Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Marvel.
The planet Morag was once home to a great civilization.
For centuries, the citizens worked together to develop commerce, build monuments, and advance the arts. But at the height of its culture, Morag's environment went through an ungodly shift.
Terrible storms of unimaginable power devastated the globe. Earthquakes thrashed across the lands, sea levels climbed, continents drowned, and the planet's crust deviated, becoming so unstable that Morag grew unhabitable. The inhabitants vacated the world, scattering across the galaxy to what new homes they could find. They left behind everything they built.
Over the centuries, cities feel into ruins, flooded, and annihilated by surging oceans and catastrophic earthquakes. The only visitors were adventures or archaeologists who could brave Morag's turbulent seas. Over time, the planet's upheaval lessened. Its seas receded again, exposing long-submerged ruins. Those ruins brought a different kind of traveler. Anyone who came on Morag still had to be gutsy and tough, but the capacity to breathe water was no longer a requirement. Now the planet's deserted riches were ripe for the taking.
A ship bowed through Morag's stormy atmosphere and suspended into landing at the canyon's edge. It latched itself down as heavy pins speared out into the rocky topography. The pins secured the ship steady against the howling winds. Its ramp lowered, and the pilot emerged into the storm.
He strode down to the remains of an ancient road. He sported a strange face mask, its red eyes blazing through the tumultuous winds. When he neared the edge of a ruined city, he pulled out a handheld device with a rectangular lens. It glowed a simmering blue.
He attempted to activate it, but it sputtered pitifully, refusing to turn on. The adventurer jerked it, dabbing it roughly, and it popped back to life, shooting out a bright field of blue light. It steamed in the rain. The pilot mopped the cone back and forth across the ruin.
Dozens of blue pinpoints glowed amongst the destroyed city's edge. Then the holo-mapping device fed those dots into its processor and designed a hologram of what the city had looked like during its last before it had been ruined. Grainy projections of roadways and structures hung in the air, shining red ghosts of a great city now centuries gone.
In front of the pilot snaked a road that led directly to a building near the edge of the hologram projection. On that building, a tracking lit up. It looked like a target, and that's precisely what it was: the target of this expedition.
The pilot tracked the road, parting through the hologram's ghosts of Morag's citizens. People went about their business. A little girl played with a dog. The pilot was surprised to learn that Morag's inhabitants were similar to humans.
He reached the ruined building and stepped inside, fleeing the rain. The wind still blew, but not nearly as furious in the enclosed space. Part of the roof had dipped in, and shafts of dim light shone down onto the rubble-strewn floor. The interior of the building was considerable, with thirty-foot ceilings and enduring pillars supporting them. Pausing a moment, the pilot glanced over the scene, and when he was satisfied he was safe, he touched the flank of his mask.
It disappeared with a crackle, leaving a patch of tech attached behind his ear.
Breathing a fresh bout of air, Ravager Peter Quill got down to business.
Smiling, he slipped on his headphones. Cracking on his Awesome Mix Tape Vol. 1, he fell into a grove. He tapped one foot, and soon, he was dancing, grooving his way through the ruin. The rain ceased, and he kept on jamming, moving across the open plaza at the familiar rhythms of the songs that kept him company for twenty-two years.
He splashed through puddles, kicked away a tiny pack of aggressive little lizard-like animals, and reached the edge of a massive crack in the ground. Maintaining his rhythm, he fired up his rocket boots, spanning a gigantic gap in the gash as ugly serpent-like creatures barked their teethed maws at him.
On the other side, he arrived at a sealed door. Peter Quill inserted a key into the lock. The key acclimated to the lock's chambers, and within five seconds, the door fanned, squealing. Finally, the door opened, revealing a smaller, hidden section alit by a blue containment tube resting on a pedestal.
Peter Quill took a transparent globe out of his Ravager Coat. Bright light glowed from within when he shook it, further illuminating the room. A breath, this time out of relief. He was alone. Good. He set down the globe and unhooked a triangular metal device from his sash.
In the many years since he was abducted from Earth by the Ravager clan he still served, Peter experienced quite a lot. He'd seen a planet made entirely out of fire with a moon made of ice. He'd seen an army of shape-shifting aliens called the Skrulls. Hell, he even watched as twin suns went supernova together. If Peter Quill was honest, it was a pretty freaking fantastic couple of decades.
He worked his way through the ranks of the Ravagers Peter was a measly deckhand and rose to being his captain's second in command. It was a pretty good life. Lots of adventure, always something new to see and do, but there was one thing he'd never been in all these years.
Rich.
If things worked here in the ruins of this ancient Morag temple, though, that would change.
Inside the brilliant blue containment field was a metallic Orb. Its surface was carved in a complex pattern. Peter had done a little research—well, more than a little—on this particular item, and although he didn't know exactly what it was, he knew a couple of things about it.
Firstly, the Broker would pay him a lot of money for it.
Two, it was exceptionally well-protected. The containment field would disintegrate anything that touched it from the outside. So, Peter decided to make it come to him.
That's where the triangular device came into play. It was developed to attract certain kinds of metal alloys electromagnetically, and the Orb was made of just such an alloy. Beyond that, Peter had no idea what it was for. He didn't care much, either.
He just knew that it would make him rich.
Peter triggered the attractor. It splintered into an open position, three sides of the pyramid turning into legs braced on the floor. The fourth side was the electromagnetic field generator. It whirred to life.
Inside the field, the Orb moved. It plowed slowly through the containment field, shedding tendrils of plasma as it pushed through each layer. Quill watched, ready to make a break for a good hiding place if there was another layer of security he hadn't noticed. You never knew what you'd stumble on when venturing inside decrepit ruins like these.
His time with the Ravagers had taught him that. Experience was a valuable tool. It's what separated the talented and the great. While both possessed talent, the great also held experience and common sense. More often than not, the talented only had their skilled attributes. That's what got them killed.
Peter Quill fully intended on making it to his thirties, and he was only two years away.
Thankfully, nothing went awry.
The Orb emerged painlessly through the outer layer of the field, then popped free. It drifted down to clink in to place on the attractor. Behind it, the containment field went dark.
"Ha!" Peter Quill shouted happily as he deactivated the attractor and plucked the Orb. He was so delighted to have his hands on the artifact that he could almost kiss it.
He might have done just that, except when he heard a voice growl, "Drop it!"
Shit.
Peter spun to see the Sakaaran mercenary Kohath flanked by several of his favorite goons. All of them had weapons leveled on him.
Double shit.
They were big and bad—especially Korath, who had some kind of machine grafted into his skull that amped his strength and reflexes up to unfair levels. They had him at a real disadvantage. The solution? Keep a cool head, and stall until he could make a plan good enough to escape. Preferably with the Orb.
"Drop it now!" Korath yelled. The other Sakaarans were shouting, too, but they didn't wear universal translators. Nor did he, so what they were saying escaped him. But judging by their rapid speech patterns and angrily waving their guns, he understood the gist of it.
"Hey, cool, man. No problem." Peter let the Orb fall to the floor. It rolled until it clinked against a stone block fallen from the roof. "No problem at all."
Korath picked up the Orb and brandished it at Peter. "How did you know about this?" he demanded to know.
"I don't even know what that is! I'm just a junker," Peter Quill explained. But, of course, that might have worked had Korath not spotted the six-pointed flame emblem on his coat jacket.
"You don't look like a junker. You're wearing Ravager garb!"
Peter sighed. That was the infernal problem with uniforms. The Ravagers were a gang of criminals that pulled jobs in this sector, and if you crossed them, you usually weren't heard from again. Peter was a Ravager, wearing Ravager gear. He hoped that might escape Korath's notice, but it seemed like Metalhead was keener than he gave him credit for.
"You better stop poking me," Peter said, growling at one of the mercenaries that kept prodding him with a gun every time Korath opened his mouth.
"What is your name?" Korath questioned.
"Peter Quill!" Another rough prod. "My name is Peter Quill, okay? Dude, just for a second, stop poking me with that damn thing!" he shouted to the mercenary to his right.
"You're coming with us," Korath decided.
"Why?" Peter dared to ask.
"Ronan might have some questions for you."
Ronan. That guy was bad, bad news. Peter didn't know a lot about the guy, but what he knew made him want to steer clear of him. Like, light-years away. Ronan was Kree and an angry one who tended to kill a shit ton of people. Peter did not want to be in a position where Ronan was asking him questions.
"Hey, you know what? There's another name you might know me by…"
Korath lingered by the temple doorway. "What is that?"
Peter looked him right in the eye and said, "Star-Lord."
Korath squinted his eyes.
"Who?"
The human faltered.
"Star-Lord, man! The legendary outlaw!" he added, hoping that might ring some bells. "Guys?" he asked the mercenaries as they chatted amongst themselves. They stared blankly. Right. They didn't understand what he was saying.
Korath's patience evaporated. "Move!" he commanded again, gesturing toward the door.
"Forget this shit," Peter muttered, ticked off. What good was reputation if they didn't know who he was?
Right at the moment when the Sakaarans fell for his wounded-pride act (totally just an act), Peter booted the glowing globe into the soldiers' midst. It shattered, splashing white-hot plasma over them. They screamed and thrashed before dying as Peter drew his blasters.
He hit the final mercenary in the stomach, then dropped Korath. The Orb bounced out of his hand. Peter scooped it up.
He heard a moan from the doorway and looked up just as Korath staggered to his feet and leveled his rifle at Peter. The energy bolt from the rifle would have disintegrated most of Peter's torso. If he hadn't thrown himself straight down onto the floor, landing hard enough to know the wind out of him. Instead, it blew a gigantic hole in the wall behind Peter.
An emergency exit in mind, he triggered his boots' rocket thrusters and discharged out through the hole.
Out of the chamber, he managed to get some breathing room. But his troubles did not end here. As he misstepped, failing to land correctly, he sprinted to his feet and reclaimed his equilibrium.
Peter raced to his feet and ran for his ship. Korath got to the hole in the wall, screaming at the top of his lungs. Peter peeked back and saw the alien commander leap a great distance after him. Seeing the intimidating distance covered by the man, he began to run just a little bit faster.
He needed to get to his ship before he neared if he wanted to survive. However, he noted five more mercenaries standing guard between him and his spacecraft, the good old Milano. They clamored, raising their rifles. Peter pitched the attractor at their feet. It illuminated, powering up in a split second. They crashed together over it, held fast by the immense force of the electromagnetic field.
A geyser burst in the shattered landscape as Peter vaulted past the magnetically stuck mercenaries. Another burst from Korath's rifle sizzled through the rain, which began falling harder again. While he was in the air, Peter hit the control. That opened the Milano's cockpit. He anchored at the base of one wing and skid through the opened hatch.
Groaning, he sat up and sealed the hatch. While he flashed his engines, Korath's pals finally broke the handle of the attracter. With Korath shouting over them, they set up some heavy-mounted gun in the landscape. Peter knew he did not want to be around when it was ready. Korath felt confident whatever that thing fired could destroy the Milano.
He got off the ground eventually and rolled the ship forcefully to the right as the crew fired the first shot from their cannon. It cracked under the wing in destroyed a rocky spire.
Peter hauled the Milano in a tight turn and threaded its main thrusters up. More shots from Korath's cannon tore through the storm as Peter accelerated out of range, giggling like a kid in a candy store.
Escaping from a dozen mercenary soldiers with a lost treasure he'd dug out of a Moragian tomb—man if that didn't add to the legend of "Star-lord the Outlaw," nothing would.
But his self-congratulations arrived too soon as a vast geyser erupted, maybe ten-thousand times the size of the one before, right under the Milano. It snuffed out the ship's engines. An atmosphere is he had to use air intakes, and the guys are turning them into water intakes.
Just great, he thought bitterly.
The Milano tumbled and spun back toward the surface. Peter bounced and rolled around in its spacious cockpit, wishing he'd have a chance to buckle his seat belt. Everything he had in his backpack was flying around helplessly. Peter thrust himself to reach the lever that would vent the intakes and restart the engines.
Escaping the mercenaries wouldn't do him any good if he smashed himself into pieces on the rocks. Peter strained just a little harder and got a hand on the lever. He blew the vents and used a lever to pull himself back into the pilot chair with it, with maybe fifty yards of spare. He turned the engines on again. The Milano stabilized, hovering, rocking the storm but well away from Korath and his goons as they fired up.
Peter sat back, breathless as he grinned, hugging his payday. You know, he never had something so small feel so heavy in his palm.
"Peter," a pretty Krylorian girl he'd picked up on his most recent trip to Xandar.
"Bereet," Peter gasped. "I'm gonna have to be honest… I kinda forgot you were there."
She flinched as if struck, wearing only an expression of hurt.
When he got his breath and regained his bearings, he got away from Morag as fast as possible.
Naruto arrived on Morag and overlooked the lonesome planet with a frown. The years had not done this planet well, he mused.
When he heard that Father allied himself with Ronan the Accuser, he thought he finally lived up to the Mad Titan moniker he received at the hands of the Xandarians.
Ronan the Accuser was a brute, a Kree zealot who became obsessed with his planet's politics. He grew furious with their perceived apprehension for the Xandarian Empire. Before he was banished, Naruto heard stories of the Accusers of the Kree.
The Accuser Corps, as some called them. They were a 'police' and militia who brought justice to those accused of crimes against the empire. Naruto was not fooled by such black and white descriptions. No, he saw the Accuser Corps in action once. A force of cruel extremists—the Kree's very own band of attack dogs. When they wanted someone to disappear or be publicly executed in the most gruesome fashions, they sent the Accuser Corps.
Ronan was the chief of that force. Each leader was appointed the title 'Accuser' at the end of their name. But when the Kree stripped him of that title and banished Ronan from the empire, he continued using it and brandishing Kree justice to the Xandarians, in particular. Whom the Kree just signed a treaty with.
In Naruto's opinion?
The Kree planned for this to happen. It was all too convenient in his eyes.
Oh yes, the Kree banished Ronan, the strongest and most savage Kree warrior, instead of executing him right after the treaty was signed. They knew Ronan would continue to slaughter Xandarians. Since Ronan was banished, they couldn't prove he was taking orders from the Kree. So, Ronan the Accuser was free to do as he wished. This left the Kree blameless and the Xandarians scrambling to deal with Ronan.
An endeavor they have failed miserably with so far.
Naruto despised politics, and he was once again reminded why.
Since leaving Earth, he scoured endlessly for the other Infinity Stones. Hunting down leads left, right and center. Almost all of them turned out to be nothing. Either lies piped by some overzealous storyteller or opportunists who sought to sell information. Wrong information.
Naruto heard rumors of an Infinity Stone on a lost planet called Morag. One that was fallen to time for one reason or another. He didn't concern himself with the planet itself or how an Infinity Stone could have been kept there. Naruto didn't have that luxury. He followed every lead he could find. That meant this one. He only hoped that this particular lead would bear some form of fruit. Naruto thought this every time he settled onto a new planet, a new settlement, or got ready to meet an unknown informant.
He docked his ship, the GA-TL1 Strike Fighter. It was a relatively small ship measuring sixty-four meters in length, seventy-five in width, and twelve in height. Shaped like a B2 bomber, with a sleek matt-black finish and two hidden engines in its bow, it was an elegant ship.
As he vacated his ship, he took a deep breath from his nose. Immediately, he caught on to a trail. Despite the heavy rain and violent winds, it took time for someone's track to diminish enough to escape his senses. Naruto followed the trail until he noticed tall-tail signs of a battle. Another sniff, and he caught onto several more courses.
One that was still fresh. Farm fresh. That meant they were still on Morag. And by his next whiff, he noted he wasn't very far.
Leaning against a rocky spire, a Sakaaran soldier clutched his chest. The spires' winding peak made for a decent roof. Moreover, it helped him partially escape the rain. The wind, on the other hand, spun on. The natural coldness on Morag, coupled with being soaking wet and assaulting winds—would spell doom for anyone stranded here.
The Sakaaran heard a rock fall behind him. His hand found his rifle, and he whirled around, only for the gun to get kicked out of his grasp. He gagged as a hand found his throat and was hurled up. The Sakaaran only felt fear as he stared into those icy blue eyes.
"Who are you?"
"GAH! It's not like you can… understand me! I wouldn't tell you anything if you could!"
A slit opened over the blond's pupils. "I can," he spoke Sakaaranian, widening the man's eyes. "And you will."
A blade descended on the Sakaaran, and screams of pure, unadulterated agony filled the terrain.
Moments later, Naruto entered a gloomy temple. The rain hissed in his ears as it rattled off the stony building. Naruto paused, wincing as he shut his eyes. Then, repressing his senses, he blocked out the rain before a migraine could come on. He flung him into the empty pedestal as he dragged the Sakaaran mercenary into the temple.
"Where is the Orb?" Naruto demanded with no small amount of severity. When the mercenary refused to speak, he jutted a small knife into his leg. He must have hit a nerve cluster because he screamed.
"Some junker by the name of Peter Quill! He took it! Korath tried to stop him!" he rambled frightfully, clutching his knee.
"Korath?"
"My boss!"
Naruto frowned. "Who does Korath work for?" They were mercenaries. And mercenaries always worked for someone.
"Ronan the Accuser!"
Naruto cursed lowly. If Korath was working for Ronan, and Ronan sent Korath and his men here, they knew what was within the Orb. If they were chasing the Orb, that could only mean one thing—it was Infinity Stone.
Father was once again on the hunt.
That was both simultaneously elevating and terrifying at the same time. Considering that Ronan was a new ally to Father, there was a massive possibility that Ronan would give Thanos the stone once it came into his possession.
He needed to find this Peter Quill immediately.
"Where did he take it?"
"Huh?" he asked drowsily, no doubt from the blood loss. Naruto stepped on his knee, electing another scream. He was alert now.
"Where did he take it?"
"To Xandar! The Broker is willing to pay a hefty price for the Orb! But you won't make it there in time! It's only a matter of time before Korath gets there first!"
Naruto growled, summoning a blade, and cut his throat. The mercenary's hide rolled off to the side as Naruto flew back into his ship, rapidly activating the engines. A few furious taps later, he was off—course set for Xandar. Then, just as he was about to order the console into gear, he was yanked out of this plane of existence.
Naruto glared up at the gargantuan fox barricaded behind thick metal bars as he found himself in a familiar sewer, knee-deep foul water. Light golden engravings etched into the steel. Deep within the cell, Naruto saw a pair of menacing red eyes.
"What have I told you about bringing me here against my will?" he questioned. "I gave you more freedom. Don't make me regret it."
The massive nine-tailed fox scoffed. "Freedom," he said, spitting out the words as if they tasted horrible on his tongue. "You speak of freedom while I remained trapped in here!"
When Naruto was nearly slain in battle years and years ago, he met the creature for the first time. The only name he was given was 'Kyubi.' As he would come to learn, the Kyubi was a mass of sentient energy that was sealed within him at birth.
"We made a deal, you and I," he said wearily. "You would give me some of your power when I need it in exchange for freedom."
"Yes, you've done a bang-up job on your end."
"We both know that the only way I have of freeing you would kill me," he quickly said back. The fox rolled his eyes. If Naruto knew that, he wouldn't have made the deal. He was many things, but he wouldn't outright manipulate the fox.
"And you've been searching for other ways, haven't you?" the being asked rhetorically. At his momentary silence, he snorted. "That's what I thought."
"I think the universe takes more precedent over you and me!" Naruto came close to yelling. The fox repeated its previous actions. "The Infinity Stones must be found and not by my father! It'll doom us both, and you know it." the blond glanced down. His reflection stared back into the murky waters. "You've seen them."
Flashes of images popped in his head, making his brain throb.
"Yes, prophetic visions," he growled. "They're not real, boy."
"Ever since that Bag of Bones bitch took me from the Elemental Nations or whatever the hell you call it, I've had those visions." Naruto didn't know why, but the Kyubi got a rise out of him. He prided himself on his stoicism and self-control. But whenever he talked with it, it was like he couldn't control the words that came out of his mouth. "So don't tell me they're fake. They're real, and you know it. You're just too afraid of Father to admit it."
"As are you!" the Kyubi barked. That man held enormous amounts of power that would make even the Sage of Six Paths cautious.
"Damn right I am!" Naruto yelled back. "He terrifies me, and I'm alone against him! The only hope that we have is finding the stones before he does and sending them as far away from him as possible."
"Or you could wield them," the fox proposed as if it was the most obvious choice. "Use your father's prize against him."
Now it was Naruto's turn to snort.
"I tried. Don't you have access to my memories? I touched the Mind Stone, and it raped my mind." He went quiet for a moment, thinking back to when Father first obtained the Mind Stone years ago. "I haven't been able to sleep right since. All memories you buried for me? They're back. And whenever I sleep now, I see them, like it's some fucked up movie. At least before, I had visions. Those were consistent. Now, every time I sleep, it's like one big fucking gallery of torture!"
"Are you done?" Kyubi drawled, uninterested.
Naruto took a deep breath, frowning at himself for that outburst. "Yeah. Yeah… I'm done."
"Good. There are more important matters to focus on."
"If you bring up our deal again—"
"Cut me off again, brat, and I'll scramble your brain like eggs." Naruto balled his fists. The monster could do it. Although he ought to know, he did the opposite for him once by locking away some of his worst memories. "Your body should be strong enough to bear at least one stone."
"I'm not using the stones," Naruto said adamantly. Even if he could, he still wouldn't.
Kyubi growled, jumping forward until he near hit the bars. His dark-red furred body was exposed to his gaze.
"You and that pride. You're more than happy to take my power. Why not the damn stones?!"
"My parents died sealing you within me. At least, from what you've told me. Your power is mine, just as my power is yours. We're the same person." Naruto pointed to the various runic engravings on the walls and the bars. "Our souls are interlocked. That means we're of the same body and soul. The only point where we differ is our minds. The stones are weapons. That power isn't born from you or me. I don't want anything to do with them."
"But you use those powers you acquired from that metal garbage running through your veins."
"I didn't have a choice back then," he whispered, but he did not look away from Kyubi's gaze. Flickers of the memories plaid in his mind. Held down, restrained on a cold metal slab, being physical altered in such an excruciating way. Naruto exhaled shakily. "But I do now."
"You'd let trillions die over your own selfish pride?" Kyubi asked, amused. He was about as evil as one could get. Kyubi knew sin like few others. The sin of pride was not one he was unfamiliar with. Even personally, the kid had a pair of brass ones; he'd give him that.
Naruto entertained the question, eying his reflection once more. Contemplative, he ran quiet. Surprisingly, Kyubi allowed him to stew in his silence. Then, a full minute later, Naruto glared up at him.
"If I have to choose between trillions of lives or using the stones to kill my father... Thanos, I will choose the latter every… single… time. But until then, I will not stoop to his level. Thanos will die at my hands. Not at the power of the Infinity Stones, but by my own."
Kyubi grunted, his newfound respect for the boy vanishing like sand in the wind. Bored, he lay down in the water, his nine tails twitching in the infrequent breeze. The sin pride was one of his favorites. He thought the human was finally accepting his sins.
Seems not, he yawned disinterestedly.
"If you want to stop your father from getting those stones, you better get to that Orb before his lackey does."
"That's the plan," he replied, turning around, believing their conversation to be finished.
"And brat," the Nine-Tails called out. Naruto half turned. "You better not lose to that Kree freak. If you do, I'm cutting you off. I'm sick of saving your putrid life."
Naruto shook his head, moving to exit his mindscape. "You saved my life once. Years ago. And not once have we talked without you holding it over my head."
When the blond disappeared, the Kyubi stared down at the spot he previously occupied. A snarky grin stretched across his maw. It was a smile of all teeth.
"It's kept you alive so far, hasn't it?"
Head down; the beast fell into slumber. He would wait patiently until an event worthy of his interest transpired. Then, he would awaken.
Hours later, with the ship set on course for the planet Xandar where he would meet the Broker, Peter sat in the pilot chair. Peter idly tossed the Orb into the air, repeatedly catching it. The way he had watched baseball when he was a kid.
As usual, he was rocking out to the Awesome Mix Tape Vol., which played in a stereo tape deck. He got custom-made on Xandar a few years back. He showed the guy how it worked—at least as far as he knew—and how the Milano was a space-faring concert hall. Peter daydreamed of what he would do when the Orb had made him rich as he watched the holo-news.
The Kree Empire was in an uproar over a peace treaty the emperor had signed with Xander and, by extension Nova Prime, the head of the Nova Corps. In this part of the Galaxy, they were the law, a cadre of take no prisoners, tough guys who are about the only thing keeping the Kree in check.
Peter was considering the situation, hoping things would stay calm on Xandar long enough for him to make a deal with the Orb, when a video call interrupted the holo-feed.
There was Yondu, the leader of his band of Ravagers. And the person responsible for kidnapping Peter from Earth, and he had to admit for more or less raising him afterward.
Yondu was a blue humanoid with a Mohawk-shaped ridge in his skull and severe anger management issues.
"Quill!" Yondu yelled. The Centaurian always yelled.
"Hey, Yondu," Peter replied casually.
"I'm here on Morag. Ain't no Orb, ain't no you."
"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood. I thought I'd save you the hassle," said Peter. He had to keep Yondu talking for a minute while figuring out how to handle the situation. The thing was, Peter wasn't supposed to leave Morag, much less take the Orb for himself. Shocker, right?
The Ravagers—meaning Yondu— cut the original deal with the Broker, and Peter decided it seemed like an excellent opportunity to strike out on his own. The problem was, Yondu wasn't going to see it that way.
Yondu's eyes narrowed. "Well, where you at now, boy?"
"I feel really bad about this, but I'm not going to tell you that." Getting those words out was tougher than he expected. Peter respected Yondu. He liked the like guy even if he did kidnap him as a kid.
Yondu's face twisted. "I slaved making this deal!"
"Slaved?" he scoffed.
"And now you're going to rip me off?"
"Make a few calls is 'saved'? I mean, really, Yondu?" The Centaurian's eyes looked like they were about to pop from his skull.
"We do not do that to each other, boy! We're Ravagers! We got a code!" he thundered.
"Yeah, and that code is: steal from everybody," Peter felt the need to remind him. It's exactly what Yondu had taught him all those years ago.
"When I picked you from Terra, these boys of mine wanted to eat you, damn it! They never tasted no Terran before. I stopped them! I saved you!"
"In case you forgot, I was kidnapped!" Peter jabbed his finger at the screen. "I wouldn't have needed to be 'saved' if you hadn't taken me!" Just as Yondu's sneering face twisted even further, Peter made a slashing gesture, cutting off the call.
On Morag, Yondu turned to the Ravagers, a swirl of emotions brimming in his gaze.
"Put a bounty on him!" Furious, Yondu turned to his Ravagers. "Forty-grand! But I want him alive!"
"Alive?" Horuz echoed his lieutenant and but hardly an old friend.
"That's what I said." The Centaurian stomped back toward their ship.
"I told you when we picked that kid up you should have delivered him like we was hired to do!" Horuz raged as he followed his captain. "He was cargo! You're soft on him!"
Yondu whirled back around, furious. "You forgettin' that job was what got us excommunicated in the first place?! And you're the only one I'm soft on!" he yelled, flipping his coat and exposing his arrow. Horuz froze. The dart glowed red-hot, and Yondu could telepathically control it. A thought would send it flying to strike any target.
Yondu's gaze lasered on Horuz's forehead.
"Now don't you worry about, Quill," he said lowly. "As soon as we get him back here, I'm going to kill him myself. What we need to worry about is who else out there wants that Orb."
Hanging in the blackness of space, the Dark Aster looked like a cross between a battlecruiser and a fortress. Wherever the warship appeared, it brought fear. Whole planets were evacuated based solely on rumors of the Dark Aster's approach.
It wasn't so feared because it was one of the most heavily armed warships ever created—it was, but that was beside the point—but because it was the flagship of none other than Ronan. Some knew him as "Ronan the Murder"; others as "Ronan the Bitcher", and "Ronan the Warlord." All these names were meant to slur Ronan for his cruelty. But they pleased him, and there was one name preferred to all the others.
The title "Ronan the Accuser."
Ronan looked upon the people of this galaxy and accused them of the greatest crime he could imagine—weakness. Ronan was Kree, a member of an empire that had once dominated vast sections of the galaxy. He was tall, intimidating, strong, and dwarfed those around him. He was the perfect specimen even among the immensely powerful Kree. Robust in body and mind. His will was unchangeable, his principles absolute.
"They call me a terrorist, radical, zealot because I obey the ancient laws of my people, the Kree, and punish those who do not."
Ronan rose from a cleansing pool of midnight-black fluid. His attendants gathered around him to anoint his body with sacred powders and apply the mask of the Accuser to his face.
"Because I do not forgive your people for taking the life of my father. And his father, and his father before him. A thousand years of war between us will not be forgotten!"
This speech was addressed to a prisoner, who knelt in the chamber, his upper body restrained by a heavy steel collar tautened around his neck. He could hardly turn his stare. The prisoner was a Nova Centurion, a member of the Nova Corps, the Xandar-based law enforcement agency that policed the galaxy.
Fully outfitted in his armor and the cowl of his office, Ronan shifted to face the prisoner, who glared definitely up at him.
"You can't do this! Our government signed a peace treaty!" he protested.
"I bow to no government. Only the ancient ways," Ronan whispered. He despised the Nova Corps for their power and because they represented everything he hated about Xandarian civilization. The weakness, the cowardly use of diplomacy to avoid the righteous fury of war, and the inherited power of the Nova Force. "The Xandarians and your culture are a disease."
Ronan held out his hand, and one of his attendants handed him his hammer. It was a meter long that channeled his power. But it was also a symbol—his symbol. The government of the Kree might not recognize him as Accuser any longer, but Kree tradition did.
"You will never rule Xandar!"
"No," Ronan said whisperingly. "I will cure it!"
The hammer fell and squashed the Centurion's head to a bloody pulp. Blood seeped down from the contraption and into a drain bearing a sigil of the ancient Kree.
Nebula, daughter of Thanos, waited in the shadows while her associate administered his justice. "Ronan," she said when he finished. "Korath has returned."
Ronan met the Sakaaran in the Dark Aster's throne room, flanked by statues of the Accusers who had come before him. Also present were Nebula and Gamora, another of Thanos' daughters. Both of them were here as Thanos' representatives.
Both Nebula and Gamora were pitiless assassins who would do whatever Thanos commanded—and whatever Ronan commanded, as long as it coincided with their orders dished out by their father. He listened as Korath reported his failure to obtain the Orb due to the interference of another.
"Master, he is a thief, an outlaw who calls himself Star-Lord," Korath explained. "But we have a discovered he has an agreement to retrieve the Orb for an intermediary known as the Broker."
"I promised Thanos I would retrieve the Orb for him," Ronan murmured, troubled. "Only then will he destroy Xandar for me." He stood, determined. "Nebula, go to Xandar and get me the Orb."
The woman bowed to him. Once, she might have been considered beautiful. Before the cybernetic parts were implanted into her face, and before the metal arm had replaced her real one.
"It will be my honor."
Stepping forward, Gamora said, "It will be your doom." Aiming a glance to Ronan, she continued, "If this happens again, you will be facing our father without his prize."
Unlike her sister, Gamora was a beauty that was rarely found. Tall, athletically bodied with great curves and an impressive bust, a remarkably attractive face, sharp yellow eyes that told a thousand bloody battles. Her flawless green skin matched well with her green hair. The latter of which had been a darker shade. It appeared almost black in a certain light.
Yes, Ronan considered. That was a problem. As great as his strength was, even he knew not to cross Thanos the Mad Titan.
"I am a daughter of Thanos, just like you," Nebula cut in.
"I know Xandar," Gamora pointed out, her tone just as cutting as Nebula's speech.
"Ronan has already decreed that I—"
"Do not speak for me," he hailed, and the two's mouths snapped shut. Ronan stepped to Gamora. "You will not fail me."
Gamora almost smiled at the warning in his tone.
"Have I ever?"
Okay. This was the arc I mentioned in the last chapter. It will last at least... five, maybe six chapters if my vision of it is correct. No prelude/flashback in this chapter. Honestly, I couldn't come up with anything to write, but I have an important flashback next chapter planned out. I would have written it in this chapter, but I decided that chapter five will be a better fit.
Now, I asked for feedback on the matter of giving Naruto an EMS and the Rinnegan, and I was not disappointed. While the poll is still eighty-percent in favor of the idea, I have also listened to the reviews. Which I believe are split slightly in favor of the idea as well.
The reason why I prosed such an idea is simple. I love their abilities, the appearance of the eyes and Dojutsu are really fucking cool. Plus, they fit him. Also, the Marvel universe is filled with OP characters. Even the MCU is pretty hardcore, but compared to the comics, it's nothing.
Power scaling in the MCU is vastly lower. Characters are weaker, and some even lack a few of their core abilities or characteristics. While this isn't purely Marvel Comics (so I am not directly using their power scaling either. I am using my own, Naruto needs additional abilities, and fast), combined with some MCU and EMH events and whatnot.
The EMS and Rinnegan, as well as Six Paths Sage Mode are abilities from his home universe, but also kickass powers. They would give Naruto some hax abilities, boost his power, and broaden his horizon beyond just throwing swords and flying. But this is would not be his last (hypothetical) power-up. I already have something else planned as well.