Notes

Although Rocket is my favourite, this is not a Rocket-centric story. The Guardians meet friends and foes across the universe, creating coalitions to solve the mystery and get their lost ones back. I tried to put in a little fun here and there. I'm stretching the canon a bit to show unexpected qualities of some of the Guardians. No sex and hardly any fluff; this should be an almost readable fanfic. :)

I introduce two OC's and two cross-over characters. Beatrix Farmer is character portrayed in the series 'Tales of Beatrix' by Taral Wayne and Steve Gallacci. It's Beatrix Farmer, not to be confused with Beatrix Potter. The second cross-over character is Muzo (I spell his name 'Muzzo' in English) from an old French comic called 'Placid et Muzo'. I just like the characters and gave them a little role. My OC's are called Sam and Susan. They will appear later, after a number of chapters.

Koolstof 2

'Koolstof 2, Small Magellanic Cloud. Gravity 1.6 G. Carbon planet. Famous for Spare Part Market, cheap ale and fuel. Avoid the tar pits.'

"What are you reading, Rocky?" Peter asked.

"I've bought this transgalactic tourist guide. Listen to what it says: accordin' to legend, you'll find diamonds as big as watermelons in the tar pits if ya dig deep enough."

"Yeah, I've overheard the locals talking about that myth. You'll probably dig up the skeletons of the idiots who tried."

With big eyes, the raccoon said, "A diamond as big as a watermelon! Ya know what that means? Ya can buy half a planet and enjoy the good life."

"You're not going for that, seriously?"

"I won't dig you up if you got stuck in a tar pit," Gamora joked.

"Like ya ever did somethin' for me, Gam."

"The hell I did! We dragged our asses to this sorry planet because you needed parts. I hope you found enough junk to blow this place to pieces," she riposted.

"Not true! We came for the cheap fuel, remember? We're low on units."

"It's a bit of both," Peter intermediated.

"You told me we had a day off. We're here to enjoy the ale," Drax said.

"I am Groot," Groot suggested.

"There ain't no trees here, who told ya that?"

"I am Groot?"

"Whaddya think they use ta make fuel?"

His buddy looked shocked.

"Jes' kiddin', jes' kiddin'," Rocket smirked.

Moving around on an oversized planet to do their shopping had rendered the Guardians weary. The mild sun was shining brightly on this slowly rotating world with days that didn't seem to end. The ale was cheap but tasty. They lost time on the giant terrace filled with simple plastic tables, outdoor chairs and rows of bars that stretched from horizon to horizon.

Peter gazed vacantly at the multicoloured crowd. He saw many humanoid and non-humanoid alien species talking in more languages than his universal translator was able to handle. They were sitting together in relative peace, drinking beverages. This was how life should be, he mused.

About ten tables ahead, his eyes spotted three humanoids with a light blue skin colour. He watched them casually. Absent-mindedly, he mumbled, "Even the Kree know this place."

Drax, who was sitting next to him, asked, "Did you say something, Peter?"

"Kree. Even the Kree visit this place."

Drax saw them immediately with his sharp eyes and confirmed, "Yes, these men are Kree."

Rocket was squabbling with Gamora. It sounded like the two of them had a disagreement, but they actually were teasing each other and had a good time. Rocket's ears involuntarily turned towards Drax as he caught up some words. While still bickering with Gamora, he gazed briefly in the same direction as his fellow Guardians and noticed the blue men too.

Peter said, "I wonder what they are doing here. This doesn't look like a typical Kree hang-out."

"Kree do not hang out."

Peter wasn't sure if he got Drax right. Did he mean they do not literally hang out or did he mean they do not hang out as a figure of speech?

Meanwhile, Gamora had turned her head and mingled into the discussion. "It's odd to see three of them in one place. They mostly travel in larger groups."

Rocket emptied his ale. After three beers, he wasn't drunk yet, but close. He licked his lips and said, "Why dontcha go over and shake hands? Kree are our best friends." He grinned. And if they were enemies, they had to be kept close too.

"No chance in hell I get off this chair today," Peter protested.

"Then you have to stay here for another 80 hours before the sun sets," Drax replied dryly.

"80 hours? I better order the next round then," Peter joked.

While the sun was still high in the sky, the Guardians strolled back to their ship. Drax, who hadn't drunk as much as the rest, spotted five Kree in battle uniforms standing in front of the entrance of the Milano. He said, "Look over there," and pointed with his head in the direction.

They moved further at a slower pace. Rocket took his big gun from his shoulder and wielded it in his paws, somewhat unsteadily. Peter opened his jacket and held his hand close to his weapon. Gamora pulled her sword and Drax took his knifes out of their sheaths. Groot stayed put with Rocket. This way they steadily approached the Milano.

Peter moved up front. Closing in, he waved his hand in a vague military salute and asked, "Gentlemen, what brings us the pleasure?"

A Kree with one decoration more than the rest, made a small step forward and replied, "Are you the ones calling themselves 'The Guardians of the Galaxy'?"

"We're known by that name," Peter answered, glancing to both sides to point to his crew, at the same time checking their readiness in case a fight would break out.

"We want you to come with us."

"For what reason?"

"You stand accused of killing Ronan."

Peter was taken aback by this absurd answer, then snorted with disbelief on his face, "This got to be a joke!"

"We are not joking. We do not take his death lightly."

Now Peter exclaimed in outrage, "The freak was going to kill a planet! Excuse us for knocking him down first, but he had it coming."

Gamora scrutinised the group of combatants. She interjected, "Under whose command are you acting? I don't recognise your uniforms. Did the High Command send you?"

"No. Our faction is loyal to Ronan and his wife. Your deed cannot go unpunished."

Peter riposted, "That's completely ridiculous. If you have a complaint, take it up with the Nova Corps. Maybe you can apply for reparations for the widow."

Rocket chuckled. This was his kind of sarcasm. He barked, "That's right, ya dickheads. Killing a planet comes with a risk. Quit yer winin' and buzz off. Ya can send my regards to his grievin' wife."

The Kree leader faced Peter and asked unmoved, "Were you placed under the operational command of the Nova Corps?"

Star-Lord grunted, "No, we act independently. We just really object to genocide. Now will you move aside, we're tired and want to go home."

Drax struck a battle pose, spreading his arms and firmly holding his knifes in both fists. Two more Kree had joined the group from behind the craft. They formed a semicircle with their colleagues.

Peter commanded, "This is what we're gonna do. You either step back and let us go to our ship, or we will cut our way through you."

Rocket saw one of the soldiers make a move for his weapon. The raccoon immediately fired. He aimed for the chest, but his shaky gun hit the man in the stomach. The soldier fell and hit the ground.

The Kree reached for their arms. In a fraction of a second, Drax made two steps forward and planted his knifes into the rightmost soldier, one of the newcomers. Peter dropped to the ground. Two Kree to the left had opened fire on him; one of them hit him in his right leg. He shot his attacker down while falling. Rocket blasted the other one, but got hit in the kidney zone with a bolt of return fire. He went down. Groot immediately placed himself in front of his wounded friend and took a number of hits. Rocket was on the ground, but managed to shoot between Groot's legs, disabling another soldier.

The leader aimed his gun at Gamora, who simply chopped off the hand holding the weapon. She kicked a second attacker towards Drax, the latter cut his head clean off in one swing. Then Gamora stuck her sword to the throat of the amputated man. There was no blood flowing out of his wounded arm; his suit apparently had sealed the cut automatically. "You have made a big mistake," she snapped at him.

"Do not think this is over! There are many more of us!" he threatened her.

Out of the corner of her right eye, she could see Drax strike a dramatic fighting pose, arms bent down symmetrically, fists clenching the bloodstained, dripping knifes. He was calling out a battle cry.

Peter, trying to get up and hobble on one leg, detected what Drax had seen seconds earlier: a new group of Kree soldiers rushed in from behind the far end of the Milano. He quickly decided, "Into the ship, now!"

Groot lifted up Rocket.

"I can walk, ya big log," he complained. As Groot took him, he yelped and whined, "Flark, I'm hurt."

Peter ran up the stairs as fast as he could, supported by Gamora. Drax kept facing the closing attack group and dodged a few shots. The green warrior woman shouted, "Get in, Drax, we have wounded to tend to."

Drax grunted in disappointment and followed them in.

Gamora took the pilot seat. The Milano went into orbit to the other side of the giant planet and then left in a vertical ascend at sub light-speed. As soon as the distance to Koolstof 2 was large enough, Gamora chose a random destination and activated the hyper-luminous drive. This was a common escape strategy.

Next thing she went to the sickbay. Groot had already laid Rocket on a stretcher. Peter was sitting on a chair next by, about to take off his trousers.

"Be careful," Gamora said, "these are burn wounds. Don't pull off your skin."

"I know," Peter said.

Rocket was not happy to be in sickbay. He hated medical treatments. Gamora had worked with him before and had developed a no-nonsense attitude. She opened his jacket, carefully pulling at the fabric that covered the burn wound. A patch of molten hairs was sticking to the garment. She took a knife to cut them, so the hairs did not pull at the skin while she removed the jacket.

"I can do that myself, just go help Star-Dork, will ya?"

Gamora ignored the protest of the smallest team member. She took a bottle of disinfectant and sprayed it on the wound.

"Aaaah! Rocket screamed, "Stop that, it stings like hell."

"Come on you pussy, stop bitching and act like a man."

The raccoon sat up and made a threatening growl that failed to impress Gamora. She pushed the ring-tailed Guardian back to the table and pinned him firmly while she rubbed the wound with a disinfected cloth, ignoring his moans and curses. "There, it's clean," she assured him when she was done.

"Bitch!"

"Baby!"

She handed the angry raccoon a cloth with disinfectant and salve in a tube. "Clean your hands. You can apply the ointment yourself."

Rocket eyeballed her with a snarl, tending to his wounds while Gamora checked on Peter. The Star-Lord had seated himself in his underpants, managed to pull off one pipe of his pants and slowly rolled the second down. He had reached the messy burn spot. Gamora cut a hole in the pants with a pair of scissors, earning a dismayed look from Peter.

He protested, "What are you doing! Those are my favourite pants."

"Those are your only pants."

"Not true, I have a spare."

"Then what are you complaining about?"

The woman cautiously cut away the patch that was stuck to Peter's leg. After a while, the wound was uncovered. She gave it the same treatment as Rocket's injury, causing Peter to grind his teeth to bear the pain.

Meanwhile, Groot had started to bandage Rocket. Gamora looked at him with a surprised expression on her face, saying, "I didn't know you could do that, Groot."

"I am Groot."

The raccoon explained, "He has followed an online first aid course."

Groot tugged the bandage firmly and Rocket complained, "Ouch, ye're windin' it too tight!"

"No, he's doing it right. The gauze should stay in place; otherwise, your wound will get infected. You don't want a festering burn wound."

Meanwhile Peter had managed to bandage himself.

A small space cruiser, about hundred metres long, landed on a desert planet called Waa'i-Du'in 3. A platform descended from underneath. Two blue men walked off and took a few steps into the sand. Their white coats looked reddish in the light of the weak sun. One of them carried an oversized test tube. The other man held a large view screen between his hands.

"Arrival?" the one with the test tube asked.

"7 hours and 35 minutes."

"Initiating dispersion measurement."

The test tube contained a small view screen on the side. The operator tapped on a symbol. The upper part of the test tube was sealed off, except for a nozzle. A ring around this small spigot blinked three times. The men waited patiently while minutes passed.

Finally, a message appeared on the large view screen. The scientist who held it, reported,

"Dispersion rate: 0.03."

"OK, that is within the expected range. We have to wait for their final position. If they stay for a day, a ten kilometre radius should be sufficient."

The men walked back onto the platform and rose into the ship.