titan's plans. He sent me to find out what I can.'

'So you're here on the king's business. Aha,' Brunnhilde replied. 'Props to you. I still don't see why I should care or why you need my ship.'

'You know, if you want your identity to remain hidden, you should make more effort to hide your very distinct tattoos. I would've expected better from a Valkyrie.'

Brunnhilde had the self-control not to flinch or look down to the tattoo on her arm. 'I'm not at Odin's beck and call any longer, haven't been for a very long time. So long, I'm surprised he hasn't karked it yet.'

'Father is getting on in years, I admit. He's had quite the ride though. You might remember he had a mid-life crisis a while back, gave up on the conquering and so on. He's remarried since, had a son with the new wife and adopted a frost giant baby.'

'Which one are you?'

'The blue one.' Loki shrugged. 'Magic conceals all manner of sins.'

'Yeah, I didn't think he'd send one of his own blood to do this kind of shit job.'

'Things are complicated between Odin and me, it was never any different. Nor does it alter the facts — the Titan is a vicious megalomaniac, who has already destroyed entire civilisations. Now there are rumours he may be something more dangerous.'

'I'm sure you'll make your good old dad proud soon enough. Now, don't make me wrestle for the controls. Stop off on the next planet we pass.'

Loki made a quick check of the performance indicators on the ship's control panels, then threw Brunnhilde the bottle he'd been drinking out of earlier. 'Here, it'll take the edge off that headache.'

She fumbled her catch, but didn't waste any time in pulling off the cap and taking a swig. Loki leapt out of the pilot's chair. He pushed her against the cabin's back wall, pressing a knife against the Valkyrie's throat.

As he had expected, her first move was to swing the bottle towards his head. Loki caught her arm and kneed her in the stomach. The next moment he was on the floor, the Valkyrie's fist flying towards his face.

He blocked her and flipped them both over.

'How long can you go on right now?' he said in a pleasant tone. 'I'm more sober than you are and you're still being affected by the tranquilliser I gave you earlier.'

'What the fuck do you want with me?' Brunnhilde pushed Loki off her.

'A back-up. Only an imbecile walks into an enemy nest alone. I wager a former Valkyrie has the right calibre of skill.'

Brunnhilde pulled herself back to her feet and nudged the shards from the now smashed whisky bottle over to the side. 'Find someone else. I'm not interested.'

Loki forced himself between Brunnhilde and the pilot's chair.

'I know my father was an arse,' he said, 'he still is sometimes. I know drinking is better than reliving the past, but every once in a while you need to consider the future too. Don't tell me you haven't heard what the Titan has been up to so far. Now consider what his next steps may be. We all have only the one universe to share.'

'I don't care about the universe. It's been here long before me and it'll be here way after I'm gone.'

Loki had to make a concerted effort to remain calm. 'I think if you venture outside the boundaries of your self-imposed exile, you might be surprised. But, meanwhile, how about this proposal? You work for me five weeks, after that we will return to Sakaar and I'll hand you one million credits to spend as you like.'

'Two million,' Brunnhilde replied.

'One and a half.'

She threw her head back and chuckled. 'Damn. That's a lot of money.'