I am about fourteen years old. People have told me that I am angry, arrogant, and rude. My height has always been about average. My straight, waist-length hair is a dark shade of obsidian that contrasted with my pale skin. Brown goggles sit about an inch above my bangs. I wear an old, black vest over a sky blue, short-sleeved shirt and black pants. My eyes are dark blue, just like my brother's. My baby brother. Maybe if I just stayed home as he said, he'd still be alive and with me right now. Maybe I wouldn't even be in this situation.
What is this situation, you might ask? Well, I had accidentally pickpocketed the wrong space pirate back on Xandar. Now, I am trapped in the brig of a barely functioning, ancient spaceship millions of light-years away.
The cold, metal walls ooze a strange brown, greasy slime. I stand in the center of the cell, staring at the guards on the other side of the bars. If I look at the walls, then the slime makes me nauseous. If I look at the ceiling, the yellowish hue of the dim lamp brings back memories that threaten free tears from my eyes. If I look at the floor, I have a bird's eye view of piles of greasy black fur and grey scales, presumably from this cell's previous - and likely much less fortunate - occupants. I'm left watching the criminals guarding the brig. I don't trust them enough to take my eyes off them anyway.
The two large grey, feathery humanoids seem to fit into the universal space thug stereotype I have observed over the past year. They're slow, dumb muscle. Likely perverts too. I know I could easily take down one of them, but not two. I probably should stay away from worlds without suns, but hitchhikers and stowaways can't be choosers, I guess.
After a few hours, I hear what sounds like an explosion and the ship begins shaking slightly. I think the stabilizers blew up or something. Stuff like that is probably normal on ancient spacecraft like this one.
I can hear the insectoid captain shouting over the p.a. system. Unfortunately, I can't understand what he is saying, because my translator earpiece ran out of power last week.
One of the guards squawks at the other, before rushing away. This is my chance. I slip a miniaturized emp from my pocket and use the last of its power to disable the cell's electronic lock and the remaining guard's taser. The light blinks out too, causing Feather-Head's eyes to glow a bright red.
Night vision.
Crap.
Instead of trying to fight, like I normally would, I focus my priority on escape. As I run through the rust-covered command deck, I notice that the pirates are battling another group of space thugs who're wearing red jackets. I know I've heard of the newcomers, but all I can remember is that they're part of a pretty extensive group. I keep an eye on the fighting to make sure I won't get caught in the crossfire. As I scan the battle, my eyes lock onto the pirate captain's. He looks like a ten-legged grasshopper that had grown to be two meters high and stands on his four hindmost legs. He raises his rifle and fires.
'Oh, no," I think before I collapse and everything goes black.
As I come too, I notice that I'm in a cramped room. The stale air tells me that I'm probably on a spaceship. I glance around at my surroundings. Like I said before, the room is cramped and very tiny. There is a set of bunk beds on the back wall, the lower of which I occupy. Directly across from me, a door stands in the middle of the dull, metal wall.
I stand up and walk a few steps forward. I was still a bit lightheaded from being shot, but I was still alive, meaning that overgrown insect had only stunned me. I lightly touch the control panel to the door and it opens easily. I walk out of the room. I'm on a small spaceship that I recognize as an M-class craft. They're typically used by a group of criminals called the Ravagers. They must have been the group that attacked the ship I was on. I climb up a small set of steep stairs into the cockpit.
A blonde-haired man was sitting in the pilot's seat wearing a set of ancient headphones, humming along to a song.
"Stevie Wonder?" I try my best to guess the artist. Pa and Kal had loved old music, so I had quickly made a game of guessing the name of the songs they played and who sang them. I quickly banish the memory from my head before it could bring tears.
"Yeah," the blonde man replies, removing his headphones. "How'd you know? You from Earth."
"No," I snap harshly. "I spent some time there, but, well, I don't like talking about it. Are you from Earth?"
"Yeah. Lost my mom just before I left. Did something similar happen to you?"
I glare.
"Guess so," he mutters under his breath before introducing himself. "I'm Peter Quill. Welcome to the Milano."
"Kata Jor-El," I reply flatly. I see a massive, run-down spaceship come into view. "What's that?"
"This is the Elector. The home base of the Ravagers."
"What were you doing attacking those pirates?"
"Those crooks stole a pretty big shipment from us."
"You guys are crooks and thieves as well."
"Yeah, but Ravagers have a code."
"Criminals with a code. Sounds a little contradictory." The small M-class ship docks with the behemoth Elector.
"Yeah, maybe," Peter stands up. "But part of it is no kidnapping, so I kinda have to drop you back on your homeworld."
"Just leave me on the nearest inhabited planet," I request, following Peter out of the cockpit.
"The nearest inhabited planet is in Kree space. So, where's your homeworld?"
"Don't have one," I reply hotly, as we walk through the corridors of the Elector
"Sure you do. Unless it blew up like Alderaan." At this point, I have to blink back tears.
"Oh, sorry," Peter notices my change of emotion and apologizes for his insensitive joke. We soon reach the bridge and approach a blue, human-like alien with a red fin coming out of his head.
"Yondu, this is Kata Jor-El, the kid I rescued from the Sonelec ship," the Terran introduces. "Kata, this is Yondu Udonta, leader of this Ravager clan.
"Well, where you from kid?" Youndu asks, as Peter frantically shakes his head, trying to warn the captain. "We'll help you get back to your family.
I harshly stare down Yondu as I make a decision that will change the course of my life, hopefully for the better.
"I want to become a Ravager," I announce.
"We got a code," Youndu states. "If we don't return you to your family, we'd be breaking it."
"You broke that code when you recruited me," Peter argues. "I was eight. Kata's like, what ten?"
"Fourteen," I correct, although Youndu and Peter are too busy arguing to listen.
"You didn't have any family," Youndu argues. "I took you in and raised you. If we can return Kata to her family, then we should."
"I don't have any family," I snap angrily.
"Well then, welcome to the Ravagers!"
I am granted a red leather jacket - the uniform of my new team. I am assigned the cabin I woke up on, as I am to help Peter with his heists. As I sit on my new bunk, I take my knife and slice off a majority of my long locks. Then I take some dye I had found a few days ago and spread it through my hair, turning it blue. I am no longer Kata Jor-El, Kara's shy cousin. I am no longer Superkid, Superman's younger sister. I am no longer Katrina Kent, the Daily Planet's youngest intern.
I am Kata, a member of the Ravagers.