Chapter 9: A Meeting of the Minds
When he awoke, Captain J-Son felt as though he were lying on a cloud, and for a moment, he feared he hadn't survived the crash.
However, when J-Son opened his eyes, and once his blurry vison had refocused, he found himself in a large bedroom with wooden walls, at the centre of which he lay on a soft, warm mattress, the frame of the bed creaking with every move he made.
He sat up quickly, the bed creaking once again. Pulling the bedding aside, young J-Son found himself wearing only his undergarments, which were limited to a pair of microfiber briefs. Across his chest, a bandage had been wrapped all the way around his torso from his chest to his back, covering a deep, sore wound which he could only assume he'd acquired when crash-landing. His bandage was wet with fresh blood, suggesting the wound had reopened whilst J-Son had been fidgeting in his sleep.
His unkempt hair and a five o'clock shadow grown across his jawline also suggested that he'd been here – wherever here was – for a number of days.
Looking out of the wooden room's only window, J-Son was offered an expansive view of the planet's surface. It was a lush, green planet – much like Spartax had been hundreds of years ago – with fields spread out across hundreds of acres, a single sun beaming down above them.
It was at that moment that J-Son heard the creak of wooden door as it slid open to reveal a young, female humanoid stood in the doorway.
The female was beautiful. Her chestnut-coloured hair fell to just below her shoulders. She wore a checked flannel shirt coloured red and white, as well as a pair of denim jeans torn at the knee, suggesting she was not afraid of hard labour.
It was then that young and foolish J-Son noticed the double-barrelled shotgun in the female's hands.
"So," she began, clutching the shotgun tightly. J-Son's translator implant, it appeared, was still in working order. "Here's the deal," she continued, her accent bearing a twang that J-Son couldn't place to any location – or any planet, for that matter – that he recognised. "I've been spending the last six hours pacing up and down my kitchen, trying to decide whether or not to call the police on you." She stared him down with her wide eyes as J-Son sank slowly into the bed, his gaze fixated on the double-barrel aimed directly at him. "Believe it or not, UFOs crash-landing in your back garden isn't exactly commonplace around here." She approached the bed, where J-Son was surprised to see her take a seat on the edge of the wooden bed's frame, still clutching the shotgun in her hand. Were he to charge at her know, he may have been able to disarm her before she could thumb the weapon's trigger. "But I've worked long and hard to make a go of it out here, to have some peace and quiet, and the last thing I want is for the FBI or the CIA or whatever the hell, to come here, cause a whole load of commotion, start tearing apart my property, asking me questions… I've worked too hard, and my father worked too hard, to let that happen to my home, where I hope to start a family one day." Her grip became ever tighter on the shotgun. "But, mister, when I dragged you out of that… spaceship of yours, the first thing you did was point a gun at my head, so I have to ask you now…" She lifted her shotgun, aiming it directly at J-Son's head, squinting her left eye as she took aim. From where she sat, there's no way she could possibly have missed if she thumbed that trigger. "…Can I trust you?"
J-Son took a deep breath, breathing out through his nose, before nodding in response. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you," he apologised sincerely.
The female's stern expression shattered as she began to grin. "I wouldn't exactly call crash-landing in my backyard inconveniencing me," she replied sarcastically.
J-Son wore a look of confusion. He ignored the female's quip. "I'm also sorry for treating you with such hostility initially. You did me a great service by pulling me from that burning wreck, and your kindness is much appreciated." He paused to smile at the female. "I can only hope that, one day, I will be able to return it."
The female shook her head and sighed. "Honestly, the best thing you could possibly do for me right now would be to get back in your ship and get off my land, but something tells me that that's not going to be quite so simple."
J-Son rubbed his aching forehead, his tiredness hitting him like a ton of bricks. "From what I can remember of the crash, my ship was severely damaged."
"You can say that again," the female replied with a chuckle. "So, what, are you Air Force? Spec-Ops? Black Ops? 'Cause I ain't never seen an aircraft like that before."
Suddenly, an idea struck him, and his eyes widened. "Tell me, where exactly am I?"
The female wore a puzzled - if not deeply troubled - expression on her face. "Jefferson City… Missouri," she answered, feeling as though she was stating the obvious. However, when she noticed J-Son's blank expression, she became even more concerned. "Earth."
J-Son sighed. "Damn" he cursed "I'm in uncharted territory, way off the Empire's scanners," he uttered under his breath. Noticing the female's puzzled expression, he said, "I was going to light a rescue beacon, but I'm too far in the Outer Rim territories. The Spartoi Empire would never track me down."
"The Spartoi Empire?" she echoed in question. "What are you talking about, mister? Who are you? Where are you from?"
There was a pause. "Not around here," J-Son answered vaguely, which unnerved the female.
The terran cocked her shotgun, sitting up and circling the bed until she was stood directly in front of J-Son, where she aimed the shotgun inches from his head. "Don't play games with me!" she barked.
J-Son raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he cried passively. "Please, terran, lower your weapon! My names is Captain J-Son…of Spartax!" There was a silent pause. "My father is Emperor Eson…?" More silence followed. "…Of the legendary Spartoi Empire!?" Even more silence followed before J-Son sighed and shook his head. "Forget it," he urged.
"Terran?" she repeated. A disturbed look began to spread across her freckled face. "You… You're really not from here, are you? From Earth, I mean?"
J-Son shook his head.
The terran lowered her shotgun and paced across the room, running her hands through her hair in a stressed motion. "So, I should expect the men in black suits to kick down my door and drag you over to Area 51 any minute now, right?" she asked. "We're basically like sitting ducks, until then?"
"Sitting ducks?" J-Son echoed in confusion, eyebrow cocked. "I do not understand."
The terran sighed. "Never mind," she replied as J-Son, now sat on the edge of the bed, began to rise to his feet, groaning as he moved. "Are you alright?"
J-Son clenched his teeth and nodded as the pain in his abdomen seared. He feared he'd punctured his third kidney. "I'll be fine," he assured her. "Thank you for patching me up."
The terran dismissed the gesture. "Like I said, I didn't want anybody here," she replied. "Speaking of which, do you think you'd be able to fix that ship of yours? I have some tools you could use if you-"
J-Son chuckled. "You're a funny terran," he said. "I have my own tools, thank you," he explained. "But fixing my ship, it may take some time, he admitted, gazing at the beautiful terran.
There was a pause. The terran looked at her feet. "As long as you're off my land once that ship's fixed-"
"What I'm saying is, the ones that shot me down, they are enemies. Enemies who will come looking for me and - once they've realised that I'm still alive - will try to finish the job, eliminating anyone who gets in their way," J-Son explained.
"If you're asking me whether or not I'd be willing to stick my neck out for you, then the answer's 'no'," the terran assured him.
J-Son bowed his head. "I could never ask anything like that from you-"
"I'm not finished," the terran interrupted. "I may not be willing to take a bullet for you," she continued, "but anyone who thinks that they can trespass on my land and damage my property and hurt my guest without my permission...", she clutched her shotgun, "…is as good as dead."
It was at that moment that Captain J-Son of Spartax realised he was in love.
He was awoken by the shrill ding of an elevator.
As Emperor J-Son rubbed the sleep out of his tired, dark-circled eyes, he heard the clanking of armour, and raised his gaze from his desk and to the elevator doors, out of which marched General Velorum, clad in golden armour, a red cape dangling from his shoulders, and a pair of piercing red eyes visible through the slit in his helm.
"Emperor," the general stated from the furthest corner of the Emperor's Quarters.
"Come forth," J-Son ushered from his seat at his desk, waving General Velorum forward. Although he was now awake, his mind still pondered the dream he'd just awoken from, and how it had resembled a memory more than anything else; a memory long forgotten.
J-Son met the general's gaze, abandoning his previous thoughts. "What news, General?" he asked.
"Sir," the general began in a grave tone, "Your guest has arrived."
J-Son gulped. "I see," he replied calmly, masking his unease. J-Son rose from his seat, tidying his collar as he did so. "Tell him I'll be along shortly," he ordered.
"With all due respect," General Velorum uttered, "I wouldn't consider it wise to keep this guest waiting. He is not renowned for his patience."
J-Son paused before turning to face Velorum. He strode towards the general, until there was only inches between them. "With all due respect," he echoed in a mocking tone, staring down at the general, eyes bulging, and a vein throbbing across his forehead, reaching bursting point, "It is I who decides whether or not my guest is kept waiting." He clasped the general's shoulder, smiling sadistically. "Of course, if you're so full of ideas as to how to welcome our guest, perhaps you can deal with him instead?"
He watched as General Velorum quivered beneath his armour. "No," he responded, "thank you, Emperor J-Son. I will not speak out of turn again. I promise." The general fell silent.
"I hope not, General, for your sake," J-Son replied cruelly. "Otherwise, you may end up like your predecessor General Praxidike." There was a pause, during which J-Son refused to tear his gaze from the shaken general. "I may be able to pardon another interruption such as this, but you will not find our guest to be as forgiving as I am."
"I understand, sir," Velorum replied softly as J-Son swept past him and through the elevator doors.
The doors slid closed behind him.
The elevator began to descend.
From his seat at the far end of the oak table, Emperor J-Son poured himself a glass of Krylorian wine.
The sound of wine pouring was the only disturbance to the silence filling the hall, which was lit by a single chandelier hanging above them, and whose only decorations were a number of tapestries lining the walls, and a single bronze bust of Emperor Eson, J-Son's father, which stood proudly, adjacent to the table at which he and his guest sat at opposite ends.
J-Son supped his wine gradually until the glass was empty. The Emperor hoped that the crisis with the blockade would be resolved as soon as possible so that, if nothing else, he would be able to get his hands on another shipment of the beautiful foreign wine.
Across the table, his guest sat, brooding in the shadows. "It appears to me that you are far from being in a position to be planning an invasion of Xandar," he replied in a raspy voice, having just heard out Emperor J-Son's plot to invade the home planet of his enemies, the Nova Corps.
"You underestimate the power of the Hadron Enforcer," J-Son assured his guest, an eyebrow cocked. "Our scholars believe that this weapon we recently acquired is capable of obliterating the entire blockade. It appears that not only are the Nova Corps unwilling to risk an invasion of Spartax, but they also refuse to remove their ships from our atmosphere, making them – for now – sitting ducks."
His guest wore a confused expression as he leaned slowly from out of the shadows, his chiselled jawline emerging into the light, eyes remaining submerged in shadow.
"It's… something I heard a terran say once," J-Son explained.
"I see," his guest replied in a grave tone, his voice so powerful its force was felt by J-Son all the way from the other side of the table. "Even if you do somehow manage to free your planet of that wretched blockade, how do you intend to successfully conquer a whole planet? No less, one that happens to be home to the most powerful peacekeeping force in the galaxy?"
"With the help of your armies, of course," J-Son answered, a bold smirk spread across his face.
J-Son watched a scowl grow across his guest's face, his giant hands curling into fists of rage. "You dare to presume that I would serve under a scoundrel such as you?"
"Not without some kind of reward," J-Son answered, "No." From his pocket, J-Son drew a small holopad, which he slid across the table, coming to a halt midway between the two, where the holopad began to project the image of a small, circular artifact. An orb, coated in a metallic casing, small enough for J-Son to hold in the palm of his hand.
Despite its size and simplicity, however, the mere sight of the orb made J-Son's guest lean forward.
"How do you know about this?" the guest demanded to know, gazing at the holographic display.
J-Son smirked, aware that he now had his guest exactly where he wanted him. "Another…guest of mine… A terran. He fought in the Battle of Xandar, and he knows exactly where the orb is now."
The guest averted his gaze from the display and to J-Son. He rose to his feet and leaned forward, emerging from the shadows entirely, revealing himself as tall enough to tower over J-Son. He stared wide eyed at the Emperor, giant purple hands clutching the edges of the table. "Where?" he demanded in a haunting, hoarse voice; one that suggested that his patience was wearing thin.
Emperor J-Son's smirk grew. "On Xandar," he answered vaguely. "Somewhere," he added. He began to pour himself another glass of delicious Krylorian wine. "Give me soldiers. Give me firepower. Fight alongside my men as we march against the Nova Corps, and I will give you the orb."
His guest's scarred chin quivered as the rage grew inside him until, finally, it reached its boiling point.
The giant threw the table across the hall with little effort, sending J-Son's glass and wine bottle to shatter against the marble floor, with the oak table collapsing as it crashed against the bronze bust of Emperor Eson, which stood unmoved.
J-Son sat motionless as his guest marched towards him with furious strides. Seconds later, he was feeling his cold, purple hands around his neck, winding him, and was being lifted metres into the air.
J-Son's guest gazed furiously at him at his grip tightened around his neck. "YOU PATHETIC LITTLE MAN! I AM THANOS! I WILL NOT BE BOUGHT!" he spat.
J-Son heard footsteps on marble, the sound rushing towards him, followed by a woman scream, "Let him go!" From out of his peripheral vision, J-Son saw his daughter emerge, a blaster aimed at Thanos' head, and a frightened look upon her face, as though she were in the presence of a monster.
"I said, let him go!" Captain Victoria repeated. "You are a guest here! This aggression will not stand!"
Thanos exchanged his gaze between Victoria and J-Son. A look of anger spread across his face, he begrudgingly released his grip on J-Son, allowing him to fall to the ground, landing hard against the marble floor, where he lay for as long as it took for the air to return to his lungs.
Thanos returned his gaze to Victoria. Looking down at her from his towering height, he was able to convince her to lower her blaster with but a squint of his eyes.
"Tell me," he began, directing his gaze back to J-Son, who sat rubbing his bruised neck, "Do you truly know where the orb is being held? Or is this yet another one of your lies?"
"It's true," J-Son assured him, his ability to breathe normally having returned.
"Why should I believe you?" Thanos tested, his golden armour shimmering in the light.
"Can you afford not to?" J-Son wondered, trying Thanos' patience even further. "I know the orb holds a power stone inside it, and I know why you are after such an artifact," he assured Thanos. 'Or should I say, such artifacts."
Thanos scowled, which seemed to please J-Son.
"That's right," said J-Son, "I know all about your quest for the Infinity Stones. The Power Stone, it would appear, has evaded you more than any other, but now I'm offering you a way of recovering it for good, and I promise you, there will be no shortage of death and bloodshed along the way."
It was then that a smile began to grown upon the face of the Mad Titan.
"You should not have intervened," J-Son scolded his daughter as he tidied his collar, "I had our guest exactly where I wanted him."
"Really?" Captain Victoria asked, marching alongside her father down the long hallway towards the Science Labs. "Because, to me, it looked like you were seconds away from having your neck snapped by Thanos."
J-Son sighed. It appeared his tactics had gone over the head of even his own daughter. "I needed him to feel as though he had the upper hand," J-Son explained. "The Mad Titan would never agree to help me if he so much as suspected he were being used."
"He wouldn't just refuse to help you, father," Captain Victoria replied, "He'd kill you."
J-Son's stern expression remained unchanged. "It's a risk the Empire must be willing to take. Destroying Xandar, and wiping out the Nova Corps, will remind the galaxy of our power, and will allow us to retake our place as conquerors of the galaxy."
Captain Victoria offered her father the Emperor a look of horror. "What are you talking about?"
J-Son paused, clutching Victoria's shoulder and spinning her towards him. He leaned in close to his daughter. "Xandar is just the beginning," he rasped. "With the power of the Universal Church of Truth behind us, and the might of Thanos and his armies at our side, this galaxy doesn't stand a chance, especially when they lose the only peacekeeping force they have," J-Son observed, referring to the Nova Corps, who were living on borrowed time. He smirked.
"What about the Guardians of the Galaxy?" Captain Victoria wondered.
"The Guardians of the-" J-Son stroked his chin until the name came back to him. Upon remembrance, his eyes widened, and the Emperor burst into a fit of chuckles. "What about them?" he asked. "We have their leader, and soon he'll be one of us. The rest of those pirates don't stand a chance." He strode off, shaking his head as he did so.
"I'm sure Ronan thought the same thing," Victoria reminded her father, "Until he was destroyed."
J-Son stopped in his tracks, turned to face Victoria. "And if these Guardians dared to stand against us as they did the Accuser, how – pray tell – do you imagine they'd make it past the blockade?"
Victoria stared deeply into her father's eyes, tensions rising. "Bug," she uttered calmly. "The smuggler left the surface hours ago."
"You fear he might lead the Guardians back to Spartax?"
"It's a possibility," Captain Victoria admitted. "The Guardians are bound to be searching for their leader as we speak, and if they see Bug as their key to reaching him, I can't see that anything would stop them from finding him."
J-Son considered his options, stroking his chin as he did so. "Dispatch a Bounty Hunter to track the Insectoid down before the Guardians do, and have him destroyed."
"And if the Guardians find him first?" Victoria asked.
J-Son fixed his gaze on his daughter, eyes bulging, and the vein on his forehead throbbing to bursting point.
"Then kill them all."
END OF CHAPTER NINE.
Merry Christmas, folks! Apologies for the long, long gap between these last couple of chapters. But, hey, this is one of the longest chapters yet, and I hope you enjoyed it! As always, leave your thoughts in a REVIEW below, and if you haven't already, FOLLOW and FAVOURITE this story for immediate updates.
Have a fantastic Christmas, and see you in 2016 for a new chapter, in which the Guardians will assemble under a new leader.
-George
