Transported in heavy vehicles to the outskirts of the city, the Guardians feel anxious, but ready. There was no way they would give fear and doubt a chance to distract them from saving Drax, their giant teddy bear. No way.
Nevertheless, they were just as eager to kick some ass. The Clan have beaten them for the last time.
It had been nearly fifteen minutes, and there were no windows in the car. They had no idea where they were going, nor how long it would take to get there, nor where it was they were even headed.
But they trusted Nova, and Nova trusted them. The only concern they held was for their friend.
"Well, this might take a while," says Peter from beside Gamora. He then fixes himself, pulls up her arm as she eyes him warily, then places his head in her lap casually, closing his eyes, as if resting even, as she just sat there, baffled at him.
She looks at Rocket and Petra across her. Rocket gives her a knowing wink. She rolls her eyes at him as Petra simply smiles, then averts her attention to Groot, who was pretending to battle her fingers, stood between her palms.
Rocket smiles at the two of them, then shut his eyes as well, leaning his head back, placing an arm over Petra's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. She smiles, leaning towards him and resting her head on his chest, listening to his quickened heartbeats.
She was so happy, she almost felt guilty for it, what with the current situation and so.
"How do you think Drax's holding up?" Petra asks, concern evident on her features and in her voice. From across, Gamora, who was subconsciously twirling strands of Peter's blonde hair around the tips of her fingers, she smiles sympathetically.
"Drax is a fierce warrior. He'll be holding his ground firmly," she tells, trying to hide her own fears for their friend, as the others were too.
"Plus. I'm pretty sure he's givin' them more of a hard time than they're doing with him," smirks Rocket.
"Yeah," Peter laughs out half-heartedly. "Let's just hope he doesn't ruffle all of their feathers," he then notes grimly.
The car grows quiet.
What if he had?
What if they'd had enough of his snarky attitude…and…
No. No.
Drax was fine.
He had to be.
Their adventures had taken dark turns before, but losing one of their own? It was too much.
"You know, after this crap's over with, we are in serious need of a break," notes Rocket. Peter cocks an eyebrow at him from Gamora's lap.
"That talk really comin' from you?" he asks, brushing off the fact that he had an arm around his sister, and Groot climbing his shoulder hyperactively with a mini-crossbow strapped to his small back.
"What can I say? Losin' the big guy just don't feel right," he says weirdly, never having thought it would affect him this much.
"Yeah," utters Petra sadly as Groot climbs down and Rocket halts him near his chest. Groot hugs at Rocket, whimpering sorrowfully for their lost friend. Rockets pats his back softly.
The car then jolts to a stop. Rocket debates shooting the driver. The Guardians fan out to blinding sunlight. Their vision improves to witness being stood in a hollow desert, surrounded by nothing but sand and dust and dead plants.
"I'm sorry, is this it?" asks Rocket irritably, heating up quickly because of the fur.
The commander, Rein, cocks an eyebrow at him. He then turns to one of his men. The Corpsman pulls a small, square object out of his belt, and throws it a few feet off as the remaining hundred soldiers huddled up behind.
Instead of dropping to the ground, the device latches on midair. A little electric buzzing and sparks,
it appears,
a camouflaged doorway.
The Guardians are both shocked and impressed.
Another man approaches the door and holds position near the opening-wheel. "Alright, men. Listen up," the commander speaks. "When that door is open, the enemy will have been notified, and will be on hold within. Heed caution. Kill on sight. Clear?" he asks.
"Sir, yes, sir!" the troops yell as the Guardians simply stand.
"Okay! Wow! Wait!" calls out Peter. All but his friends turn to him irritably. "Our friend is down there! Don't kill everyone in sight!"
"We are aware, mister Quill. No one's shooting your friend," Rein tells.
"Oh, well, then. Carry on," Peter says awkwardly.
"Smooth," Petra smirks as the soldier turns the wheel. Peter shoves her lightly in irritancy.
The door opens with a loud creak.
And in
they go.
Gun-fire!
Everywhere!
A war zone is what this was.
The Guardians and Nova soldiers fought back and forth, mostly forth. They were well-armed, well-trained, and a lot. Which was good.
But how much longer would they be able to hold the upper hand?
When the Clan brought out relic-powered weapons, things took a rougher path.
Peter jumps to the side just before a shot hit. It collided with the ground instead and vaporized a big chunk of it off!
Three others were able to transport from place to place, making them difficult to hold down. A few others fought back with fire-blasting guns. And the rest were regulars.
It takes the Guardians and Nova time to accustom to the situation, and become clear-minded enough to discover ways of dealing with the new threats.
Utilizing his knowledge in maths and physics, Rocket smirks, aiming at a certain spot from behind a metal crate. In a manner of seconds, a mercenary materializes in that very spot, only to be immediately shot down by Rocket's keen eye.
Groot stood on Rocket's shoulder, using his new bow to do the most damage he could by distracting the mercenaries with flying arrows which stung like sudden bees.
Gamora strikes daggers through the air and into the throats of two of those who held vaporizing-blasters.
From Petra's spot behind the corner of a wall, she shot down up to six mercenaries with her new and improved blasters.
Peter's throwing punches, and, soon enough, was able to grab himself a vaporizer, making the fight ten times easier as he vaporized most of those available.
After at least fifteen minutes of going through knots, they found themselves nearing the dungeons. The Guardians offered taking it over themselves in hopes of finding Drax along an interrogation room. They break off from Nova.
Peter takes lead, quickly climbing down the stairs, and evading just a split second before crashing into a man's flying fist.
Peter grabs the man's arm and twists it, Rocket blowing a hole through his skull, and Groot grimacing.
They fight their way past several cells, shooting all that was in sight, until a man in a lab coat appears from behind a desk, raising his arms in surrender.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off!" exclaims Rocket, aiming at him.
"I know where your friend is! The big one!" the man tells hastily, one of the scientists.
Weapon pointed on his back as he led the way, the man escorts them to a spacious, dimly lit room.
"Drax!" they all exclaim at once. The Destroyer's head hung solely front, his body limb, and hands cuffed behind his back on the chair.
The Destroyer comes to find Petra in his face, and Groot on his lap, as Rocket worked on the cuffs.
Yelling and footsteps overheard alerted the Guardians, causing them to jump to their feet as a shot flew directly into the scientist's head, rendering him dead.
Thinking fast, Petra throws down a smoke grenade as Rocket and Peter push Drax and the chair out of fire-range, and Gamora and Petra herself take cover.
The mercenaries shoot about the smoke randomly. And when the shooting stopped, out of ammo, the Guardians' eyes lit up.
Having finally freed Drax, Petra pulls out an adrenaline shot, and stabs him in the chest.
The Destroyer pushes out of the chair, eyes wild. He gives a mad roar, shaking the cores of those standing as he charged towards them in train-speed.
And once again, the Guardians unit,
daring to those who stood against them.
Most strength,
as one.
The clan didn't stand a chance.
And so, they spread about the facility, wreaking havoc.
Of course, hearing of the break in, Rod himself was inclined to act, even Victor,
but he was readying something bigger.
Rod walks in on the Guardians taking down most of his men with ease. Instead of marching in like the rest of the idiots, Rod looked ahead for a way to end this, or at least temporarily stop it.
Then, he sees her, far off from her group.
As the Guardians stationed themselves in different areas across the hall, they failed to notice the intrusion in the shadow.
"Behold!" shouts Rod, grasping the Guardians' and his remaining men's attention. "A fallen Guardian."
The five's eyes go wide with fear as they all stand witness, to a friend held captive.
Petra.
Stood behind her, Rod held her tight, cold metal of the gun's muzzle touching her head as she winced more in shame than pain.
"That's right. Weapons down," grins Rod. Rocket feels frustration ignite in his chest, evident on his posture of ears pulled back and tail held threateningly down.
Fearful, the Guardians push low, going mad with concern, and thoughts,
thoughts of action,
a way out,
a rescue plan.
But was there?
Or was that it?
How could they stop this?
Had they gone too far?
How could they save their friend?
How could they save Petra?
Thinking he'd won, Rod smiles.
Then, cries out in pain.
Keeping hold of Petra, Rod reaches his hand to pull a tiny arrow! out of his cheek.
He stares at it in disbelieve.
The Guardians grin…
Without wasting a second, Petra elbows Rod in the stomach. The Guardians raise their weapons. Peter and Gamora shoot behind at the remaining mercenaries, and Rocket and Drax shoot down Rod,
alas,
taking him down.
The room goes quite. Rocket rushes to Petra's side, helping her off the floor. The others approach them ethically, Peter scooping Groot off the floor. "Nice!" he grins, high-fiving the little guy as the others smirk at him.
Drax is stood near Rod's corps. With a scowl, the Destroyer lets loose one final shot to his head, simply out of frustration.
"Feel better, Drax?" asks Petra, smiling.
"Yes," he replies.
"We missed you, big guy," says Peter, engulfing Drax in a tight hug, and shocking him slightly.
"Yeah! Group it in!" says Petra, pulling Rocket and Gamora with as Groot climbed onto Drax's bald head and hugged it. The big guy laughs out
in pure joy.
"My friends!" he calls ecstatically.
A few minutes pass as the Guardians enjoy each other's company.
Then,
alarms
blare across the floors and walls. They pull apart, eyeing around suspiciously.
They hear yelling from outside, and head to follow down to a hanger, along with sixty or so Nova officers.
The hanger doors open,
revealing
an enormous,
fifty feet
robot.
…
"Holy hell," utters Peter.
War and chaos erupts across the floors. Nova fights the Clan. The Guardians against the robot. A battle with changing tides, and no certainty for any.
"Rocket! Petra! Options! Now!" yells Peter through the coms as the robot smashes and crashes about carelessly and ferociously, with Victor in control.
Using their Roosters, Rocket and Petra fly high up and round the robot's form, shooting when they could and avoiding crashing into it as it sought to take them down.
"Anybody else getting a sense of de ja vu?" asks Rocket. Drax grins, butt-heading two mercenaries, Gamora slicing about behind him, and Peter taking the high ground with Groot.
"Hey, Rocket!" calls Petra.
"Yeah!"
"I spy!"
"Hoho, hell yeah!"
"Weak hold!" she calls last, shooting at it, then rushing out of the way as, inside, Victor turns back to her furiously.
"Quill! We need a distraction!" Rocket tells.
"A little hard right now!"
"Figure it out!"
"Starlord!" shouts the commander. Peter turns. "We will back you and your team up. Take that thing down!" he tells.
"Roger that!" nods the Quill, smirking contently.
Peter clicks his radio, playing 'spirit in the sky' by Norman Greenbaum. "Okay, folks. Let's play some ball," he calls through. "Gamora. Drax. The three of us-"
"I am Groot!"
"Sorry. Four of us, are gonna keep the big one distracted, whilst Rocket and Petra enlighten us with a big, hopefully painful, for it, solution. Copy?"
"Copy," tells Gamora.
"I copy you, Peter," says Drax.
The four rush and spread out, Drax climbing up the beast with his daggers, ripping and smashing as he went. Gamora made way to any weak spot in sight. Knees. Elbows. Joints.
Peter, with Groot on his shoulder, kept in sight of its vision, causing Victor to concentrate on them as the others worked.
Below was a battle field between Nova and the mercenaries.
Petra and Rocket had been working on a part in the back of the robot's neck, probably leading to the pilot section.
As it refused to budge, Petra raised up a hand hold some good old sticky-dynamite. Rocket grins.
She throws.
He shoots.
And 'Boom' goes the hatch.
Inside, the Guardians dive.
Victor turns,
and sees his truth.
He'd lost this battle too.
Alas, it was over. The Clan had been defeated. The relics, confiscated. Victor, in custody.
And the Guardians, victorious.
Nova thanks them for their assistance, rewarding them handsomely, compensating for all they'd lost along the way, and more.
Strolling side by side back to their ship, Peter looks behind him momentarily.
Drax is having a laugh with Gamora. Rocket has his arm over Petra, smiling contently, with Groot on his shoulder, grinning.
Peter smiles proudly at them,
at what they'd become.
"How about that vacation, guys?" he calls. They turn their attention to him,
and smile.