Hello all,
First off I want to thank all of you people for supporting my stories by following/favoriting, leaving a review, or just reading; it means a lot to me. Second, from observing my past patterns and how much free time I seem to have, I'm going to try and post on a bi-weekly bases. However I cannot make any concert promises. And lastly, I hope you all enjoy this chapter
"Can I come?"
"No."
Philly's hopeful smile dropped and she twisted to shoot a glare sideways, "Why not?"
"Because you'd get in the way." Rocket answered simply, not looking up from his custom blaster that was half-way unbuilt in his lap and in the process of being cleaned. They were in the Milano's cockpit, Philly flying and Rocket in the co-pilots seat. He claimed it was the only quiet place to work. Which was true enough, everyone else was downstairs doing whatever they did when they were in deep space.
"Peter lets me come."
"And when he goes off to do whatever it is you guys do, you can go with him," Rocket replied, "Bounty hunting is dangerous and a lot harder then bone picking and if you still complain about your one day in the Kyln there'll never be an end if you come with."
Philly huffed at the jab and at the insulting term for one of her chosen professions. "It'd be the nice thing to do."
"I don't do nice things." He countered.
Philly frowned and demanded, "Well what should the rest of us be doing while you and Groot are hunting bounties?"
"I don't know, whatever you feel like." Rocket shrugged, unsnapping a small component and holding it at his eye level for inspection, "That's not my problem."
"You should take us all with you." The Zeldonian pressed further, "It'd be a team building exercise."
"No."
Philly closed her lips together in a thin line and counted to three. She switched tactics.
"But it would be good for Peter to not be in charge for at least one mission."
…
"Alright here's the deal." Rocket marched down the loose line the others had formed in the cargo bay. His clawed hands were clasped behind his back. Five pairs of eyes followed him as the bounty hunter reached Peter at the end of the line and turned on his heal to march in the other direction. "I'm in charge. That means you all do whatever I say, when I say, no exceptions. Got it?"
The question got a chorus of 'sure' and 'yeah', along with a few shrugs.
Rocket raised a skeptical eyebrow and tested, "Jump."
Groot obeyed almost instantly, along with Drax and Philly who was willing to do anything to see some action. The sudden motion caused Peter to lose his balance and land on his backside with a slew of curses. Gamora, who remained effortlessly standing, crossed her arms and jutted a hip out, a motion she'd most likely picked up form Philly.
"Eh, close enough." Rocket decided, nimbly climbing onto Groot's shoulders "Let's get a move on."
The two led the way down the gangplank and onto the surface of Needhart. It was a small independent world run as a democracy. It had no native people that were remembered so Needhart was heavily colonized but only inhabited in a few places so there were only seven major cities.
They had landed in the smallest of these called Brorsc, only classified as a city because everybody thought it was too big to be a town. The streets were cobbled and scattered with uncollected trash and the buildings were all at least three stories tall and smushed together almost like they had been stood up on their sides and melted together in the sun. It was a possibility given how hot it was here. The soft the landed on Brorsc was in the middle of the planet's summer which was only made worse since Needhart was already the second position from the sun in it's system. However, it was a centrally located planet and opened to almost anyone so it was overtiming with refugees from planets that had been destroyed or were over run.
"How do propose we find our target?" Gamora asked, carefully not voicing her own methods. Her eyes were fixed on Groot's back and Philly wordlessly passed the green skinned woman her sun hat. It had a wide brim and covered Gamora's face nicely.
"We ask around, check places a fugitive would go." Rocket shrugged, "If we shake it enough something's bound to fall out."
"What do we shake that will aid us in our quest?" Drax asked in the serious way he had.
Peter patted the destroyer's arm, "It's just an expression. We only focus on the first two."
"…I am Groot." The tree man corrected.
"In most cases." Rocket agreed. "Anyway, the guy we're looking for is a Tolala, average hight for his race with dark red skin and white stripes. Any questions?"
Tolala's were a slender species with no hair, webbed fingers, and wide gills on their necks and hips.
A few hours later Rocket had them all positioned at various locations around the city in pairs. Peter and Drax were posted at a food store, they browsed slowly and bought some supplies while they were inside. For the ship. Gamora and Philly were assigned to check out hotels and living spaces rented out in the last two days. The girls seemed the least threatening and could pretend the Tolala had dated both of them and they were looking to confront him. Philly's story got more elaborate the more places they checked out and Gamora standing behind her and looking uncomfortable only helped sell thing bit.
Rocket and Groot went bar hopping, strictly for business. They asked around the more seedy places for a man fitting the placeholder's description and only they found a lead.
It was their sixth bar of the night and was a little more run-down then the others in the area. They saw their target sitting at the bar, with his eyes fixed on the exotic dancers featured on the stage. He looked like he had not a care in the galaxy.
Groot asked if they should call the others.
Rocket scoffed, "Why? This is textbook bounty hunting, if we can't handle this we might as well retire."
The furred being sat down at an empty table with a view of the door and the target, and Groot picked a chair that didn't block his view. This place was seedy and filled with people who were looking to make a quick chunk of units. If there was a scene here it wouldn't end well for anybody. So they waited for an opening. Or really they waited half an hour before grabbing the target by the scruff of the neck and dragging him outside.
…
With no luck and it steadily getting dark Gamora and Philly headed back to the Milano to find Drax and Peter sitting on the lowered gangplank. They had an assortment of snacks spread out and three glasses a piece, each with a different drink.
"Wow." Philly said, plopping down next to Peter and swiping some cookies form his hand, "you don't waste any time, do you? What's the occasion?"
"I figured if we caught our bounty we could celebrate…and if we didn't we'd need some cheering up."
"You did not have luck either?" Gamora asked the two males.
Peter shook his head, "all dead ends."
"We didn't find anything helpful either," Philly reiterated for the slightly puzzled looking Drax.
"Then I suppose we celebrate our failure?" the destroyer asked looking at their Terrain companion."
"Something like that." Peter shrugged and tossed Philly and Gamora unopened bottles the latter glared at the object like it might spring to life and bite her nose off.
"Don't worry," Philly assured cracking her's open with a snap and a hiss, "Non-alcoholic."
"It's fizzing." Gamora noted warily, almost accusing.
None of the others responded so Gamora, after giving the bottle one last intensive scrutiny, took a small sip. She found it pleasantly tangy with a just enough sweet after taste.
"Xandarian soda-pop." Peter answered when she asked what it was. Gamora took another sip and another, analyzing for alcoholic or any other reason to not drink. She couldn't find any and took a larger gulp. It gave Philly and Peter time to snicker behind her head at the sight of a widely feared assassin drinking something meant for younglings.
The two males told Philly and Gamora about the local food markets and complained about the prices and all the walking. The girls in turn told them about all the places for rent and average living costs.
Through all the chatter and catching up they lounged on the lowered gangplank and watched the stars start to come out, one by one after the sun finished setting and it was safe for them.
It was beautiful to watch on a planet that only had seven major cities and there weren't many lights to compete with them. But by and by, Philly found herself watching, not the sky, but the clock. Rocket and Groot should have been back hours ago and as the time went on and either of them showed up the atmosphere began to somber with the rest of the team's mood.
"They should have been back." Gamora said. Though she played the pronoun game, they all knew who she was talking about.
"Or in the very least contacted one of us." Drax added. Philly pulled out her comm. for the umpteenth time and saw out of the corner of her eye the other's doing the same. None of them had any missed calls.
"Okay," Peter stood so the other three had to literally look up to see him. "They were going after bars, right? We'll go ask around and see what places were open all through the afternoon and see if any of them remember seeing a walking tree and a Rocket with a bad attitude. They're not easy to miss. Philly you and Gamora start down-"
Peter's take charge moment was interrupted by Gamora's comm going off. It was only her's so whoever it was was using Gamora's privet comm number. "Hello?" the assassin asked; her tone was tight and professional. "Rocket." Gamora said simply to the others after a moment. Peter, Drax and Philly visibly relaxed however slightly and pressed closer the the green skinned woman to hear.
It was a mistake, however, because the next thing out of Gamora's mouth was a disbelieving, and very loud, "YOU'RE WHERE?"
Wincing, Peter moved his jaw to try and get his ears to pop, "that doesn't sound good."
…
Across the city in a very dinky prison Rocket hung up his one phone call and let himself be escorted back to the primitive but reenforced cell. He took up the seat next to Groot who couldn't hear the complete sentence the smaller bounty hunter grumbled under his breath but could make out a few explicits here and there.
"Just open the door." Rocket said at a more then audible level, waving a hand at the cell doors that could easily be torn off..
Groot reminded him they had a team that was on their way and that they shouldn't have ditched them.
"We don't need them." Rocket snapped stubbornly, "You and I have always done fine on our own."
They weren't on their own anymore, Groot reminded.
Rocket scoffed, "Yes we are. Or at least we will be."
His taller companion asked what he meant.
"You ever notice there's a distinctive pattern when it comes to us and teams? It doesn't worked out, never has never will."
Insistently, Groot said that maybe this time would be different.
"You saw how we were all at each other's throats last week. You call that a team? I call it a time bomb." Rocket folded his arms stubbornly and fixed his glare at the doors as if trying to melt the bars with ill will alone.
They were learning, Groot reminded and added pointedly that they were all learning.
"We all gonna go up in smoke while Quill is learning?" The smaller bounty hunter shot back.
Quill was trying, Groot countered. So were Drax and Gamora. So was Philly.
"Quill and Blue both think every problem in the galaxy can be solved by friendship and sparkles."
They might not be completely wrong, Groot suggested.
"they're morons, all of them."
They why did you call them?
"Because you wont open the firkin door!" Rocket yelled back. "just do it already, I want to go home!"
To the maroons.
Rocket growled lowly and didn't answer, he saw the tree man had backed him into a verbal corner but refused to admit it. Finely he let out a heavy breath through his nose , "it's not that I completely hate them." He said gruffly and tilted his head up to look his friend in the eyes. "More like sooner or later someone's going to get fed up enough to just leav- Wait, what are you eating?" the tree man froze mid chew with a wide-eyed expression not unlike a youngling who had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
"Did you put something you found in a jail cell in you mouth?"
Groot franticly shook his head which, just like every other time he tried lying, made him look incredibly guilty. A commotion on the other side of the thick door saved him from whatever Rocket was going to say.
It was about five or six males, all yelling at the top of their lungs. After a moment of listening Rocket could pick out Peter's voice, and if he strained Philly's, but none of the words anyone was saying.
The thick door to the room where the jail's three holding cells, the two bounty hunters, and one sleeping drunk were kept, swung opened and hit the wall with a loud clank.
Dressed, not in their normal pirate like garb but business clothes of all things, Peter and Philly strode into the room tailed by a trio of uniformed officers. In almost perfect unison they stopped so the officers nearly collided with them and spun around.
"Let them go at once." Peter demanded in a clipped and serious tone, waving his hand toward Groot and Rocket's cell.
"We-we can't do that, sir." A plump man told them.
Philly's eyebrows rose, "And why not?" she asked in her most condescending voice, stepping forward to completely invaded the man's personal space.
Startled, Plumps stepped back and opened his mouth but only an unintelligible stutter came out. A younger and just as unsure man spoke up instead in a hesitant, confused voice, "They were arrested. We can't let them go until we get orders on what to do with them."
"Orders?" Philly echoed.
"What to do with them?" Peter asked. "Do you know who these two are?"
"Sir, I don't even know what they are." The young officer answered truthfully, taking a half step back now that the pair's attention was directed at him.
"We are from a non-profit organization that exists solely to protect the rights of visiting aliens. These two are from Faketion." Philly said with a completely straight face.
Peter picked up from where she left off, "We understand that our clients were charged with assault with murderess intent. Are you aware that Falutions greet each other with a sound smack to the cranium?"
"It's a common mistake." Philly said
"Happens all the time." Peter agreed.
"But completely unacceptable." The Zeldonian finished resolutely.
"And outrageous!" Peter all but screeched, "you would not believe how much Falutions are discriminated against just because of their traditions."
Peter and Philly started ranting at the same time and saying completely different things making them seem very threatening and very hard to understand. Rocket caught words like 'false arrest' 'suspension' 'superiors' and many BS paragraphs and page numbers in a book that probably didn't exist. The three officers were overwhelmed and so green they might have not even fully graduated yet and had been left alone by a negligent superior; they didn't stand a chance.
Twenty minutes later Peter was ushering Groot and Rocket out the door while simultaneously dragging Philly by the arm behind him. She was still yelling at the top of her voice and threatening to have the bewildered officers suspended.
"If I have to come back here to deal with any of you, mark my words, I won't rest until I have all your badges and you're scrubbing bathrooms with your toothbrushes!"
The present doors swung shut behind them and it was only a half a block before Philly and Peter dissolved into snickers.
"Do you think we might have over done it?" Peter asked, undoing the cheap plaid tie around his neck.
Philly giggled, straightening the front of her blazer with a sharp tug, "Maybe a little. But man, we were in the zone!"
"We were!" Peter agreed, "And so in sync."
"So in sync!" Philly echoed, grinning and skipping as best she could in the tacky heals she wore. "You two alright?"
"Where did you guys come up with that?" Rocket asked instead of answering her.
"We winged it," Peter said at the exact same moment Philly said, "Yondu taught us."
The two briefly glared at each other before resolving into giggles and laughter and they relived the past few minutes over and over all the way to the Milano.
Rocket didn't say anything more, even after they had gotten back to the ship. He silently returned Gamora's frosty glare and for once had no thinly failed insult for Drax's blunt disapproval.
No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave this planet so he lingered in the doorway of the loading ramp and sat through the most exaggerated retelling of the "jail breakout", as Peter and Philly were referring to it. Drax was adding to the conversation, shouting words that didn't make sense where he added them or questioning when one of them used a phrase he didn't understand. Gamora's glare had melted away and she was nodding along as she sipped her drink.
Sitting under the stars on the lading ramp, sipping at the drink that Philly had tossed him, was…not negative, he had to admit, to be ho…here. With the maroons.
