DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

A/N: Next chapter! Nothing with J'son is happening just yet. I wanted to establish Peter's PoV (which will be the main PoV in the story, though I will switch to third person when the scenes don't involve Peter). Plus, I figured you'd want to see what the Guardians were doing after the movie.

Also, Star-lord will only be using the powers seen in the first movie (which is basically just the whole energy resistance thing on top of peak human condition). Things to remember: this is an AU, so I'm pretty much ignoring that Peter's father is supposed to be "ancient" and "never seen before." Otherwise, I couldn't even involve J'son the way I want.

I did my best to use alien races from the comics. A lot of research was involved with that, so if you are not familiar with the Badoon or the Shi'ar, don't worry. Just know that they're different alien cultures.

I know that there are other fanfics involving Peter's father out there, but mine will be different, so please just stick with it. The next chapter is when things start getting really interesting. Also, there is a TON of action in this chapter. So if that's what you're looking for, dive right in. There are some hints of Peter/Gamora as well, but nothing too strong.

By the way, reviews are REALLY appreciated. Tell me what I could be doing better, at least from a writing standpoint. If you don't like the plot, that's fine, but don't yell at me for writing it.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!


PRESENT DAY:

~Peter Quill's (aka Star-lord's) Point of View~

I'm not saying I'm the type to judge character based off looks - I mean, look at me. If I went up to a random stranger, and told them that I was a newly-appointed "guardian" of the galaxy or whatever, his or her first instinct would be to laugh.

To everyone else, Terrans (or half Terrans, in my case I guess) were a complete joke; we were too frail and primitive. The idea that one had contributed significantly to Ronan the Accuser's downfall, let alone wielded an Infinity Gem, was pretty ridiculous to them.

And even if they could believe it, I just didn't fulfill alien standards of a "hero-type." Unfortunately for me, these alien assholes had never seen the movie Superman. If they had, I'd bet they'd see the Christopher Reeve vibe I had going for me, instead of the "douchebag" sort of vibe that they perceived.

Anyway, if I was the type to judge character based off looks, I could pretty much say that the Badoon, as a species, were bad news. They were green-skinned, scaly, hunched over little devils, with entirely black eyes and pointy ears protruding from the sides of their misshapen faces. So yeah...I could honestly say that the Badoon were ugly as hell.

And I don't know - I had this weird notion that some people are ugly for a reason. I mean, I am definitely not saying that every ugly person is bad. But I didn't get my good looks for nothing. That's right...Peter Quill was born to be a hero. And then there's Gamora, my fellow Guardian. She could have easily looked like her screw-loose adoptive sister, Nebula, who was basically just a mess of cybernetic enhancements. Instead, Gamora was really good-looking - like really good looking - so that's gotta be a bit of a reflection on her personality, right?

Anyway, when I heard that the Badoon were illegally hijacking Shi'ar scientific outposts near Strontia to add to their own empire, it wasn't exactly a surprise. Like I said, ugly and mean are two traits that go too well together.

And since we're the "Guardians of the Galaxy" or whatnot, it's our apparent job to stop hideous jackasses like the Badoon. Thus, we had abandoned our hopes and dreams to face our grim destinies in the Shi'ar galaxy.

Okay, okay...it wasn't that big of a hassle to be honest. We had been pretty eager to go, actually. The universe had been pretty boring without Ronan to mess with, and since we were technically not supposed to break the law anymore, our options for fun had become pretty limited. Beating up Badoon terrorists seemed like a great distraction.

So yeah...we had pretty much rushed there from our base in Knowhere, traveling as fast as possible.

"Knock, knock!" I said, rapping my fist against the metal, security doors that effectively closed off the Strontian moon outpost from outside interference. We had landed on the dark side of the moon only a few minutes ago, and though we had originally planned to do something unoriginal like "sneak-in," we decided that a dramatic entrance would be a better approach.

Unfortunately for the innocent people inside, the Shi'ar government had their hands essentially tied in this situation. The Badoon were holding their people hostage within the compound, and if any sort of Shi'ar vessel approached the moon, then the terrorist would start killing civilians.

The Guardians of the Galaxy on the other hand? Well, my ship was a lot cooler than any Shi'arian cruiser, and we weren't exactly representatives of their government. So that pretty much left the door wide open for us to interfere.

Given the lack of response from the inside, I knocked on the door again. "Did anyone order a pizza?" I asked sarcastically, ignoring the confused looks that my fellow Guardians gave me. These alien idiots never understood a good Terran pop culture reference.

By now, the Badoon probably should have sent someone to deal with us, or at least fired a few shots in our direction. Our arrival had probably thrown them into disarray, since this little hijacking was supposed to be an exclusively Shi'ar/Badoon affair. If other Ekpires were getting involved, then they assumed that this was escalating into some sort of interplanetary incident. And that could spell trouble for the entire Badoon Empire.

Of course, we were really just an independent group of assholes - a bunch of misfits that had a bad habit of sticking their noses in the wrong places...but the Badoon didn't know that. They wouldn't make a move until they figured out our intentions.

"Well...they're not being very friendly," I remarked, shaking my head at the sealed doors as I put on my helmet. "Rocket, let's teach these jerks some manners."

The genetically-altered raccoon aimed his enormous, uniquely-designed gun at the metal doors. "My pleasure, Quill."

Smirking, he fired his weapon, the blast throwing off shockwaves of force and palpable heat. When the smoke cleared, a huge tear in the metal became apparent. It looked like something had raked a huge claw against the doors, gouging an opening for us.

How a little raccoon could cause so much destruction, most people couldn't imagine. But this was Rocket we were talking about, and I had learned pretty quickly that destruction was his specialty. Any creature that spent his time designing insanely powerful guns - especially ones that could tear through two feet of solid metal like fabric - should not be messed with, no matter how small that creature was.

We entered the compound, stepping over the bodies of some pretty well-cooked Badoon thugs. They had probably been taken out by Rocket's blast.

A long hallway stretched out in front of us. It was illuminated only by flashing, red strobe lights, which were accompanied by a particularly annoying warning alarm. Why the rest of the lights had gone out, I didn't know. Maybe Rocket's gun had also severed some important wiring. Either way, the hallway was looking pretty ominous, and I did my best to break the foreboding atmosphere.

"Honey!" I called jokingly, "We're home!"

Now, saying that might have seemed like a bad idea, but there was really no reason not to joke around. It wasn't like we were sneaking around-we had just blown a hole into the side of the compound, for God's sake. They definitely knew we were here. Might as well entertain ourselves along the way.

We proceeded down the hallway with Gamora taking the lead, and Groot covering our backs. All of our weapons - guns, daggers, and branches alike - were drawn and pointed toward the end of the corridor, ready for any sudden attacks. But none had come...none yet, anyway.

"I do not understand," Drax said in response to my recent taunt, his eyes nonetheless glued to the end of the hallway. "This is not our home, and what is 'honey'?"

Drax wasn't exactly well-versed in sarcasm or metaphor, and he certainly wouldn't understand a human concept like the existence of honey, or its second purpose as an endearing nickname. So his reaction was nothing if not expected.

Rocket was apparently exasperated by Drax's lack of understanding. I heard him mumble, "Moron," under his breath, but luckily, Drax did not hear him. Otherwise, we'd be fighting among ourselves instead of fighting the Badoon.

Or the insult could have been directed at me. Who knows?

Soon enough, we had reached the end of the hallway, and the compound opened up into a large atrium. We had not seen so much as a hint of attacking Badoon warriors, so what was going on?

"We should have met some resistance by now," Gamora remarked suspiciously. "I do not like this."

"Is there anything you like?" I asked with a nervous smile, glancing around just as suspiciously. She was right, of course. This place was supposed to be overrun with Badoon. Where were they?

I saw Gamora smirk, but her hands tightened on her machine gun, which indicated the true tension she felt. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I was about to respond when something fell on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Whatever it was, it probably should have broken my spine with its weight, but I guess I was more durable than the average Terran. As I tried to catch the breath that had been so rudely knocked out of me, I came face-to-face with a really, really fugly Badoon - it had dropped from the ceiling to ambush me.

"Stupid little insect," it hissed, its breath smelling super disgusting. I would come up with some sort of simile to describe it, but there is nothing I could compare that horrible odor to. Besides, a metaphor would just go over Drax's head. All you need to know is that it made me want to throw up, okay?

Anyway, as I was all-to-slowly registering what was happening, the Badoon pointed a gun at my face, preparing to fire at me as its arms and legs pressed mine into the ground. However, before it could shoot, a branch burst through its side, and the Badoon went limp, the gun sliding from its hand.

Lucky for me, Groot had impaled the Badoon warrior, and he used his extended limb to fling my attacker away from me. The Badoon hit a nearby wall with a sickening SMACK before skidding lifelessly to the floor.

"Thanks, Groot!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet despite the bruises that stung my body.

In response, Groot gave me a pleased expression and replied (as always) "I am Groot."

I assumed that he meant "You're welcome," or something of the sort, but there was no time to decipher the hidden meaning of those three simple words. Hundreds of Badoon were soon dropping to the floor, weapons at the ready.

Smart little bastards - sticking to the ceiling like that. They had probably prepared this ambush since we landed on Strontia's moon.

Okay, okay. I guess we could have planned this whole "attack" thing better. Maybe sneaking in would have been a smarter choice - maybe. But everyone always "sneaks in" - it was so unoriginal! Besides, I doubted some of my fellow Guardians (*cough* Drax *cough*) would be able to remain discreet, you know?

Meanwhile, Rocket had switched to another gun - one that was better suited for close-combat. He released a hail of bullets into the crowd of dropping Badoon warriors, and many of them were really, really dead by the time they reached the ground. Simultaneously, Gamora and Drax were shooting/slashing their way through the few Badoon that had actually survived their fall...needless to say they hadn't survived for long.

"Can you guys handle this?" I asked, now contributing shots from my Quad blaster - all of which were very well-placed, if I may say so myself. "We need to find the hostages."

"Are you kidding? In a few minutes, these guys'll be deader than Drax's personality!" Rocket said happily as he continued firing (Drax luckily ignored this). He pulled his other gun - the one that he used to demolish the doors - off his back and tossed it to me. I caught it with some difficulty, seeing as the thing was like a hundred pounds. I briefly wondered how Rocket could carry it around, especially with the rest of the arsenal that he kept with him.

But I really didn't have time to figure it out, so I turned to Groot. "You're with me, bud. C'mon!"

Groot and I used a blaster/branch combo to cut through a horde of approaching Badoon, which cleared a path to a nearby door. As we ran forward, I blasted through the metal doors with Rocket's gun. The greater distance created a little less destruction, which was good. If the hostages were on the other side, we didn't want them harmed by our assault.

We soon found ourselves in another, larger hall, where a group of several thousand Shi'arians sat on their knees. Their hands were placed on their heads, and a few of them were crying.

Surrounding the cluster were armed Badoon warriors, all watching the hostages with cautious vigilance. Our arrival seemed to startle them - especially Groot's, who could seem quite terrifying.

Of course, if you were friends with him, you'd know that he was pretty much the biggest softy in the galaxy, but that's not something you tell the jackasses you're about to send to their graves.

Before they could really react, I switched to my Quad blaster and carefully picked off a dozen or so guards. Eventually, though, the rest of them got wise and started firing back. Luckily, Groot had expanded his arm-branch into a blunt sort of shield, and he covered me from the blasts.

My advice: If you ever have the chance to befriend a large, sentient, arboreal humanoid, I suggest you take it. Seriously.

A few seconds later, Groot and I lunged to opposite sides of the hall. While he attacked a row of Badoon warriors, swatting them away from the hostages, I activated my jet boot attachments, which launched me several feet into the air. From the high ground, I was able to pick off the remaining guards, thus sending those selfish jerks to an early grave.

I had no regrets about that, either. After all, what kind of sick bastards held defenseless people hostage like that?

Between the Kree, the Badoon, and the Shi'ar - the latter of which especially, since they had done nothing to save these people - I was starting to become really, really pissed off at all these bureaucratic empires. They just didn't care about anything except for their own power agendas.

But then again...if they weren't such complete asswipes, the Guardians of the Galaxy wouldn't need to exist, now would it?

A few minutes later, all the Badoon in the hall had been eliminated, and the hostages were freed. I dropped to the ground and dissolved my helmet to address the people in front of me. In truth, I didn't know what to say to these civilians. Was I supposed to comfort them or something? Maybe give them instructions for a safe and rapid journey out of the compound?

Instead, I did what I normally did: ruined the moment.

"I'm not saying you all have to thank me…but you probably should," I told them jokingly, running my hand through my hair.

Groot looked at me with an expectant expression, saying - you guessed it - "I am Groot."

"Him too, of course. Maybe you guys should form a little line to express your personal gratitude, or-" I winked at a particularly attractive Shi'arian woman, and helped her to her feet, "you could just give me your contact information and thank me in private."

"Keep it in your pants, Quill," a snide voice said from behind me. Rocket.

I turned to see that he, Gamora, and Drax had entered the hall, their skin and clothes covered with green blood. I assumed that the blood belonged to the Badoon warriors they had recently dispatched, since none of them seemed injured in the least.

Gamora saw me and the Shi'arian woman, and as our eyes met, a sour look twisted her features. Sure, you may be thinking: Oh, she's jealous. She's so in love with you.

Ha. Yeah right. That expression was far from an indication of jealousy. Its real implication probably was something like this: "Peter, you're such a pig. This is exactly why I don't want to be with you."

But hey, most of my life was spent working for space pirates who preached that sentiment was the enemy - that mushy stuff like love didn't even exist. I never really gave a second thought to acting this way around women - at this point, it was my nature. And yeah, I know; if I really cared about Gamora, I'd work harder to "win her heart" or whatever BS people called "wooing" these days.

Old habits die hard, though. So we'd both have to wait and see.

Suddenly, one of the Shi'arian hostages interrupted my reverie, which was probably a good thing. I hated thinking about mushy stuff.

"I don't understand. Who the hell are you guys? And what are you doing here?"

I turned to the speaker, who stood at the center of the crowd. As far as I could tell, he was middle-aged, and his features betrayed terror. I didn't blame him for feeling that way, either. He was probably worried that he had fallen from the hands of one group of criminals to another.

"No need to fear, citizens," I told them, feeling proud as my friends moved to stand beside me. "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy, and we're here to protect you."

To be continued...