Author's Note: Welcome to my very first Guardians fic and my first fic in... 2+ years! Obligatory spoiler warning for the second movie and also for some semi-recent comics. There was a character introduced in both the comics and the animated series who I instantly fell in love with, but due to the changes the movies made to Peter's parentage, I sadly doubt she'll appear in the MCU. I intend to remedy that in fanfics!

Moving the Stars

By: Silver Spider

The first thing Peter did, after the funeral fireworks were over, was listen to all the songs on the Zune straight through. He didn't bother to lock the door to his quarters, but everyone knew better than to bother him. Except Groot, but that was alright. The little guy was a good companion and probably the only other being on the ship who enjoyed music as much as he did. The two of them spent hours listening to it, and slowly, ever so slowly, Peter felt the tightness in his chest give a little and the haze of grief retreat for a time.

The second thing he did, once his head was clearer, was backup all the music onto the Milano's main hard drive. He couldn't believe he'd never thought to do that before, considering how much punishment his Walkman had taken over the years, but better late than never. Said Walkman had been destroyed by Ego, but audiophile that he was, Peter knew every artist, every song down to the specific version, that was now missing from his collection. He'd make it a personal mission to recover them later as soon as the opportunity came.

It was while running the backups of the Zune that he stumbled on something that didn't look like it belonged. Almost all of the space on the device was taken up by music files and a handful of music videos that he had nearly deleted on the first watch-through - seriously, what was wrong with people's tastes on Terra these days? - but a single folder caught his attention because it didn't look like any of the other system files.

Oh yeah, and it was labeled 'For Quill.'

Peter cocked his head, staring at the screen. Despite what many thought or the image he sometimes propagated, he was not stupid. Little bottles labeled 'Drink me' should be given a wide berth. Certainly both Gamora and Rocket would probably advise him to open it in an isolated system instead of on the Milano's main hard drive, if he had to open it at all. What had Kraglin said? That Yondu had picked up the Zune in a junk shop for him a while back. Whatever beef he'd had with some of the Ravagers, Peter highly doubted that any them had enough interest or foresight to infect the device. More likely than not, it hadn't left Yondu's position until his death which meant that the contents of the folder were probably from him.

"What do you think, buddy?" he asked the small tree perched on the console at his right hand.

"I am Groot," the child gave an emphatic nod, then extended his twig-like finger and pressed a button on the keyboard, opening the folder.

"Okay, but if we blow up, I'm blaming you," Peter warned him, but his eyes quickly turned back to the screen.

There were two small files in the folder, a text and a video, judging by the formats and size. Peter clicked on the video first and wished he'd braced himself somehow. His breath caught as Yondu's blue face filled the screen. The man looked the same as Peter remembered him, face scarred and weathered, which he supposed meant that the recording couldn't have been too old. The fin that adorned his head was the large prototype, so Peter guessed it might have been made at some point on their flight to Ego's planet.

"Boy..." Yondu rasped from the screen without preamble.

"Please don't let this be one of those 'If you're watching this, I'm dead'," Peter muttered sarcastically to himself.

"...if you got your hands on this, and I'm still' kickin', put it back where you found it, and don't let me catch you goin' through my shit ever again."

"Close enough," Peter rolled his eyes. "And I never went through your crap! Well, maybe that one time…"

"If I did bite the big one and Kraglin gave this to you, well… that's a damn shame. Hope I went out fightin'. Blaze of glory an' all that."

"You did, old man."

He knew the futility of talking to a screen, but somehow, despite the stinging in his eyes, Peter felt better. 'Blaze of glory' may not have been quite the description, but as far as anyone, especially he, was concerned, Yondu had died a hero.

"Probably you know all about Ego by now," the recording went on. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't know what he did to all those other kids 'till the last one, but that's no excuse. I should'a told ya years ago, but I figure if I had, you would'a just rushed off and gotten yourself killed. Best way to get you to do something 's always to tell ya not to."

Star-Lord snorted. That was fair.

"Anyway, hope you're still alive, Quill. Take a look at the other file, do with it what you like. Probably too late for most of 'em, but...well, do with it what you like," the image repeated, red eyes staring into some point beyond the camera before looking back at him. "Peter…"

He blinked, refocusing as well. Yondu had almost never called him by his given name. It has always been either 'Quill' or 'boy', occasionally 'son' when the captain was in a particularly good mood. To hear his first name was… jarring.

"I ain't good at this sentimental stuff," the Centurion admitted, "but I'm glad we didn't hand ya over to Ego like we was s'pposed to. Or eat 'ya," he added with a smirk. "Wasn't really gonna do that."

"No shit, asshole."

Reflexively, Peter swiped a fist over his eyes. Ever helpful, Groot produced a leaf and offered it to him. On the screen, the older man took a deep breath and nodded to himself, as if resigned that he couldn't keep the recording going forever. The human wondered if even then Yondu suspected he wasn't going to make it off Ego alive.

"Make me proud, guardian." Peter was surprised that the last word was spoken without mockery. "Give the galaxy hell."

The video reached the end, and for a moment the blue face lingered, paused on the screen. Peter stared at it for a moment, until he felt Groot poke him gently in the arm.

"I'm fine," he told the tree-child and closed the recording. "Let's see about this other thing the old man left."

It turned out to be a single page, a short list that Peter frowned at for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. Names… planets… dates. Holy shit! These are… He scrolled down to almost the very bottom, and his own name stared back at him. Peter Jason Quill, Terra, and a date that translated to 1988. He scanned through the rest of the list, feeling bile rise in his throat.

These are Ego's kids, his siblings, at least the ones Yondu had been hired to bring to the Celestial. Peter hadn't seen the cavern with the bones in the guts of the planet, but he knew this was a drop in the bucket. He was grateful he hasn't eaten much since the funeral, otherwise the contents of his stomach were likely to be decorating the console by now.

Suddenly he was angry, furious! Do with it what you like, the blue man had said on the recording. What the hell was he supposed to do? Ego and Yondu were both dead. There was no one to punish, no one to rage at on behalf of so many dead kids. With a grunt of disgust and frustration, Peter shoved his chair back from the console and stomped to the other side of his quarters to sink heavily onto the bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. What a nightmare…

He didn't bother to look up until the covers rustled a little and a cool, smooth vine snaked around his wrist. Groot was trying to get his attention, and Peter supposed he should respond. It wasn't the little guy's fault he had cosmic sized daddy issues. A generic reassurance that he was fine was on the tip of his tongue, but then he realized that the sapling wasn't even looking at him. He was looking and pointing back at the consol, tapping the screen instantly with an extended vine.

"I am Groot. I am Groot."

Peter stared at the screen. It took a moment for his vision to clear, but suddenly he knew exactly why Groot was trying to get him to pay attention. The list of children was sorted by dates. Dates of abduction, Peter guessed, if his own was anything to go buy. There was only one name below his own and the date was empty.

Probably too late for most of 'em, Yondu had said.

'Most'... not 'all'.

He didn't tell the rest of the team at first. They had been through enough, and embarking on another quest that involved his own personal angst didn't seem fair. What he did - after convincing Groot not to tell either - was contract Kraglin. Yondu's former second was with another group of Ravagers, helping with a scavenging mission to some ancient planet, an arrangement that the man admitted felt temporary at best without his former captain.

"What do you need, Quill?" he asked as soon as the call was established, voice casual.

"Hey, Kraglin. Question: ever heard of a place called Spartax?"

"Spartax, the planet, or Spartax, the empire?"

"Err… either? Both?"

"Well, Spartax, the planet, is the capital of Spartax, the empire, out in the Shi'ar galaxy," the Ravager rubbed his chin. "Never been there myself, but the cap'n had least once that I recall."

"Do you happen to remember when?"

"Little while after that whole mess on Xandar."

"How'd he seem when he came back?"

"Fine, I recon," the other man shrugged. "Didn't say nothin' 'bout it. Why d'you ask?"

"I think," Peter considered just how much to share, "I might need to go there. Anything I need to know?"

Kraglin shrugged again. "Not the craziest people in the universe, but I wouldn't go lookin' for trouble with their royals. They got a hefty fleet and I ain't sure sure they've ever heard of you guys all the way out there. They're allied with Novas, so you might be able to get 'em to put in a good word."

That was good to know, but Peter wasn't thrilled with the idea of going through the bureaucratic channels. Aside from the fact that he was still a pirate at heart, if they they came to Spartax publicizing their connection to the Nova Corps and inevitably got in some kind of trouble like they always did... Peter might have been a part-time outlaw, but he wasn't thrilled with the idea of starting in intergalactic war.

He thanked Kraglin, cut the com, and leaned back in his chair, thinking. What did he have? A planet, a name, and the hope that at least when Yondu was there a short while back, the person he would be looking for was still alive. Not much to go on, Peter had to admit, but he'd gone after targets on less in his Ravager days. All he needed to do was a little research and some time.

Unfortunately what he hadn't counted on was that the M-ship was much smaller than he was used to from his solo-Ravager runs. Not that he was one to talk, but now he was constantly tripping over everything: weapons, electronics, various plant matter, and finally people. Part of being captain involved anything and everything to keep the ship flying, which often times meant keeping Rocket from blowing holes in it, keeping Groot from getting into places he didn't belong, and Drax from crashing the ship in his attempts at improving his piloting skills.

Then there was Gamora.

Where the rest of the crew took the extensive time spent in his quarters as a need to grieve in private, Gamora had given him exactly three days before she planted herself in his doorway, arms crossed under her chest. The look she gave him was a strange mixture of sympathy and determination. Peter quickly shut off his screen and put on his most innocent expression, which of course only made him look more suspicious.

"I'm fine." The phrase had become almost a reflex over the last few days. "Totally, completely, 100% a-okay."

Gamora said nothing, only raised a brow. He cringed slightly.

"I swear."

"Peter…"

"Okay, look." He was out of his seat and striding to her, irrationally hoping that the few inches he had on her would give him an ounce of extra persuasion. "Remember that show we talked about where one person is willing to open up and the other is not because they're a jerk? I'm not being a jerk right now, I promise."

"I never thought you were." A green palm came to rest over his heart. "I think you're still grieving, and it's a bad place to do… whatever it is you're obviously plotting."

Peter let out a shallow breath and closed his eyes momentarily because, damn, she knew him all-too well. He covered her hand with his, their foreheads pressed together, and despite always being a tactile person, Peter was surprised just how much comfort he drew from the simple contact.

"I'll tell you," he promised. "When there's something, you'll be the first to know, but right now I'm not even sure if there's anything to talk about. Trust me?"

The green skinned woman signed, still a bit frustrated, but nodded. "You'll tell me before you decide to do anything foolish?"

He laughed softly and wrapped his arms around her. "Cross my heart."

A week later he had the opportunity to make good on that promise, but still reluctant to involve the rest of the crew, Peter went with the most brilliant pretext for a cross-galactic trip he could come up with. In his defense, he thought 'shore leave' would be a much easier sell. Instead he was met with a look of confusion from Drax, and the Terran just knew that his crewmate was going to ask where is the shore and where is it going.

"Vacation!" Quill declared, arms spread wide to emphasize his point. "Resorts, bars, casinos…"

"They got all that on Knowhere." Rocket made a face, clearly underwhelmed. "Why go 'cross the whole freakin' galaxy?"

"To... try somewhere new?"

It sounded pathetic even to his own ears, he admitted miserably, shoulders sagging. A first-class pilot, he may be, a great scavenger and thief. But Peter knew he was a lousy liar. His rather impressive ability to bullshit filled in for that in the best of times, and he was hoping now would be such a case. He looked at Gamora, who thus far had said nothing, eyes silently pleading for help. She held his gaze for a heartbeat then gave such a casual shrug, Peter hadn't thought it was possible for the former assassin.

"It's a change of scenery," she said and turned on her heel. The small sentient tree hopped from Drax's shoulder to hers, and the two of them headed out of the cockpit.

"Great!"

With Gamora's apparent blessing for the excursion, Rocket and Drax didn't offer any further protests. Peter swung himself into the main pilot chair and punch in the series of jumps. Most of it could be done on autopilot, but they had to be spaced out due to the number of them. Overall the trip should take a standard day or so, which was plenty of time to make the various calls he needed and make good on a promise. He briefly entertained the idea of asking Groot to produce some flowers but decided against it.

Even without the flowers, his behavior was still obviously out of the norm because when he showed up at Gamora's quarters the next day just as they were about to make the last jump to Spartax, she gave him an odd look.

"Did you… shave?"

"And showered." Peter grinned from ear to ear.

"And your hair is no longer a disaster. Impressive. What's the occasion?"

"We're going to a dance recital."

He was hoping she would look at least a little surprised at such a seemingly random statement, but apparently Gamora had come to know him very well because she barely blinked. "Am I to assume this is payment for finding out whatever it is you're up to on this planet?"

"It's part of what I'm up to." His attempts to sound sly faltered, face growing serious. "Please, Gamora? I don't want to go alone."

He wondered what must have been going through her head when, an hour later, they were planetside. Certainly Peter never thought he'd be sitting in the back of a school auditorium in a tight uncomfortable chair surrounded by what he assumed to be doting parents. Most were nearly indistinguishable from humans but as Spartax was the capital of the empire that bore its name, Peter spotted at least six or seven other species in the audience, so he and Gamora had been largely ignored.

A few moments later the lights were dimmed, and several small children in leotards began to make their way onto the stage. Even in the darkened room, he could see Gamora's brow inching upwards.

"Alright, I give up," she admitted. "What are we doing here? This doesn't seem like your type of dancing. So unless you left a love-child on Spartax..."

"No!" It took everything he had not to choke on that laugh, though admittedly given his history and where he'd dragged them, it was not a completely unreasonable assumption. "Just give it a minute."

Okay, so Gamora had been right. Ballet was definitely not his thing. His eyes were well on their way to glazing over at the stream of children Peter was having trouble distinguishing. He was beginning to fear he'd made a mistake, but when he saw what he was here for, he knew her instantly and his breath caught. Gamora must have noticed his reaction because, she leaned in and whispered.

"Peter, who is that child?"

On the stage, the little girl in the pink tutu was the very picture of grace. Her motions fluid, hair done up in two little puffs without a single curl out of place. Peter watched, entranced, as she leapt into the air and landed effortlessly on the toes of one foot. If he'd tried that at her age or any other, the Star-Lord thought wryly, his face would have a very fast meeting with the ground, no question. He couldn't even imagine how she did that series of spins without losing her balance, but thirty seconds later, the little girl was all smiles, wide brown eyes shining with the reflected lights of the auditorium, arms outstretched to accept her standing ovation from the audience.

Following everyone's lead, Peter and Gamora stood as well.

"That's Victoria," he said quietly, answering her earlier question without taking his eyes off the little girl on the stage. "My baby sister."

Out of the corner of his vision, Peter saw his companion's face soften all at once in understanding and her hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"She's beautiful."

"Yeah." He tore his eyes away just long enough to turn an enormous grin her way. "Guess I only got the second best dance moves in the family, huh?"

Author's End Note: If you're not familiar with Victoria, I highly suggest you check out the Legendary Star-Lord comics and Guardians animated series where she appears. She and Peter have a much smaller age gap than in this story, but I did borrow a lot of elements from her appearances in both, including the fact that she was a ballerina when she was a little girl :) (see Legendary Star-Lord #12)

Also note to the readers of my Changeling Sequence series. Sadly I doubt I'll be completing that any time soon, if ever. Family tragedy that has kept me from writing for a while makes it very painful to write that particular fic. I won't say more except to say I'm very sorry and thank you to all the positive feedback I've gotten on that series throughout the years.