The Guardians Will Always Have ... Something
The end of one story sometimes means the beginning of another.
[Author's Note: This story takes place a few months after the story Groot, the Juke Box, and That Loving Feeling, and after the story Gamora and the Strange Liaisons.]
"I do not understand," said Drax. "Did Earth used to be entirely in black and white?"
"Perhaps it is supposed to say something about the characters," said Gamora. "That fellow is wearing a white suit, for example."
"It's just the way that movies were made back then," said Peter. "It's pretty old, you know. Set in World War Two."
"Hmm," said Drax. "Numbering wars is very efficient. My people should have thought of that."
"Why, how many have you had?" said Peter.
"Eighty-six, I think," said Drax. "Had we numbered them, I would know more certainly."
"Hey, will you guys shut up," said Rocket. "Some of us are trying to watch this."
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"Ha!" said Rocket.
The five of them were sitting in the main room of Ship. They had been at this location, on the edge of an asteroid field, for nearly a day, waiting and hidden. According to Nova Corps intelligence, a raider ship from the Tarkine Empire was due to pass through this area sometime soon. Really, Empire might be too strong a term. It was actually a rickety little collection of planets held together by a pompous fellow called Tarkus, who fancied himself a religious prophet. Most of the tenets of the faith he had created appeared to relate to stopping anyone having any fun. But his religious pretentions and the fact that he held a seat on the Galactic Council did not stop him from covertly sponsoring a mini-fleet of ships to plunder whatever they could lay their hands on.
So the Guardians had sat for hours, slowly going mad with boredom. Then Peter had remembered the videotape in the TV/VCR that Comso had given them. With a certain amount of trepidation, they had gathered around it, and started the tape. Peter had done his best to explain some of the historical background, not that he knew much about it.
"That is a nice bar, this place called Ricks," said Drax. "We should go there."
"And this city called Paris looks very appealing too," said Gamora. "Er, not that I am saying ... that it appeals to me. I am just saying ... that it might appeal to others."
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"Yeah, I don't like the look of the Strasser dude either," said Rocket. "Too ... clean."
"This Elsa woman has a certain ... luminous ... quality," said Drax. "The fellow called Rick should kill the fellow called Lazlo in order to get her. That would solve all the problems."
They all looked at him. "Well, it would," he said.
The communicator beeped. Peter stopped the tape. The face of Nova Prime came up on the communicator screen.
"I assume that you have not yet made contact with the Tarkine," she said.
"We live in hope," said Peter. "What have these guys been stealing, anyway?"
"Juke boxes," said Nova Prime.
"Uh, what?" said Peter.
"Juke boxes, machines which play music when you put coins in them," said Nova Prime. "There is getting to be a thriving black market in them, with Ravagers bringing them from Terra. Apparently, it began at a bar at a space station called Space Station – not that I have ever been there, mind you, certainly not, never. The place got one and it proved to be so popular they spread. You wouldn't know how that got started, would you?"
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"There, you see, we don't," said Rocket. "Straight from the tree's mouth."
Groot looked at him. He started to speak again, but then shrugged.
"Apparently, a Tarkine ship snatched one from a bar out past Knowhere," said Nova Prime. "Took the whole thing. Broke the place up a bit, too."
"But why would Tarkus steal a juke box?" said Peter. "I thought he was against anything like that."
"He's a difficult customer, hard to know what he really wants," said Nova Prime. "I have dealt with him at the Council and I have not enjoyed the experience. He thinks he has a mission to tell everyone else what to do."
"Strasser," said Drax.
"Pardon?" said Nova Prime.
"Er, nothing, nothing," said Peter. "Well, we have to go now, we have got ... important business."
"Be seeing you," said Gamora.
Nova Prime stared at her. Gamora smiled, then cut the connection.
Rocket started the tape again. In the bar, the group of German soldiers were singing. Lazlo began to conduct the bar's band in a different song.
"Sing louder, French people!" said Drax.
"That is a very ... stirring ... song," said Gamora.
The sing-off concluded, and Major Strasser – the loser – ordered the closure of the bar on the basis that "everyone is having much too good a time".
"This is very complicated," said Gamora. "But also interesting. What do you think is going to happen?"
"Rick kills Lazlo," said Drax. "Or maybe Lazlo kills Rick."
"No, Lazlo kills Strasser," said Rocket. "They clearly have issues."
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"Why would Rick kill Strasser?" said Rocket to him.
"Who will Elsa end up with?" said Gamora. "Since she loves them both. Which is, indeed, rather foolish. But I suppose it is unpredictable, that stuff. Or ... so I have heard."
"What's with the juke boxes?" said Peter.
The others stared at him.
"Geez, get with the program, Quill," said Rocket.
They went back to the movie. Now Rick was pointing a pistol at Lazlo.
"There, you see, I told you," said Drax. "But he really should have a bigger gun."
They were at the airport. Darkness. Fog. Trenchcoats. The engines of the plane rumbled into life. There was a loud beeping.
"Uh, what's that?" said Rocket.
"That is the vehicle that will take someone to the planet of America," said Drax. "Once they can work out who."
"No, the beeping," said Rocket.
"Proximity alert!" said Peter. "The Tarkine! Everyone to stations!" He began to run for the cockpit.
"But ... but – " said Rocket, pointing at the screen. "We're just about to find out ... damn. Okay, then, let's kill these guys and make it snappy."He ran for his position, leaving the tape playing.
Peter in the pilot seat, Gamora at Tactical, Rocket at Weapons, and Drax in the twin-gun turret. Groot, waiting at the back of the cockpit, was ready to handle any damage. The formidable weaponry of Ship came online, and Peter pulled out of the asteroid field. The Tarkine ship came into view.
No, not ship. Ships. Four of them. They were smaller than Ship, but ... well, four of them.
"The Nova Corps intelligence did not say that," said Gamora. "They mentioned only one. Four is ... a challenge."
The Tarkine were turning towards them. Their guns were coming online.
Rick said: " ... the problems of three little people don't add up to a hill of beans in this crazy world ... "
"First salvo on the way!" cried Rocket. Ship bucked as the missiles left the bay. They smashed into the first Tarkine vessel. It exploded in a burst of oxygen-fuelled flame.
" ... you're getting on that plane ... "
The second Tarkine ship fired a pair of missiles. "I'm on it," said Drax from the turret, swinging his guns at them and firing. Both missiles went up.
Gamora was feeding tactical information to the pilot's console. In response, Peter violently swung Ship so it was between the two lead Tarkine ships. Now they could not fire without hitting each other.
"Nice move, greenie," said Rocket. "Firing broadside, both sides!" With the range close, Drax chimed in with the turret guns.
"Rick ... "
"We'll always have Paris."
One of the Tarkine ships exploded. But the other, although damaged, turned towards Ship. Closing.
"Another few seconds before we're re-loaded!" shouted Rocket.
"We might not have a few seconds," said Gamora.
"Up to you now, Drax," said Peter into the intercom.
He fired. Major Strasser fell.
"HEAVY METAL THUNDER!" cried Drax, his guns spouting flame. Cranked up to full power and then some, the vibrations could be felt throughout Ship.
The Tarkine ship was coming towards them, close now. Drax's shells were smashing into it, raking along the side. It exploded, with a whirlwind of shrapnel and debris.
"Major Strasser's been shot!" said Remy to his men. "Round up the usual suspects."
Pieces of metal slammed into the side of Ship. The whole vessel shuddered.
"Hull breach in main hall!" said Gamora, switching to the Environment console. "Losing atmosphere!" Groot was already moving.
"Very noble of you," said Remy, as the plane lumbered into the air. "But you still owe me ten thousand francs."
The two men walked into the fog. "This," said Rick, "could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"Where's the last one?" said Peter.
Gamora gestured to the Tactical screen, to the fourth Tarkine ship, making a run for it, already a good distance away.
"No way we can pursue," said Rocket. "Not until we make some repairs. The engines took a hit as well."
"Then I suppose Tarkus will get his juke box after all," said Peter. "For whatever purpose."
Groot's voice came over the intercom. "I am Groot," he said.
"Does that mean the breach is sealed?" said Peter to Rocket.
"Of course, what else would it mean," said Rocket.
They gathered in the main room, re-pressurised now. Groot had positioned an emergency shield over the breach, and had shifted a supporting bulkhead for extra strength. It had been a close call.
But there had been a casualty. The TV/VCR had taken a chunk of metal, the same piece that had come through the side of Ship. It would never play again.
"Damn, now we'll never get to find out how it ended," said Rocket, holding up the shattered cassette.
"I am ... upset," said Drax. "But I would like to think that Rick and the luminous woman would go off together."
"Maybe," said Peter.
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"Really?" said Rocket. "Rick sending Elsa away with Lazlo? Why would he do that?"
"I am Groot," said Groot.
"What do you mean, because he loves her!? What sort of ending would that be!?" said Rocket.
"You know," said Drax, "I think I can live with that."
"But she never gets to hear him say it," said Gemora softly.
"No," said Peter. "She never does." He turned and walked out of the room. In a few moments, he returned, carrying something. He handed it to Gamora. It was still wrapped in hide.
She pulled the hide away. She stared at what the cover said.
"One of a kind," said Peter to her.
Gamora stared at him. Tears began to fill her eyes and slowly roll down her cheeks. Then, clutching the book to her chest, she stiffly walked away.
"Huh," said Rocket, watching her go. "Looks like greenie's got a heart after all."
"Yes," said Peter. "She does."
The headquarters of the Tarkine Empire was a cathedral-like building. Emperor Tarkus was sitting on his imperial throne in the cavernous Imperial Chamber, contemplating his greatness, when Korath the Pursuer entered, his new cybernetic skull glistening. He was followed by several robed Imperial Monks, dragging a juke box.
"Ah," said Tarkus. "So you have returned. With our prize. Perhaps you are worth what I am paying you after all, mercenary."
"You are most generous, Emperor," said Korath. "I regret to report, however, that three of our ships – which is to say, your ships – were lost."
"And this concerns me ... how?" said Tarkus.
"I mention it only to note that the ships were destroyed by the notorious Guardians of the Galaxy, who I understand are ultimately responsible for this plague of ... things," said Korath, gesturing to the juke box.
Tarkus nodded, and took a closer look at the shiny machine. One of the Imperial Monks plugged it in.
The Emperor pushed some buttons at random.
A voice sang: "Don't push me, cos I'm close the edge, I'm trying not to lose my head, it's like a jungle, sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from going under – "
Uh-huh, thought Korath.
Tarkus pushed another button.
"If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it – "
Another button.
"Come take my hand, we're riding out tonight to case the Promised Land, ohh, Thunder Road – "
Another.
"Shut up and drive – "
Tarkus grimaced. "Evil," he said. "Evil, evil, evil. Distracting people when they should be thinking right and proper thoughts. And meditating. All of these machines must be destroyed."
"I will see to it," said Korath. "And the Guardians?"
"Them too," said the Emperor.
END