Band on the Run

“Welcome to Kraptilo,” Rocket said as they stepped off the ramp. “Population, idiots.”

Groot woke up just then, stretching. Rocket carried him in an improvised sling. Groot blinked at the sunshine and began to hum. “Alright, alright, we’re on a world of trees, contain yourself,” Rocket said to him.

“Where’s your contact?” Peter asked, closing the ramp behind them.

“I don’t see him,” Gamora spoke.

“I see no one,” Drax said. “Even at the other spaceships. Empty.” He reached for his knives.

“Let’s go have a look around before we start with the stabbing,” Peter said.

“Maybe he’s inside.”

The depot, such as it was, consisted of a lone perma-crete building that sported a roof covered haphazardly with solar batteries.

“It seems unlikely they failed to see us land,” Drax noted.

“Maybe he’s just shy,” Peter said. “Not everyone has your sparkling personality.”

“There is no part of me that sparkles,” Drax said, heading toward the building. Peter gestured to Gamora, who caught up to Drax. He and Rocket followed a few paces back.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, Quill. What’s next, hauling garbage?”

“Hey, this was Gamora’s lead,” Peter said. “I’m with you. This whole thing seems weird.”

Rocket shrugged. “It beats delivering diapers or whatever we did on the last run.”

“Medical supplies for Galadorians,” Peter reminded him. “And all you had to do was tinker with the ship, sleep, and water Groot.”

“That’s all I’ve done on this trip too,” Rocket said. “Oh yeah, and I tweaked your Image Builder some more.” Rocket pulled it out of his bag, aiming it ahead of them. “Maybe we can check out what this place looked like before it was a ruin. Though I’m bettin’ it was just more trees.” He flicked it on, aiming it ahead of them; a cluster of Shi’ar appeared, appearing surprisingly realistic. All of them except Rocket stopped in their tracks; he continued walking, coming right up to a Shi’ar who ignored him. “How’s it hangin’, holo bird guy?”

“That’s a little more than a tweaking,” Peter noted.

“Turn that thing off,” Gamora said, “before someone sees it.”

Rocket turned to her. “Ain’t nobody here to see it but us.” Before she could continue, he switched the device off, returning it to his bag. Gamora and Drax moved past him, entering the depot.

“Don’t get too attached to that,” Peter told him. “It’s mine.” He entered the depot.

“For now,” Rocket muttered, following him.

If possible, the interior of the depot proved even less impressive than the outside. A few local star maps hung along the far wall; the only window in the place was so covered in grime that it barely glowed a dim yellow, and coils of wires hung down from the ceiling, leads from the solar batteries into a collection unit that groaned and vibrated. The air-conditioning worked well; it was almost chilly inside, especially after the warmth of the sunny day. Gamora and Drax approached the lone inhabitant of the depot, a portly old Shi’ar whose thinning hair-feathers had turned almost completely white. Like most male Shi’ar he had cultivated a beard, which hung down to a point several inches past his chin. He smiled pleasantly and said, “Greetings, offworlders. How may Heffaltar be of service?”

“Where is everybody?” Peter asked. Gamora shot him a look.

“I can’t possibly answer where everybody is,” Heffaltar replied. “Could you be a tad more specific, son?”

“We’re here to meet a Shi’ar named Pessar,” Gamora provided. “He was instructed to meet us here.”

Heffaltar frowned. “I don’t know anyone named Pessar.”

“He could be running late,” Gamora said to Peter.

“If he runs much later, he can take his chances with the Kree,” Peter said.

“Kree?” Heffaltar asked. “What’s this about Kree?”

“There is a Kree war fleet on its way here,” Drax informed him.

Heffaltar raised an eyebrow. “The Kree are a long way from here,” he said.

“Everything is a long way from here. That’s why I took the job. I don’t much care for being busy.”

“Ya don’t say,” Rocket said.

“He was with a group of Shi’ar who arrived here a few days ago, maybe as long as a week,” Gamora said.

Heffaltar held out both hands. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

“Call him,” Peter suggested. “See where he is.” Gamora stepped over toward the star charts for some privacy. Rocket wandered over to inspect the shuddering solar collector.

Drax turned to Peter. “Should I intimidate this man to extract information?”

Peter shook his head. “I don't think this guy has any information to extract. Feels kinda like we woke him up.”

Gamora came over to Peter and Drax. “He’s on his way,” she said. “He said he had a little trouble obtaining transport.”

“Seems to be a running theme with these guys,” Peter said. “This Kalenn sounds like the least competent gunrunner I’ve ever heard of.”

Gamora nodded. “He’s usually more reliable. The incipient war must be making him careless.”

“I hope he’s not this disorganized when it comes time to pay up,” Peter said.

Rocket returned to the group.

“Put it back,” Gamora said.

“What?” Rocket asked.

“Whatever you stole,” she told him.

Rocket laughed. “They don't have anything worth stealing here. That collector’s gotta be about fifty, sixty years old. It’s barely gathering enough juice to keep the air on in here. I’d be afraid to touch that thing, let alone steal something off it. It’s unstable enough as it is.”

“Let’s wait outside,” Drax suggested.

“I don't like the smell in here either,” Peter agreed.

“Not just that,” Drax said. “If something unexpected occurs, we’ll be trapped

in here without even the ability to look outside. This would be a perfect place to trap someone.”

The four of them exchanged glances and headed outside; the only thing awaiting them was the Milano.

Drax said, “Just because it would be a perfect place does not mean anyone else thought of it. We appear to be safe.”

Groot shifted in his sling and mumbled something.

“Yeah, I wish I could sleep through this too. Kinda feels like I already am,” Rocket said.

Peter looked at Gamora.

“I guess we wait,” she said.

*

Close to a half-hour later they spotted an older-model hovercraft making its way down the road, headed toward the depot. They had retreated to the Milano with the thinking that if this were some kind of trap, they would be best prepared to deal with it – or escape – from aboard the ship.

Gamora’s portable screen bleeped, and she answered it.

“Where are you?” Pessar asked. “I’m here, but I don’t see you.”

“When you weren’t there we went back aboard the ship,” Gamora said.

“We’re coming out.”

“We are?” Rocket asked. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Peter checked his scanners. “There’s only one person aboard.”

Gamora frowned. “Let’s go down and see what he wants.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Peter asked.

“Let’s go down and see what he wants,” Gamora repeated.

“Perhaps this Pessar does not understand the nature of a rescue mission,” Drax ventured.

“You guys go ahead,” Rocket said. “I’ll be right there.”

“You are not fetching your weapon for one man,” Gamora said.

“The hell I’m not,” Rocket tossed over his shoulder.

Gamora looked at Peter, who grinned. “At least we’ll look prepared.”

“We’ll look threatening,” Gamora spoke.

“These guys are on the run from the Kree, maybe,” Peter said. “They’ll be reassured if we look threatening.”

The trio headed down the ramp; Rocket, still carrying Groot, caught up with them, and the five of them watched as Pessar emerged from the battered hovercraft. He was lean, even for a Shi’ar, but his hair-feathers had been immaculately groomed, an impressive blue-black sheen rising up above his head. He came over to them, moving slowly, almost nonchalantly.

“Lady Gamora,” he greeted her. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Pessar,” she spoke. “I was led to believe there would be others.”

"There are,” Pessar admitted.

“So why didn't you bring them?” Peter asked.

“This is...?” Pessar asked.

“The captain of the ship that’s going to fly you out of here,” Peter said. “People call me Star-lord.”

“Star-lord,” Pessar spoke. “Some of them were injured, from the crash. Travel would prove taxing for them.”

“You know they’re going to have to travel to actually leave the planet, right?” Peter asked.

Pessar gestured to his vehicle. “This conveyance does not exactly provide the smoothest of rides.”

“Neither does ours,” Drax spoke.

Gamora folded her arms. “You have our payment?”

“It’s in scrip,” Pessar said. “Back at the compound.”

“Forget the wounded, why didn’t you bring that?” Rocket asked.

Pessar glanced around, though clearly no one else was present. “Kelenn had to lie to you in his initial transmission. It’s not a group of his men who are stranded here.”

“I told you something smelled funny,” Rocket spoke. Groot nodded his agreement.

“Our ship was on the way back to Shi’ar space when we were ambushed by— “

“Is this gonna take long?” Peter interrupted. Gamora glared at him. “I’m only asking because you could tell us the story on the way.”

“Where?” Drax asked.

“The scrip is at the compound and the people are at the compound so why don't we hop on board the Milano, fly there, and I can tractor beam everyone aboard, you can pay us and we can get you the hell out of here,” Peter suggested.

Pessar sighed. “I wish it were that easy.”

“So do I,” Rocket agreed.

“As I was trying to tell you, we encountered a Kree patrol. We destroyed the craft but it damaged our ship. We were forced to crash-land, and a number of the crew were injured, but his Excellency is fine.”

“His Excellency?” Gamora asked.

“On the way,” Peter suggested.

“His Excellency will not allow himself to be tractor-beamed anywhere. He does not trust such devices,” Pessar spoke.

“Does he trust the Kree not to come back and finish him off?” Peter asked.

Gamora scowled at him. “What? If I had a bunch of blue meanies on my ass, I wouldn't be so picky about how I got out of a tight spot.”

“His Excellency refuses to leave the compound without armed escort,” Pessar said.

“Which we are,” Drax spoke.

Quicker than a blink Gamora’s blade was at Pessar’s throat, slicing off his beard. “I came here in good faith and you’ve done nothing but play games with me. I may have new companions, but don’t think I’ve gone soft. If you attempt to betray us in any way I will sever your head before you can breathe.”

“His Excellency is understandably cautious,” Pessar said.

“Yeah? So are we,” Rocket snapped.

“Let’s go,” Peter said. “Let’s go get this guy.”

“You wish us to ride in that dilapidated conveyance?” Drax asked. Peter nodded. “That’s right.”

“Quill, are you stupid? They might as well have painted ‘TRAP’ all over that floating piece of crap,” Rocket said.

“Maybe,” Peter admitted, “but we know there are no Kree here – yet, anyway. If we haul ass and get to this Excellency guy, we can get him to come with us and get off this rock and collect our money.”

Rocket gave him a look.

“Hey, who’s better at convincing people to do stupid shit than I am?” Peter asked.

Gamora withdrew her knife an inch. “Get in. The back, Pessar. I’ll be driving.”

“Shotgun,” Rocket called.

“Dammit,” Peter swore.

*

The hovercraft’s engines whined in protest as Gamora drove it at a speed it hadn’t attempted in quite some time, if ever.

“So,” Peter said, “which excellency are we talking about here? Not that I know much about Shi’ar politics, I’m just curious.”

Pessar glanced at Gamora, then back at Peter. “Azorek,” he answered.

“Crown Prince Azorek?” Gamora asked, keeping her eyes on their path, which skewed closer to a trail than an actual road.

Pessar nodded. “The Majestar’s eldest son.”

“They’re gettin’ off easy at a hundred thousand,” Rocket said. “Quill, you gotta ask for more.”

“We’re in for five hundred thousand,” Peter said.

“Four,” Pessar argued.

Peter leaned forward. “I could ask for a billion and you’d say yes because your crown prince doesn't have any other options. And there might not be any Kree in the neighborhood now, but you can bet they’ll be here soon enough to investigate the loss of a scout craft. So he has time, but not a lot of it. I’m only bumping up the price twenty per-cent because I’m a nice guy. And so Groot gets a share.”

Groot mumbled something high-pitched. Rocket told him, “You’ve spent most of the time asleep in a sling. Quill’s doing you a solid. You’re welcome.”

“Fine,” Pessar said. “Half a million units. And His Excellency’s gratitude, which should count for something.”

“Should but doesn't,” Rocket said.

“You cannot eat gratitude,” Drax offered.

Peter only barely refrained from chuckling. “So what was Azorek doing all the way out here in the boonies?”

“You will refer to him as His Excellency,” Pessar said.

“I’ll refer to him any damn way I please until I get paid,” Peter shot back.

“So answer my question. What was someone so important doing in the ass end of nowhere?”

“The Kree are coming. Their scouting patrols along the border have increased tenfold in the last few months, ever since their peace treaty with the Xandarian Empire. Many along the outer edges of Shi’ar space are nervous. Some have evacuated to more central worlds, but the Majestar is afraid if there is an exodus, we will find our defenses against the Kree lacking. So he dispatched his son to rally people, to show how seriously he takes the matter.”

“This Azorek sounds like a man of honor,” Drax said.

“He is much beloved by the people,” Pessar said.

Peter leaned toward the front of the craft. “Is he?” he asked Gamora.

She nodded. “The Majestar enjoys popularity, but the Shi’ar people have embraced his son. He is by all accounts a noble warrior.”

“What? You’ve never met him?” Peter asked.

Gamora grinned. “It’s not just Kalenn. I don’t have an interest in Shi’ar that way.”

“Glad to hear it,” Peter said, shifting back in his seat. “So how many people we talking here? How many wounded? The Milano isn't that big of a ship.”

“Including His Excellency, nine,” Pessar answered. “But you can leave some of his retinue if space is at a premium.”

“I hear that,” Rocket spoke.

Peter said, “We can fit that many. Everybody’s coming.”

“Just make sure we have room for that huge chest of scrip that they’re –“ Rocket stopped. “There is no scrip, is there?”

Pessar shrugged. “There is some – His Excellency never travels without adequate resources -- but your full payment will have to made at an inner world, where he can gain access to more of his fortune.”

Rocket opened his mouth to complain but Peter held up a hand. “I’m sure we can work something out with the crown prince,” he stated.

“It would be regrettable if we couldn’t,” Drax spoke, shooting a dark look at Pessar.

“So how did you end up in the retinue of the crown prince?” Gamora asked from the front. “You work for a weapons dealer.”

“Do you think His Excellency toured the frontier with merely kind words and his good looks?” Pessar asked.

“He was delivering weapons,” Drax realized.

“I like his style,” Peter said.

Suddenly the hovercraft lurched to one side, throwing everyone to the floor.

“Gamora?” Peter yelled.

“The road is blocked,” she called back. “Is everyone okay?”

Peter glanced around. “No serious injuries,” he said.

Pessar leapt up and kicked open the rear door, darting out of the craft.

“But I think there are about to be,” Peter added.

“That cannot be a good omen,” Drax said, drawing his knives.

“What happened?” Gamora asked.

“Pessar took off,” Peter said, drawing his guns.

“Now are you glad I went back for my rifle?” Rocket said, shifting the sling so that Groot rode on his back.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Peter growled.

“Take a number,” Gamora said.

*

Peter poked his head out the back of the hovercraft and was rewarded with a wave of gunfire bouncing off the metal door. “Something tells me this wasn’t an accident.”

“Idiots,” Rocket spoke. “They hit us going the wrong way. They were supposed to wait until we had the high and mighty and then spring the trap.” He primed his rifle. “Look at it this way, Quill, at least we’re dealing with amateurs.” He lay down, inching forward on the floor until just the tip of his rifle poked out. Rocket sighted by his scope; he could see no one.

“Okay, so you’re amateurs with camouflage,” he groused, switching to a thermal setting. Still he saw no one.

“Aw, crap, Quill,” he spoke.

Peter frowned, peering into the woods. “What?”

“No heat signatures,” Rocket said. “Cold blooded.”

“Badoon?” Peter asked.

“Well I can't see any, but that’s usually who you hire if you’re in the business for lizard killers,” Rocket said. “Not amateurs. Just the opposite.”

“Yet they still committed the error of attacking us on the way to the crown prince,” Drax noted. “So they cannot be that smart.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, thought the better of it, then crawled forward to the driver’s seat. “Gamora, do you –“ He stopped when he didn't see her.

“Anybody seen Gamora?” he asked.

“Again with this pointless interrogative,” Drax spoke.

“Little busy,” Rocket spat, firing his rifle. A tree fell over, but if any Badoon were hit, none of them made any noise. Groot tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a grenade, which Rocket loaded and fired.

“Wait wait wait!” Peter said, too late; the grenade blasted apart two trees and set some brush aflame. This time they heard screaming.

“Hold it with the explosives,” Peter said.

“You got a better idea?” Rocket asked.

“Gamora’s out there,” Peter said. “Probably taking them out one by one. So let’s not blow her up.”

Rocket shook his head at Groot, who held another grenade. Groot looked up at Peter scowling at him and offered a sheepish grin.

“I will check the other side of the road to see if we can escape there and gain some cover,” Drax said, leaping out of the hovercraft and covering the half-dozen yards to the trees far faster than either of them expected.

“I hope there’s more of them up there,” Rocket said, “so that way the two green people can take care of business while you, me, and Groot shoot the shit.”

“Badoon aren’t this sloppy,” Peter said. “There’s no way they would make a mistake this dumb to hit us on the way in.”

“Maybe some idiot had an itchy trigger-finger,” Rocket said.

“Maybe there is no crown prince,” Peter said.

“Don’t say that,” Rocket said. “Even if it makes sense, don’t say that. If there’s no crown prince bird boy, then there’s no scrip, which means we’re out here getting shot at for no good reason.”

“Somebody thinks there’s a good reason,” Peter said.

Drax came barreling back into the hovercraft. “They left that side of the road open. We could escape into cover.”

“What about Gamora?” Peter asked.

“She is one of the deadliest assassins in the galaxy,” Drax responded. “If the Badoon knew what was good for them, they would yield to her. Also, Rocket might not be the only one armed with explosives, and we are rather confined in here.”

They followed Drax out of the hovercraft with all due haste, heading toward the forest; the Badoon opened fire, but they were either caught by surprise at the trio’s mad dash or remained skittish of the explosion Rocket had caused, or a combination of the two. Their shots went wide, splintering the trees but missing the sprinting warriors. After several yards Drax stopped, Peter and Rocket pulling up short behind him.

“The compound is that way,” Drax gestured.

“How do you know?” Peter asked.

“That’s where the road leads,” Drax responded.

“What does that matter?” Rocket asked. “There’s no reason to go there. This whole thing was a trap to get us out here in the middle of nowhere so that a bunch of idiot Badoon could shoot us.”

“The compound would offer cover and possibly supplies,” Drax argued.

“We’ll go,” Peter said. “Lead on, Drax.”

“Quill,” Rocket said, “you don't know that’s a better defensive position.”

“And we don’t know how many Badoon are out here,” Peter said. “They saw us run over here, so some of them are bound to follow. We keep moving, we keep distance between us.” He took off after Drax.

“What about the broad? How’s she gonna find us?” Rocket asked.

Peter pulled his portable screen out of his pocket. “Gamora, I know you can’t answer this because you’re a little preoccupied at the moment killing Badoon, and by the way thank you, but the rest of us are headed for the compound in the hope that there actually is a crown prince. See you there.”

“So smooth,” Rocket teased him, running behind him. “No wonder all the ladies swoon for you.”

“Anything happens to her, I’m gonna kill Pessar myself,” Peter spoke.

“I’d kill him anyway,” Rocket said, “whether she’s okay or not.”

*

Gamora considered appropriating the dead Badoon’s weapon, some sort of automatic projectile rifle, but they were heavy and loud and had been built for Badoon; she could fit two of her fingers on the trigger and the sight didn't line up for her more-closely-set eyes. She laid it down atop the corpse and kept moving. The forest provided excellent cover, and the Badoon had, true to their mentality of honoring individual prowess above all, spread out. This made them easier to hunt; she had already dispatched three, and listened for more gunfire, when ahead of her perhaps twenty yards two trees blew up. Rocket, you moron, stop using grenades, she willed silently, finding another Badoon well-hidden amongst the brush. Like her, they had green skin, but theirs was darker, tougher, and scalier. As long as I stay upwind of them I should be fine.

The Badoon opened up a fusillade, and she looked through the trees to see her companions exit the hovercraft and scatter into the trees on the opposite side of the road. They are all resourceful and should be able to get themselves out of trouble. She crept up to the next Badoon and stabbed him at the base of the neck, her sword slicing through his throat, both silencing and killing him. She bent down next to the corpse, looking for another target, when a Badoon further down the line let out a loud cry, and the group of mercenaries stormed the hovercraft. Gamora stayed where she was; there were far more than she had expected, maybe three dozen, and they were bound to notice, after inspecting the empty hovercraft, that some of their number were missing. She stepped back deeper into the forest, listening, but she heard nothing other than the guttural grunts of frustration from the Badoon. It would be helpful if my friends would move toward the compound rather than set up an ambush, she thought, though the Badoon are all clustered close together by the hovercraft. She moved back to the most recent corpse she had made and searched it for grenades, but the soldier had carried none. She considered the gun, but Badoon weapons didn’t fire fast enough to kill the entire crowd before they would be upon her, and she would give away her greatest asset, the fact that they didn't know she was there. She retraced her steps back and felt a vibration at her hip. She withdrew her screen from her pocket – she had muted it on her way out of the vehicle – and smiled inside when she saw Peter’s features appear. She could lipread well enough to make out thank you and crown prince and compound; she replaced the screen and disappeared into the jungle, moving parallel to the road, heading for the compound.

The Badoon must be heading for the compound, she reasoned as she moved. That’s the only logical reason why they would attack us on the way there.Badoon mercenaries are not that stupid. Not the ones I’ve encountered, anyway. She assumed the Kree would hire mercenaries to cover their tracks, but wouldn't they want credit for killing the crown prince? Much of this didn't add up, unless there is no crown prince, but then why would Pessar and by extension Kalenn set up a trap for me? I’ve been a good customer and even sent business his way. There’s no profit in killing me.

Of course my units came from Thanos, she thought as she passed the spot where she had killed the first Badoon she had encountered. But there’s no chance he’s behind this. If Thanos cared enough about me to want me dead, I’d be dead already. I doubt he spares me a second thought, which is fine by me. She quickened her pace, darting between the trees as a black blur, moving as quietly as she could, forsaking a little stealth for speed. Quicker than she expected she spotted the compound; they would have reached it in the hovercraft in another few minutes.

Six squat buildings of much the same design of the depot sat in a cluster, two rows of three, all featuring solar collectors of a much more recent vintage than the depot. A tall metal or wooden fence, she couldn't be sure, encircled the buildings, featuring a gate that currently stood closed. She spotted a few video devices; they’d be seen approaching the buildings, there would be no way around that, but so would the Badoon. If anything Pessar had said was on the level, she and the others, once they got here, should be safe once they got inside.

Gamora moved up to the edge of the trees, maybe five yards from the fence, and debated what to do next. She could rush the fence and jump it, but that would likely startle anyone within, and she lacked Peter’s way with words to talk her way out of such a situation. Before she could decide on the best course of action, Peter, Drax, and Rocket emerged from the trees on the other side of the road. “Hey, Crown Prince Azorek, your rescue party is here.”

“If yer even friggin’ real,” Rocket added.

Gamora grinned and emerged from the trees to join them.

Peter smiled at her appearance.

“I told you she would be unharmed,” Drax spoke.

“You were worried about me?” Gamora asked Peter.

He shrugged. “They were just Badoon, you know. No challenge for you. Hey, we got away safe, and you’re way more bad-ass than we are.”

“Speak for yourself, humie,” Rocket said. “Hey come on, Prince, open up. If we wanted inside we’d’ve already blown a hole in your little gate.”

“Not to mention the score of Badoon warriors who are no doubt heading this way,” Drax added.

“Make that two score,” Gamora spoke. “Though I didn't spot Pessar among them.”

“He’s probably halfway back to the depot by now,” Peter said. He looked up at one of the video surveillance units and waved.

“There is no place he can run that I will not find him and make him pay for what he did,” Gamora said.

“I’m glad I’m on your good side,” Peter said.

The gate opened slowly to reveal three Shi’ar wearing red uniforms pointing rifles at them.

“Three?” Rocket asked. “You sent three guys? You’ve obviously never heard of us.”

“The Crown Prince will see you now,” one of the guards spoke.

“I’m so glad he’s real,” Rocket muttered.

“I’d close that gate pretty quick,” Peter said as they entered. “There’s a whole bunch of unhappy Badoon behind us headed this way.”

“Why do you think the Crown Prince wants to see you?” the guard answered. “Come.”

Peter turned to Gamora. “Man, if that was all just a job audition back there I’m gonna be really pissed.”

*

Crown Prince Azorek stood taller than any of them save Drax; he wore his hair-feathers shorn low, a collection of short blue-black spikes that framed what could only generously be called a plain face. Like most Shi’ar he wore a beard, but again cut close, stubbly almost. He wore the same uniform as his men, no special adornment, a long slender Shi’ar pistol at his hip. “It is my honor to meet you,” he spoke, his voice higher-pitched than his barrel-chested physique promised. “Kalenn said you were among the best.” He leaned back against the desk that had been wedged in between two beds along the back wall.

“Kalenn may have much to answer for,” Gamora spoke. “We were ambushed on the way here by Badoon mercenaries. It seems unlikely they were working for the Kree.”

“You didn't know anything about them, did you?” Peter asked.

Azorek regarded him. “That’s an odd question.”

“Badoon are too greedy and lazy to work for free,” Peter said. “Somebody paid rather handsomely for a couple dozen of them to fly all the way out here to make our lives more difficult. If it wasn’t the Kree—“

“We have no way to ascertain for certain that it wasn’t the Kree,” Drax said. Peter looked at him. “Assuming for the moment it wasn’t the Kree, who –“

“Why should we assume it was not the Kree?” Drax asked. “They have motive and resources. If Kalenn was foolish enough to betray Gamora, they could easily be his paymasters.”

“Kalenn is someone I trust,” Azorek said. “He gave – not sold, but gave – me the weapons to distribute to the populace here, and on other border worlds.”

“What populace? The fat old guy back at the depot?” Rocket asked.

Azorek looked down at the raccoon. “It seems now that I was led out here specifically to be trapped in a remote location so that I could be killed. But Kalenn is a loyalist, he is not behind this.”

“Pessar?” Peter asked Gamora.

“I would not have thought him capable of arranging something like this,” she said. “I may have underestimated him.”

“Maybe the scaly crew hit us because we were on the way to help his magnificence here,” Rocket said. He looked up at Azorek. “Please tell us you’re rich. We’ve been promised a lot of units to get you off this stinkhole.”

“That may be the least of your worries now,” Azorek said.

“Getting paid is never the least of my worries,” Rocket said.

Azorek grinned. “I will honor any agreement you have made, so long as you get me out of here alive.” He looked at Peter. “We were aware that someone was out in the woods, but not who or what. You say Badoon; I would almost rather Kree.” He waved a hand. “So be it. What is your plan for getting me out of here?”

“They have the road blocked with the damaged hovercraft,” Drax said. “A race back to our ship might not be possible.”

“I’d rather not have to shoot our way past a crew of Badoon warriors,” Azorek spoke.

“We wouldn’t have to if you had let me fire that incendiary grenade at the hovercraft while we were running away through the trees,” Rocket aimed at Peter. Groot held up and shook the grenade in question.

“I told you, it was too risky,” Peter said. “If it didn't work, I didn't want to be in a footrace with a bunch of guys who blend into the jungle so well that we can't see them, even on thermal vision.” He shook his head. “Sorry about this,” he said to Azorek. “We’re usually a little more organized.”

“No we’re not,” Rocket said. “Hey magnificence, you got anything to drink here?”

“There’s some water in the stores shed,” Azorek spoke. “Help yourselves.” Rocket clambered up the desk and popped out the rear window.

“We have a ship back at the depot that can carry you and your men,” Gamora told him. “We just have to get to it.”

“Perhaps if we wait until dark, we would have a better chance of catching them by surprise, and our smaller numbers would be less of a deficit,” Drax suggested.

“Badoon can see in the dark,” Gamora said. “And only you and I can, and thermal view won’t work.”

“We can’t just hole up here,” Peter said. “That fence is wood. It won’t hold the Badoon for a minute.”

Azorek folded his arms. “I am open to suggestion. If we thought we could just sprint to the depot, we already would have.”

“One way or another, we’re gonna have to take care of those Badoon,” Peter said. “Let me go check with Rocket, see what kind of explosives he’s carrying.” He looked at Azorek. “We’ll get you out of here, you have my word.”

“I expect nothing less from the saviors of Xandar,” he said, grinning.

“That is never gonna get old,” Peter murmured under his breath as he exited the building.

*

“Watch where you’re walkin’!” Rocket snapped at Peter as he entered the stores building.

Peter stopped short. “What the hell?”

Rocket had sliced one of the large jugs of water in half and converted it to a pool for Groot, who sat chest deep in it, humming to himself. Rocket had found a cup and held it for Groot whenever he wanted a drink.

“This is why you asked for something to drink?”

“I was thirsty,” Rocket answered. “I just took advantage of the fact that they have like fifty barrels here to give Groot some. I told you, at this stage, he needs a lot of water.” Rocket held the cup up, and Groot nodded, drinking deep. “But I’m bettin’ that’s not why you chased me down.”

Peter sat on one of the large jugs. “What kind of weaponry did you bring?”

“Besides my rifle?” Rocket asked.

“Explosives,” Peter clarified.

“I got a couple of grenades, one or two of ‘em fiery,” he said. “Didn’t have time to grab much else. I got more on the ship, but we ain’t there.”

“If we can get the Badoon clustered, could you take them out?”

“Not with one shot,” Rocket said. “If I could shoot all the grenades rapid-fire, maybe, but they could scatter between shots.” Rocket shrugged. “Anyway they’re not just gonna line up for us all nice and neat.”

“What if they did?” Peter asked.

“If you could keep ‘em there, yeah, but you can’t,” Rocket said. He turned to look at Peter. “What are you thinkin’?”

“I have an idea,” Peter said. “It’s not a great idea, yet, so I’m not gonna tell you and have you bitch about it. I gotta go talk to Drax and Gamora first. I’ll be back.”

After he had left, Rocket said to Groot, “He means well, he really does.”

“I am Groot,” Groot squeaked, his voice high as a whistle.

“You’re stayin’ right where you are,” Rocket said. “If you were a little bigger maybe, but you’re too small. You’re sittin’ this one out.”

“I am Groot,” Groot argued.

“I know you want to help,” Rocket said. “But these Badoon mean business, and you’re too little yet to take one of their shots. This ain’t that tight a spot. Believe me, buddy, if I thought it was, I’d let you help.”

Groot sighed. “I am Groot.”

“Course I’m right,” Rocket said. “I’m always right.” He held up the cup for Groot, who once again drank deep. “Gotta tell you, I don't know why this magnificence guy didn't just call for help when his ship crashed.” Rocket furrowed his brow and removed his screen from his pocket. He called Peter.

“Yo, Quill, question. Why didn't king feather-head there just call for help? For that matter, why don’t we?”

“Hold on,” Peter said. “I’ll ask him.”

Rocket could hear voices on the other end; Groot sank under water and came back up, sputtering, shaking his head.

“He says there’s something interfering with calls off-planet. Local calls are fine, but you can’t call anywhere off world.”

“And you believe that?” Rocket asked.

“I had Gamora try. He’s right. Can't get through anywhere but here. Looks like we’re the cavalry, Rocket.”

“But she contacted Pessar from orbit,” Rocket pointed out.

“Which Pessar would allow is he was the one scrambling the signals,” Peter said.

“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask,” Rocket said.

Peter put away his screen. “So Pessar and the Badoon did think this through.”

“I think your plan could work,” Drax said. “But I suggest we execute it after

sundown. I know the Badoon have an advantage in darkness, but your ruse would work better without sunlight to interfere.”

“That’s another four hours,” Azorek said. “Do you think the Badoon will wait that long?”

“Probably not,” Peter said. He tapped his screen. “Rocket, you almost done playing bathtub with Groot?”

“Yeah,” Rocket said. “He’s done, he’s just goofing around. We’ll be there in a minute or two.” A pause. “Sounds like your idea got a little better.”

“I like to think so,” Peter said.

*

“They are approaching,” Azorek spoke, watching the feed from one of the surveillance screens. “Cautiously, perhaps, but they are approaching.” He turned to Peter. “How are your preparations coming?”

“Rocket?” Peter asked.

Rocket tapped the Image Builder. “Ready as I’m gonna be,” he said.

Peter turned back to Azorek. “Have your men take their places,” he said. He turned to the members of his team. “Everybody know what they have to do?”

Nods met him all around. “Okay then, be where you need to be.” As they began to move, Peter stepped in front of Gamora. “Except you.”

“What?” she asked.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, waiting until Drax and Rocket, who again carried Groot on his back, left the building. “I want you to be careful,” he said, his voice low.

“Your concern is touching,” she said, “but I’ll be fine. My part is far less dangerous than yours.” She slid a hand to his chest, then pulled it back. “You be careful. No heroics.”

“Gotta be heroic to pull this off,” he said, smirking. “I’ll be okay.”

“I would rather be here with you, slitting throats and taking Badoon lives,” she said.

“You say the sexiest things,” Peter told her. Despite herself, Gamora grinned. He leaned in and kissed her, briefly, just lips, and pulled back.

“What was that for?” Gamora asked.

“For luck,” he said. “And, I just wanted to kiss you. Thought we should have at the end of the date.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “I will save my kiss until after we get off this planet.”

“You don’t want to wish me luck?” he asked.

“I’m trying to provide you motivation to be careful,” she spoke.

“I don’t need extra motivation not to die,” Peter said.

Gamora frowned at him. “Fine. Have it your way.” She moved past him, toward the door.

“But I’ll take that kiss all the same when we make it back to the Milano,” he said. She grinned over her shoulder as she left the building.

“God, this had better work,” he said to himself. He checked his guns and headed out into the compound.

Azorek and his men stood to one side, Rocket and Drax to the other. Gamora had already hopped the tall fence and taken off into the jungle. Peter nodded to Azorek and then to Rocket. “You know the plan,” Peter said. “Everybody get ready and—“

“Star-lord!” a voice called out. “I know you can see me and hear me.”

Peter darted back into the building with the surveillance screen; it was Pessar who spoke. I guess he didn't bolt off for the depot like we thought.

“We have you trapped and surrounded,” he said. “I have no interest in you or any of your crew. Send Azorek out and we will spare you. You and your Guardians can walk right out of here.”

Peter came back outside. “Can we get a ride back to the ship?” he asked. Azorek glared at him; Peter gestured with both palms facing toward the ground, though he had no idea if Shi’ar understood that meant relax, I got this.

“What?” Pessar asked.

“If we give up Azorek like you asked, will you give us a ride back to the ship? It’s a long way and we’re all kinda tired, we really don’t feel like walking all the way back to the depot.”

“We’re on foot, Star-lord,” Pessar spoke. “We can’t give you a ride back to your ship.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow. “No deal then. Guess you’ll just have to come in here and get him.”

“We have you outnumbered by a wide margin,” Pessar said. “You will be killed.”

“I don’t think you have us outnumbered,” Peter said. “I can see your forces, but you can’t see mine.”

Pessar growled. “Just hand him over!”

“You’re not really good at this, are you, Pessar?” Peter asked.

One of the Badoon shimmered suddenly, revealing a much smaller, slimmer physique. “No, he’s not,” the slender one spoke, ramming a sword between Pessar’s shoulder blades, piercing his heart, killing him. The Badoon troops snickered and nodded; a few of them chuckled.

“Listen up, Quill,” the killer said. “I could not care less about some Shi’ar prince or the Kree or any of this. All I want is my sister’s head on a pike.”
Peter looked at Drax, who shrugged, and Rocket, who did likewise.

“She’s gotta be talking about Gamora,” he said in a low voice. 

Rocket said, “I don’t see any other broads around here.”

Peter dashed back into the surveillance structure to see a bald blue woman with one hand holding a sword. He stepped back out and said, “Sorry, but you’re out of luck. We left her back on Xandar.”

The figure leapt the fence easily, landing between a startled Azorek and Peter and his crew. “I saw her at the ambush,” Nebula said, “so stop screwing around and wasting my time.”

“Look around,” Peter said. “She’s not here. We’re not hiding her. She literally is not here.”

Nebula glanced around, spotting only the Guardians and Azorek and his troops.

Peter nodded to Rocket, who slid his hand in his bag and activated the Image Builder.

Shi’ar troopers began emerging from each structure, a handful at first, but soon a few dozen had congregated. Nebula watched them.

“I wasn’t lying about the outnumbering thing,” Peter said. “We can take your Badoon troopers, lady.”

Nebula scowled. “I saw her! I saw her driving that hovercar.”

“She’s not here,” Peter said. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Okay, I totally would, but I’m not now.”

Nebula raised her sword. “Then I’ll just kill you.”

Drax stepped in front of Peter, drawing his blades. “No you won’t.”

Rocket tipped his rifle upward so it aimed at her chest. “Guess again, baldy.” Nebula held the sword aimed at Peter’s throat. “Tell Gamora this isn't over.”

“And you are...?” Peter asked.

“Her sister,” Nebula said. “She’ll know who I am.” Nebula took a step back, and, before Rocket could fire, vaulted over the fence, heading off into the jungle. Rocket looked up at Peter. “What the freakin’ hell was that?”

“I have no idea,” Peter said.

“There are still the Badoon to consider,” Drax spoke. “Though I would rather have fought that angry blue bald woman. She seemed to possess superior skill. At least superior to the Badoon.”

Peter tapped his portable screen. “Hi, it’s me. I know you don’t have time to answer this right now seeing as you’re sprinting for the ship, and please keep doing that, but when we get together again we’re going to have to have a talk about your angry sister you told me was dead who very much isn’t and seems to be really pissed off at you.” He tapped the screen.

“Not seems,” Drax added.

“I already ended the call,” Peter told him.

“I was merely making an observation,” Drax said.

“What about the Badoon?” Azorek asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter said. “Continue with the plan. Should be even easier now that they’ve had one leader killed and another disappear. Let’s go, everybody!” he called out, as the flesh-and-blood fighters took their positions and the gate swung open to reveal fifty Shi’ar warriors, fully armed.

“Listen up, you ugly Badoon, we’ve got a whole bunch of guys in here, and a bunch more coming at you through the woods. Pretty soon you’re gonna be surrounded. You’ve already lost your leader, and in another couple of minutes you’re all gonna be dead. Or, and this is a one time take-it-or-leave-it offer, you guys can throw down your guns and walk back up the road and we’ll let you go. But if anybody gets violent or makes a move, we’re gonna shoot you all, and none of you are gonna survive this.”

Peter waited as the Badoon grunted among themselves for a long moment, and then said, “Okay, Rocket, let ‘em have it.”

Rocket fired an incendiary grenade directly into the middle of the Badoon squad; it went off, injuring some of them and setting a few on fire. As the Badoon raced for the trees, the Shi’ar, Peter, and Rocket fired, taking out a few more, but at least half the squad had retreated to safety of the jungle.

“That was exactly what I didn't want to happen,” Peter griped.

“Relax, Quill,” Rocket said. “I’ll scatter them.” He fired his last incendiary into the woods to their left, setting several trees ablaze and sending the Badoon there running. The real and imaginary Shi’ar fired off into the jungle on the other side of the road, and Rocket lobbed a grenade there for good effect. “We don't have to kill ‘em all, although personally I don’t mind if we do. We just gotta stall ‘em until the broad gets back with the ship.”

Azorek moved over to Peter. “Do all your plans end with explosions?”

Peter nodded. “Usually.”

*

It took the better part of an hour to Gamora to return with the Milano; the sun had sunk below the treeline, although the day remained reasonably bright. She could not land the vessel in the compound, so she beamed the party up to the ship, one at a time as Peter had a smaller, cheaper unit, starting with Azorek and his men and bringing up Rocket last so that the illusion of the Shi’ar guards could be played out as long as possible. None of the Badoon took any potshots at the Milano, which Peter had worried about, and they were away from the planet before the sun had fully set on the compound.

Azorek thanked them for their rescue, and while he had indeed not carried much scrip with him, he had directed Peter to fly him to Binato, the closest planet with a sizeable Shi’ar population that would not only guarantee his safety but support a banking system robust enough for him to gather enough credits to pay the Guardians.

After Peter had set the course he turned to Drax, Rocket and Groot; Groot had grown large enough so that Rocket could no longer carry him, and he sat in a makeshift booster seat of Rocket’s improvising. I used to hate sitting in those, Peter thought as he considered Groot for a moment, until he realized that his Walkman sat on Groot’s lap, orange headphones nestled comfortably on his woody noggin. Groot bobbed his head back and forth, his eyes closed, smiling.

“Hey!” Peter snapped.

“What?” Rocket asked. “You said he could use it.”

Peter pointed a finger at Rocket. “Just make sure he’s careful.”

“I will,” Rocket said. “You know, we’re not all careless oafs like you, Quill,”

Rocket said. Groot opened his eyes and reached down to switch off the tape. “I am Groot?” he asked in his high voice.

“Nah, Quill’s just being irritating,” Rocket said, unstrapping Groot from the chair. “Come on, I think he wants some alone-time with the broad.” Groot followed him out of the cockpit, humming the song he had just been listening to.

Peter looked at Drax. “I do actually want some alone-time with Gamora,” he said.

“Perhaps I should stay in the cockpit and you two should adjourn to your room,” Drax said.

“Not that kind of alone-time,” Peter said.

Drax stood up, giving Peter a long gaze, and then looking at Gamora. “I would very much enjoy fighting your sister, if you don't get to her first.” He turned and left the cockpit.

“So, we’re alone,” Gamora said.

“We’re on the Milano, away from the planet,” he said.

“I’m aware of our surroundings,” she said.

“You promised me something,” he said in a low voice.

“I did,” Gamora agreed. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “There.”

Peter looked at her. “Are you kidding me? I survived a double-cross by some Shi’ar and your creepy sister and all I get is a peck on the cheek?”

“It is a kiss,” Gamora said.

“No it isn’t,” Peter argued.

Gamora nodded. “Actually, it is, but...” She leaned in and locked lips with him, kissing him fully, for a long moment, before she released him. “I’m sure that was more along the lines of what you were hoping for.”

“Well, yeah,” Peter said.

“Given that you had to deal with Nebula, I owed you at least that much,” Gamora said. “I really thought she was dead. The next time we meet, she will be.”

“I thought you had anger issues,” Peter said.

Gamora looked at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“See? Right there. That’s what I mean. You have a bit of a temper. But you’re like a calm lake next to your sister.” Peter gave her his warmest look.

“You don’t know what she went through,” Gamora spoke.

“It couldn't have been any worse than what you went through, and you turned out okay,” he said. “I mean, I know having friends has been a good influence on you, but you turned your back on Ronan and Thanos before you met us. You’d already made the choice to change your life. We’re just helping you with it, that’s all.”

Gamora looked at him. “Are you being nice, or are you buttering me up for another kiss?”

“Is there any reason it can’t be both?” he asked. She leaned in and kissed him again.

***