Lines | Guardians of the Galaxy |

Chapter Eighteen

Why had he done that?

She couldn't wrap her brain around the intent behind that gesture. She simply could not understand it. It had been kind. Generous.

Avenna pulled the silken scarf over her head and held tight to it, allowing her fingers to swoop over its smooth, perfect surface. She began to follow the rest of the group, looking up from the scarf and sprinting towards them.

Rocket wouldn't meet her eyes. She was struggling to hide her smile as she respected that and didn't force him to look at her. The fox felt strangely light, as though she could jump ten feet high with no problem.

They left the hangar and went out into the streets of the city again, Quill pulling out a device that provided a map of the planet they were on.

"Not as good as Google Earth, but it'll do," he muttered as he screwed his face up to examine the streets listed in the device.

"Where is the bank?" Drax asked, looking over his shoulder.

"It's a block or two away from here. Oh, and Avenna, I kind of expect that you'll be doing the most work here with these guys." He turned his gaze to look down at the fox, who nods up at him.

"Yeah, I figured," she grinned, whiskers twitching. "I got this. I just have to get into the system where they were and then I can track 'em."

"Where did you learn to hack and... whatever else you do?" Gamora asked as they crossed one of the streets.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, I don't really know," Avenna lied. "A lot of what I know came from things that I picked up along the way."

This was partially true. A lot of what she knew came from experience, but the majority was taught to her by the people who made her. She was meant to be their weapon, but unfortunately, you can't really give a free-thinking mind to something you're trying to control without it biting back. Literally, in her case.

Gamora just grunted in response.

"Here," Quill said. He stopped in front of a large building with clear glass doors and pushed them open.

Drax, the gentleman he was, held the doors open for them. When he let go of the handle, it was bent slightly.

"This is pathetic workmanship," he complained when Avenna raised one eyebrow at the damage. She rolled her eyes and followed Quill deeper into the bank.

"Oh, oh! You must be our helpers!" Another one of the short people shuffled out from behind the desk, his arms held wide. "Thank you for coming, thank you!"

"It's what we're here for. What do you got to offer about them?" Quill nodded down at the short man whose skin was hued red and orange.

"Information? Well, they're not from this planet, we don't think, otherwise we would have been able to detect their devices sooner. Our security would have recognized familiar—"

"They could have just gotten their devices off-planet," Avenna interrupted. "Or used their own protective code barriers to hide who they are."

"That is possible," the man admitted. When she had spoken, there was a sudden flash across his face. "But either way, we don't recognize the technology here. Um, you are not the leader, though, right? This man is, correct?" He nods to Quill, and Avenna's face darkens.

Before Quill can answer this—he would totally say yes, he's the leader—she snaps at the banker.

"No, he ain't the leader of nothin,'" she growled, already on the offensive. "And even so, I'm gonna get this over with. Gimmie access to one of your bank-issued computers or servers and I'll find them."