"Let's review the plan once more," Natasha said, earning an eye roll from Quinlan.
"Again?" Anakin asked with mild irritation.
"I want to ensure there are no gaps," Natasha replied. "This is Steve we're rescuing. The fewer variables, the better."
"I fear that may be wishful thinking," T'Challa observed.
Delta Squad murmured their amusement, and their Jedi companions joined in.
"Some of us will pose as spectators and infiltrate the arena undetected. Others will handle security, since they'll undoubtedly attempt to prevent Steve's liberation."
"Anything else?" Scott asked.
"We maintain comm contact to report any complications," Anakin said with a shrug.
"Flawless strategy, Skywalker," Aayla said dryly.
"We can't all blend in as civilians," Boss, Delta Squad's leader, pointed out. "You're forgetting that most of us are recognizable now."
"We could move faster," Fixer suggested.
"No, first we need to disable Steve's restraint collar," Quinlan said, producing another image of the captured Captain and indicating his neck. "Khaleen warned me that unless we obtain the control device or key to remove this from Steve, his captors can execute him instantly."
"Perfect," Sam said flatly.
The pilot leaned back in his seat and gazed through the ship's viewport at the familiar sight of hyperspace, endless streams of blue and white against infinite darkness.
When he'd first experienced hyperspace travel, it had been disorienting.
Over time, he'd grown accustomed to the sight, though it occasionally still felt surreal.
He spent a moment observing his fellow passengers.
Boss and Quinlan occupied the cockpit, both monitoring their approach, while Sam sat directly behind them.
T'Challa was conversing with Anakin, the Wakandan prince describing his homeland's technological marvels compared to the rest of Earth.
Scott appeared to be bonding with Fixer and Scorch, the trio examining various equipment, from infiltration tools to sophisticated explosives.
Natasha was studying intelligence on their destination with Sev, Delta Squad's sniper, who was methodically field-stripping his rifle and reassembling it.
Finally, there was Aayla Secura, seated in the rear, elbows on knees, staring intently at an object in the cargo area.
Sam followed her gaze and exhaled with determination.
She was focused on the shield they'd brought, Steve's vibranium disc, now cleaned of all scorch marks and battle damage.
"Almost there, Cap," Sam whispered to himself. "Almost there."
"How much longer?" the Twi'lek Jedi asked anxiously, breaking Sam from his thoughts.
"You asked that ten minutes ago, and thirty minutes before that," Quinlan said teasingly.
"Sorry," Aayla said quietly, lowering her head as her cheeks flushed slightly.
"Steve isn't someone who dies easily, Aayla," Natasha said reassuringly.
"After all, he survived being frozen in ice for nearly seventy years," T'Challa added.
"What happened?" Fixer asked with surprise.
"Long story," Scott replied.
The demolitions expert shrugged. "We've got time, "
"Five minutes out," Boss called from the cockpit. "So make it the abbreviated version."
"Or save it for the return trip," Scott suggested.
"Fair enough," Scorch said with mock seriousness. "After we rescue Captain America."
Five minutes later, the ship dropped from hyperspace and their transport descended toward the planet's surface.
After landing in the spaceport, they were met by Quinlan's contact, Khaleen Hentz, who greeted the Kiffu Jedi more warmly than expected. Quinlan briefly pressed his forehead against hers in the traditional Kiffu greeting.
Khaleen then acknowledged the rest of Delta Squad in her characteristically friendly manner.
"Aayla," Khaleen said warmly, and the Twi'lek nodded respectfully.
She then turned to the others.
"Ah, Anakin Skywalker," Khaleen said approvingly. "The legendary hero."
"Guilty as charged," Anakin said with a cocky grin.
Khaleen smiled slightly before addressing the four remaining heroes.
"You must be the Avengers."
"Some of us," Scott said with a shrug.
"And you're Vos's contact," Natasha stated.
"Correct," Khaleen nodded. "We should move quickly. Today's matches are about to begin."
The team divided as planned upon reaching their destination. Each member received a concealing brown cloak, much to the others' amusement as they watched the commandos grumble about how their bulky armor made movement awkward.
The group split into three teams total.
Sam, Sev, T'Challa, and Anakin formed one unit, while Khaleen, Aayla, Vos, and Scorch comprised another.
Fixer, Scott, and Natasha descended into the arena's lower levels to locate Steve's holding area and determine how to disable his restraint collar.
Upon reaching the arena, they found it packed with bloodthirsty spectators.
"Someone knows how to draw a crowd," Anakin observed.
As he spoke, the arena erupted in deafening cheers, and both infiltration teams immediately spotted their rescue target.
"Well, that was convenient," Scott said with amazement.
"Natasha, Steve's in the arena," Anakin immediately reported. "He's fighting now."
"Damn," Natasha muttered over comms. "Can you see the collar Khaleen mentioned?"
"Affirmative," Sev replied, his trained sniper's eyes immediately locating the device around the super-soldier's neck.
"What's he fighting?" Scott asked.
The answer came in the form of a massive creature with a bulbous body, spindly limbs, razor-sharp claws, and a flat face featuring two small eyes and a mouth filled with jagged teeth.
"What the hell is that thing?" Sam asked in shock.
"Rancor," Anakin said grimly. "Dangerous predator."
"Oh, wonderful," Vos muttered, watching as Cap engaged the beast, which swung its massive arms at the super-soldier.
Steve rolled backward, barely raising his hands in time to catch the creature's enormous clawed appendages.
This rancor was the third he'd faced since becoming their star "gladiator."
His uniform hadn't been cleaned in weeks, making the colors increasingly dingy. The Avengers logo on his right shoulder was torn away, damage from his first rancor encounter.
He now sported a full beard, and his long hair was slicked back with grease and sweat he couldn't properly wash away.