Hey guys...remember me? ...I'm that one person who wrote that one story you kind of liked and then didn't get updated in forever and you forgot about it? Ha ha..good times... So, I'm posting again. I didn't get sick or fall off the face of the plant, this being AWOL was just because of lack of motivation. I have no excuse. Nothing. ...Nope.

I do have some reviewers to thank though. Namely Guest, SuperStar50, CatGurlFireflare, and Plaid Pajamas01. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! and to everyone she followed/favorited/ or read thank you, I was always stunned that if my two month absence people kept reading my story.

I think I snapped out of my funk partly because I started betaing for NightAngelFalling, and their story Switching Sides. I just wanted to take this moment to thank her/him and say; if you like Young Justice, what ifs, and angsty Wally go check it out!

Have to do this: I do not own Guardians of the Galaxy. But I did see Avengers: age of Ultron, who else saw it? What did you think?

I think I'm stalling...on with the story!

No one's brains seemed to work for a moment afterword. An explosion will do that to you.

In a daze of flabbergast, Philly's knuckles dumbly tapped out a steady rhythm on the metal desk. To her right Peter, jaw hitting the floor, slapped his hand down on her wrist, more out of reflex then any thought process. She didn't notice.

Gamora, with all her training, was the first one to snap out of her trance-like state, she pushed herself to a standing position in one smooth motion. Taking long, swift strides to the still glowing Orb she forced the two halves closed with an audible snap.

The assassin was halfway to the door before Quill leapt ungracefully to his feet, his longer legs catching up quickly in a brisk trot. With one last look at the disarray and the blackened, dust-covered spot where Carina once stood Philly, two heads shorter then the two of them, gave an all out sprint out of the showroom.

…

…

"How could I think Tivan could contain whatever was inside the Orb?" Gamora asked no one. The green skinned woman indulged in a moment of self-blame and anger for her stupidity before smothering those feelings like snuffing out a candle, trying to force her mind to think clearly.

Which would have been infinity easier with no outside distractions.

Out on the street a small crowd had started to form. Made up of the riffraff Knowhere was crawling with, most had their blasters and various weapons in different stages of unholster. The danger registered in the back of her brain, but right now Gamora had bigger things to worry about.

Rocket had met them outside. When he saw the trio, the bounty hunter's jaw dropped in exasperation.

"What do you still have it for?!" He asked, pulling at his face in disbelief that anyone could be thoughtless enough to hold on to the Orb.

Gamora head Quill's heavy footsteps come to a stop behind her, "well what were we supposed to do, leave it there?"

The bounty hunter, still dazed, moaned, "I can't believe you had that in your purse!"

"It's not a purse, it's a knapsack!" the Terran defended

"We had that thing on the ship!" Philly screeched, ignoring the purse jab opportunity. Her feet couldn't keep still, as she pranced about on the outside of the loose circle like the ground was hot coals and waiving her arms madly, "We played catch with it! And you two threw it off a fergal bridge!" She pointed an accusing finger at Gamora and Quill, the former sparing the other woman a brief deadpan look.

"We have to bring this to the Nova Core." Gamora decided, "There's a chance they can contain it."

The green-skinned woman held back a wince as Philly gave another screech, "A CHANCE? YOU WANT TO BASE THIS ON A CHANCE?!"

"What!" Rocket yelled, "We're wanted by the Nova Core! Just give it to Ronan."

"So he can destroy the galaxy?" Peter yelled back to be heard over his partner, who had gone back to ranting.

"What are you, some saint all of a sudden?" The bounty hunter snapped, "What has the galaxy ever done for you? Why would you want to save it?"

"Because I'm one of the idiots who lives in it!"

The pilot's frenzied raving broke through the conversation, "That thing could have blown up the Milano!"

Gamora grabbed the front of Quill's jacket and the scruff of Philly's coat, giving the latter a hard shake, "Please, listen to me. We cannot allow the stone to fall into Ronan's hands. We have to go back to your ship and return to Nova."

To her surprise the Terran nodded in agreement, "Right, okay, I think you're right. Or," the surprise vanished. "We could give it to somebody who's not going to arrest us, who's really nice for a whole lot of money."

His partner in crime's hand shot up in volunteer, "I've got people I can call!" She chirped.

"I think it's a really good balance between both of you're points of view." He made a grab for the Orb but the green-skinned woman pulled it out of reach.

"You two are despicable." Gamora told them in deadpan.

Philly and Peter shrugged. A gesture saying, eh, what're you gonna do?

The green skinned woman continued, "Dishonorable…faithless!" with a huff the green skinned woman turned on her heel, forcing herself not to stomp as she made for the Milano.

"Oh, no."

In an instant what to do with the Orb was pushed to the back of each of their minds. Drifting down through the Knowhere smog, a fleet of angular, duel-winged crafts hovered over the poorly lit airspace. More swarmed around, noses pointed at the Collector's showroom. Instead of fleeing, the beings of the outlaw planet stopped to stare and it wasn't long before a crowd formed.

Philly, like the crowd, gawked at the strange ships having never seen anything so small this deep in the 'verse.

An unmistakable, muscular, shirtless figure stood at the ready, arms outstretched, with his sturdy twin knifes in each hand.

"At last!" Drax cried, with a warrior's laugh, "I shall meet my foe, and destroy him."

"I'd wondered where he went." Philly gulped, her eyes widening as they darted from the destroyer to the fleet and back again, the words starting to click.

"I think we're screwed." The Zeldonian had a habit of stating the obvious in times of stress. It calmed her down to say whatever came to mind since that might be her last chance to say anything but it annoyed Peter to no end.

This time, though, he didn't seem to mind all that much. "You called Ronan?"

Off to their immediate right another a group of people, more familiar yet nearly as dreaded, rounded a corner.

"Quill! Resh! Don't neither of you move, ya hear?" Yondu shoved his way toward his wayward wards, armed Ravangers on his booted, blue heels.

Without a second thought, the pair sprinted to the left after Gamora, Groot and Rocket right behind them. They followed her down the streets and alleyways until coming to a gigantic hanger the mining pods were stored when not in use.

When she'd been on the balcony, waiting for the Collector's agent, the assassin had noticed this was the only place the pods ever landed or took off from.

An unlucky miner opened his craft's door a few rows over. His movements were so sluggish that Gamora had already yanked him to the dirt by the front of his shirt before his foot was even on the ground.

Philly couldn't help the giddy laugh that bubbled up her throat as she skipped to the side of a pod, trailing her fingertips tenderly over the windshield as she did. Ever since seeing these things in action on their way into Knowhere the pilot had been itching to give it a test run. Whether that meant a joyride or buying a pod off the black market with her share of the Orb units, she hadn't decided yet, only that this was way cooler.

The interior was cramped, the controls were minimal and dumbed down. After a quick once-over the pilot stepped inside and swung a leg over the grimy racing bike styled seat.

Instructions for use was spelled out in the four most known galactic languages in a place you'd have to be blind to miss.

The first step told her to push button for the door. It rattled closed, and gave a 'click' at the end as the airlock sealed. Then, three switches had to be flicked for the engines to hum to life and the thrusters to activate. On either side of the seat adjustable platforms raised so that her feet could comfortably rest. Two metal clamps attached to her ankles while her hands slipped into the clunky, robotic gloves.

These gloves worked the energy mining hands as the miner steers with their feet by shifting weight.

By going on her tiptoes and leaning forward, Philly's pod lifted off the ground and fell in line behind Gamora, Rocket and Peter on her tailpipe.

…

…

Groot watched the pods disappear over the tops of the buildings. As the engines faded away and the excitement died down the tree man gave a hesitant glance around the garage. Empty.

With an unsure shrug he took a seat on the steps, body creaking as his branches readjusted themselves. Rocket had told him to wait there, so there he waited.

…

…

To the mid levels of Knowhere she followed the green skinned woman, rear-view monitor showing a half dozen in pursuit, and more joining every second. The blue haired Zeldoain turned on the communication link between the pods.

"You gat a plan, 'Mora?"

The other woman's strained voice came crackling back, "Keep the stone away from them. We must get to the Milano!"

Banking left, then a hard right in a futile attempt to shake the bogeys, Philly rolled her eyes.

"What kind of stupid plan is that?" Rocket shot back before she could respond.

"Does anybody else have a good plan?" Peter asked. She took this as he didn't have anything better. Rocket didn't reply, neither did Gamora.

"Philly?"

"Uh, don't get shot down?" She offered, rather unhelpfully.

There was no time for anyone to make a comeback, sarcastic or otherwise. The Necto crafts started to fire, focusing their attention on Gamora.

The assassin dove down into a space between the many levels of buildings made into the skull. Three crafts pealed off in chase and Philly, without a second thought, took off after them.

The path Gamora had picked got very narrow very fast and had a downward turn too sharp for the enemy craft that'd chosen to follow her. The explosion flared up as the two females came into the open, only to have four more ships converge on them.

The pilot grit her teeth, cursing at the lack of fire-power on the diggers, "We could use a little help, Peaty-boy."

"Guys, ease 'um off Gamora till she gets to the Milano." Peter's slightly distorted voice ordered.

"How?" Rocket scoffed, "We got no weaponry on these things."

"These pods are industrial grade, they're nearly indestructible."

The bounty hunter gave a humorless laugh, "Not against necto-plas they're not!"

"That's not what I'm saying."

It, admittedly and embarrassingly, took a half a beat for her to figure it out, then another half beat to make sure that's what Peter meant. At least once a cycle the Tarren warned her about the Milano'spaint job, scolded for not observing the speed limit, or lectured her on the wrongs of underground racing.

It was Rocket's understanding, "Ohhhhh…" followed by the sudden crash of two metallic things colliding that made the Zeldonian grin a croc-ish grin.

In the rear-view screen she clocked four, maybe five Necto crafts on Gamora's tail. Once again going on her toes, Philly ascended and got above the one in front of the pack, angling then inverting her pod. Upside-down wasn't all that different due to the low artificial gravity in the upper levels of Knowhere; it was more like being underwater, then anything.

With barely time to brace for impact the pilot kicked the thrusters on her pod's belly up to full blast, slamming into the lead ship. It exploded beautifully, and like a ball to pins she took out most of the ones behind it as well.

It took longer then expected to get her bearings but after a moment, right side up and nary a scratch, Philly gave a sudden whoop and a howl, probably sounding rather shrill to those listening over the radio.

As effective as her stunt was, ultimately it proved fruitless. As Gamora flew away six more swarmed her, gaining, inch by inch, every second. What's more the pilot found she was not alone. Another half dozen or so enemy crafts were converging on her. Philly could either follow Gamora and give her more heat, or steer these away and hope for the best.

"So much for ease them off us," She snapped through the pod's comms,

"Sorry, we're a little busy back here." Peter quipped.

"One of you boys go help Gamora, I've got my own problems to deal with!" The blue haired woman bobbed and wove, dipped and dived, not trying to shake her tail just keep them distracted until she could find a tight space to ditch them.

"What's the matter, Blue?" Rocket snarked, "I thought you were some sort 'a amazing hotwing, or were ya just blowing smoke?"

Coming to a straight away, Philly did not reply immediately, instead hitting the reverse thrusters to reduce her tail to zero in a burst of exploding fuel tanks.

She gave a self-satisfied snort and opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Gamora, "Quill, I'm trapped, I can't make it to the Milano. I have to head out."

"Huh? Wait, these things aren't meant to go out there!"

Adrenalin pumping and well with in her comfort zone, Philly leaned back, letting her pod climb to the upper atmosphere after the green-skinned woman and the brigade of Necto crafts flying up her afterburners.

The Zeldonian was closer then the others and eager to prove her worth among the mechanics, warriors, and fighters she'd been traveling with the past few cycles. As soon the proximity allowed she activated the mining hands after a glance down at the instructions to rip into an unspecific target.

The others didn't take kindly to her ripping apart the ship and she was fired upon. One lucky shot grazed the pods shell taking out the communication and navigation systems, as she later found out.

Damn lucky shot.

After making sure she had a satisfying number of them angry Philly fell back to Knowhere, a flattering amount of Ronan's fleet pealing off in pursuit.

The sheer number of Necto crafts nearly overwhelmed her, but over all it could have been worse considering she was someone so used to smuggling and fleeing a scene of some sort rather then this confrontation style firefight. But Philly managed and held her own. Could have kept holding her own and kicking their tailpipes if the pod had held out.

The beautiful, indestructible mining pod had been built for hovering and deep digging through bottomless amounts of flesh and bone harder then most rocks not high-speed chases and fancy maneuvers.

The engines had been pushed to the limit and it was no small miracle the thrusters hadn't burned out. So slower and with sub-par maneuverability it was only a matter of time for the well placed, well timed, one-in-a-million shot to a main thruster on the belly of her pod.

As Philly went down, spinning out of control and doing everything in her power not to, she cursed colorfully, doing some mental calculation on how fast the other functions would give out.

Her life didn't flash before her eyes like people say happens but parts of it did come to mind. She regretted being bested by such…inferior opponents because of their larger numbers. And it angered her all she could do was crash land and play dead.

How humiliating. Peter would never let her live this down.

Philly reverted all the power that was left to the mining hands and let them dig into the nearby buildings. It was a rocky decent and the ground was approaching fast. She leaned forward, pressing herself flat to the racing bike seat and forced her body to go limp. There was only one horrible moment that Philly doubted her plan.

When the viewport tilted ever so perfectly to display the pavement she was about to crash into right before the pod jerked to a stop.

…

…

Carnage and debris peppered the roof, the Necto craft's engines moving away.

Slackers. The Zeldonian thought, both disgusted and relieved. Suddenly the power failed and the pod, that'd been swing by its mining hands, crashed the extra three feet to the floor level of the planet. Dumbly, she ejected and rolled unsteadily to her feet.

With no idea where she was, where she was going, or if her friends were still in the air, Philly stumbled off through the torn up streets of Knowhere with no direction in particular.