Two person Job: Rocket and Drax's day.

If there was one thing that Rocket hated, and there were in fact many, it was cops. And that groggy, sick feeling you get when you've slept too long in the middle of the day. And shoes. And People who frickin' messed with his stuff, Quill, because I had a system and it was all sorted before you came along and moved that soldering iron, messing up my stuff with your big hairless hands stomping around with your big clumsy feat and don't you dare touch that, numbnuts, ya' wanna die? Me, no. I'm fine. Piss off. No I slept just fine. I dunno, maybe it was Groot you heard crying, I slept like a log…

But Cops were right up there.

Unfortunately, like that groggy feeling or Quill cops were just an inevitable fact of life you had to live with, particularly if a large bald visibly armed, visibly blood covered tattooed man had just stolen a hovering buggy and steered it across town in rush hour pursued, at least part of the way, by hovering drones .

In their defence, Rocket and Drax and Quill had promptly called the emergency serves as well as Nova, to try and sort this out before heading out. Against them, however was the fact that the SWAT team they had summoned to the EIR headquarters was communicating on a different frequency from the rest of the police, to maintain operational security. As a result, the first responders who turned up at the Milano had no idea that the guardians were there, or who they were, or that they were co-operating with the police fully and were a vital part of an ongoing security operation at the highest level. They just heard that someone was driving erratically across town in a stolen vehicle covered in blood and armed to the teeth.

Having followed the reports coming in, the first responder arrived at the spaceport, tracked the stolen vehicle to bay 616, and discovered a highly armed vessel in the colours of a well-known pirate outfit broadcasting a clearly fake Nova diplomatic ship ID. Being a good cop who did their job well, officer Athan Co' promptly called it in and requested SWAT backup, because there was no way she was going to start a ruckus with the Ravengers without a lot more muscle on her side. Finding that the SWAT team was already being deployed elsewhere, and the riot squad on crowd-control duty for the new NES 6 neural communicator launch, so she had to make a call about how to proceed. Should she and her partner wait for back up, or intervene now?

She had just decided to wait it out and observe the situation, when the ship's lower airlock opened up, and a figure dropped out and begun to walk purposefully towards the abandoned buggy. It looked like their suspect, and by gods, he was as huge, armed and blood covered as described. Her partner popped to seal on his door of their hover car when she reached out and took his arm to hold him back. "Look" she said.

It wasn't one figure, but three figures. Her and her partner stared. The man seemed to be accompanied by some sort of bipedal cat, and a walking shrub, both about a meter tall. The furred creature was visibly carrying a firearm of some description, and was leaning on the tree for support, clearly wounded.

They watched for some time.

"What the fuck?" asked her partner after a moment. His name was Gil, and although he was young, he had only one week until retirement. For psychological reasons. From what was about to happen to him. Namely Groot.

"Okay, set Blasters to stun, I'll cover the big guy, you take the two… whatever the fuck those are. Follow my lead."

"Gottcha." He said, as they slide out of their car and moved behind a wall of stacked starship ballast. Moving parallel to the three aliens, they waited until they were as close as they could get to the buggy, but had a good angle on them so none of them could get behind it, or back to their ship, without exposing themselves to fire.

"Skitterfall PD! Hands where I can see them!" yelled Athan Co', popping up about five meters from Drax and levelling the blaster right at his face. Her partner popped up about two meters from Groot and Rocket, who swore, Loudly, long-ly and quite inventively. Poor Gil, who hadn't been expecting it to talk nearly shot him there and then out of sheer shock.

Co' kept her aim steady on the big guy, trying not to get distracted by what was going on to her side. The Man looked badly beaten up, and was covered in blood, and holding two knives, but what shocked her was most people, even suspects you cornered at blaster point, looked pretty glad to see the police, as a rule. It was that sort of planet. Even for a career criminal, the police showing up meant that nothing could go further wrong, that the situation couldn't escalate. You found two people on the streets in a brawl outside a bar, and their friends holding them back, and although they kicked and swore, you could see that they were deep in their hearts glad to see you. It was the same as how they never actually seemed to be able to break free from the friends holding them back and reach the other guy: deep down in their hearts, most people didn't want to get into a big fight. It was dangerous, it was scary. The cops showing up gave you permission to not fight without losing face. They gave you permission to walk away without looking week. It gave you an excuse to put down the brick, and walk away. Even the mobsters and street thugs looked relieved when the cops kicked their doors down, after the initial shock wore off, because of all the people who could kick their door down, it was the ones who used due process, it was someone who lawyers could make go away, even if only for a while. Even the desperate, the fuck-ups who robbed a liquor store and found themselves in an armed standoff with hostages taken, didn't really want a fight, because once you've gotten yourself into that position, it's not like it's something you planned, and you can be sure that if you do start anything you won't live to finish it. Hostage negotiators were basically just less-threatening cops: they never actually talked anyone round to giving up the hostage, they just gave the hostage taker an excuse to do so, a way of doing so without shame. A way out where they could tell themselves that it was okay to step back from the brink without feeling like a coward.

The only people who really wanted to fight you were the crazy's. The ones with the mad glint in their eyes, just looking for an excuse. Then it was all flipped around: they wanted a reason to kill someone, and suddenly that uniform was a reason to attack, not back off. But generally, they were so strung up on whatever drug in their veins or voice in their head that they were pretty poor fighters. It was the one or two per hundred that weren't that gave old cops the nightmares and young cops the scars, and after one look at the big guy's eyes, she understood that he was one in a thousand, if that. He was calm and cool and collected, and there was a cold fury behind it all that she hoped never to see again.

That said, she didn't particularly care for the little one either.

"…Motherreaming frickin' cops!" he finished giving Gil, who was too young to know bad news when he saw it, the long, slow look of someone who could already see you in the ground. "All the dumb luck in the world, and you manage to stay downwind of me without knowing? Well kudos, kid. Ya. Got me. Now get the fuck out of our way, clocks tickin' and we're the good guys now, star's help us."

"Hands where I can see them!" screamed Gil. "… paws… tendrils… just stick them up."

Rocket snorted and stuck them up, furrowing his brows and glancing from Gil to Co' with the air of someone who has just found a hair in his soup: only mildly inconvenienced, but still more than willing to make someone pay dearly for it. Drax made no move to put his hands anywhere but on his knives. Rocket glanced over to him.

"Hey, we're the frickin' good guys. Just call Nova and see. Drax, let me do the talking here, and we'll be out of here in five-"

"Five too long. We are leaving." Said Drax moving forwards towards the buggy. Co' charged up the blaster to maximum stun and waved the buzzing weapon in the tattooed giants face.

"Freeze! Drop your weapons and put your hands where we can see them!"

"Hey listen lady, you've got this all wrong, we're the frickin' Guardians of the Galaxy, you just call Nova Prime and ask… aww fuck that sounds like the worst line ever even to me, but if you just listen…"

"Gil, you shut that walking plushtoy up and call it in, find out who the hell this vehicle is registered too and why it's so heavily armed. You stay right where you are princess."

"I am not a princess, the concept of monarchy is outdated! And we are leaving. Aid us or do not, but do not stand before me." Said Drax, stepping towards the cart. Co' moved to block him: the only reason she hadn't fired was because she just just knew that if she did she would have a real fight on her hands.

Gil, trying to keep it together, kept his aim square on the furry one who was giving him the eye, as the check on vehicle tail number came back.

"Vehicle is registered to a Peter J Quill AKA Star-prince. A terran. Not these guys. "

Hostage? Murder? Stolen Vehicle?" thought Co'.

"And I suppose you guys wouldn't have any sort of clue as to where this Quill might be, yeah?" she said, licking her lips nervously and wondering whether or not to just stun the big guy and hope she could turn fast enough to help Gil if the other two moved.

Drax frowned.

"Of course we know where he is. Inside the ship, where Rocket drugged him, with three broken limbs."

"Awwww Crap." Said Rocket, face palming. "Of all the flaws, why did it have to be honesty? Eh Groot?" said Rocket. Drax thought he said Groot strangely, elongating it the same way Groot himself did. Groot looked to him, tendrils still raised, and nodded.

"Get on the ground! Now!" Screamed Co' moving forwards. "Central, we need medical back up at our location, possible poisoning!"

"Rocket, we agreed not to let people stand in our way…"

"Yeah, we did. Didn't we Groot?" said Rocket, watching as Gil moved towards him, blaster aimed and drawing power-cuffs with his other hand.

"Hey kid." Rocket said. "The problem with tellin' people to put their hands up is some folks have more than two sets of limbs. Now Groot!"

Gil had just enough time to flick his eye down to the tendril creeping up his trouser-leg before it flicked upwards taking him with it and sending the ship-ballast block he was heling and his blaster flying. Co' fired instinctively, the exact same moment that Drax threw the knife and by luck or skill the stunner hit the knife mid-air, defecting both, when Rocket flicked the gun of his back and dropped her with two quick electro-bolas to the chest with quick, fluid movements he knew he'd pay for in rib-pain latter.

Although perhaps not as much as her, he though smugly, stepping over her and helping himself to her blaster as she writhed and swore. He took her com's kit as well, the better to monitor police frequencies with.

Drax retrieved his knife, noting that the electrically charged rounds hadn't damaged it, and nodded to Rocket as he got into the buggy.

"So you can, in fact, communicate with Groot. We had been wondering if you just made his side of the conversation up."

"Really? Why does everyone do that at first? Yeah I can, but don't tell Quill. I still wanna be able to have Groot calling out his hand to me when we play poker." Said the racoon, hopping up into he cart and shoving Drax out of the driver's seat. He drove like an old lady. He looked down at the pedals, so far out of reach, and shuffled back into the passenger side glaring.

"Frickin' sizeist fascists. Hey Groot, put that down, you don't wanna know where it's been." He called, as Groot looked sideways at the bundle of tangled vines strapped tight to his chest that was officer Gil. Groot nodded eagerly, and then his eyes crossed in a worried looking way.

"I… I am Groot." He said, sheepishly

"What? You've gotta be fucking kidding me! Hey Drax, we might have a problem."

"What is it now?"

"Well, heh, it's kinda funny really. You remember the other day when Groot grew Quill those chopstick fingers, and couldn't shrink them down again? And I said that because of his growth-spurts he was having trouble controlling his size and shape?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, well about that: he can't let go of the cop. He's gotten himself all knotted up and he can't shrink the vines down or un-knot it."

Drax stared. A less literal person would have asked if Rocket was joking, but the idea did not even occur to Drax.

"Can we cut the vines free?" Rocket shook his head.

"He's put too much of his biomass into it. If we do, he'll lose weeks of grown and won't be able to fight." He said, as officer Gil, realising that he was stuck fast, groaned in fear thought the vine-gag Groot had put over his mouth.

Drax frowned. "In that case, could we not cut away the offending pieces of the police officer…"

As Gil groaned and begun to kick at this, Rocket snorted and shook his head.

"Love to, but Groot has opinions of hurting the helpless. It I couldn't convince him to hurt folk who weren't fighting back in all these years, you're not gonna now."

Both Drax and Rocket looked at officer Gil as Groot, laboriously, pushed his way onto the cart, a three foot tall tree with a six foot bundle of vines with a policeman's head sticking out to the top growing out of his chest. Drax, experimentally, took the gag-vine out.

"Let go of me you freaks! Do you have any idea the sort of trouble you'll get into for kidnapping an officer of the la-"

Drax put the gag back. He looked to Rocket. Rocket looked back.

They both shrugged. And Drax started the buggy's motor, and they headed off into the night.


The long-slow sunset of that world had finally ended. The dark had come.

The offices of EMI were eerily quiet by the time they arrived. They pulled up slowly, and stopped just outside of the perimeter. Wincing at the effort, his short legs wiggling, Rocket pulled himself up onto he cart's roof, and stood there for some time, nose and whiskers and ears all that moved, tasting the freshening night air. After a moment he climbed down.

"It's bad. The place reeks of blood and fear and plasma-discharges. And it's way, way too quiet. Whatever happened here we missed it."

"I am Groot."

Rocket looked sideways to his friend, who nodded to Officer Gil, who was staring and truing to gesture with his head. Rocket followed the man's frightened eyes.

There was an APC in police livery lying abandoned by the side of the road, half hidden by undergrowth and the growing shadows. Worryingly, all the doors were open, but the vehicle itself was undamaged. Not a scratch. It had just been abandoned.

"Drax…"

"I see it."

"Drax, there's another three parked up over there. Four hurry-up waggon's full of Cop's just don't vanish."

"There is a new communicator launch today. Perhaps they needed a new NES." He said. He noticed Rocket looking. "A joke. I am learning."

"Ah-huh? It's a neural smart-com launch, not a donut fair. Trust me, as a general rule cops ain't that interesting in tech until someone works out how to break the law with it." he said, looking across the empty desolation of the EMI headquarters. "And even then they're usually too late. So how do you want to do this?"

"There is only one entrance."

Rocket sighed. "I guess there is." He said. He then held up his thermobaric device. "We should make more. "

Gil made a very, very frightened sound.


Back at the spaceport Peter Jason Quill was roused from a pleasant a cool sleep by a heavy pounding. For a while, he thought it was in his head, before he groaned and rolled over. Mad Max was set somewhere less dry than his mouth.

"Goddammit Rocket. I have got to stop waking up in puddles of my own drool because of you." He muttered to himself, pulling himself up by his good arm and finding, on the third try, the panel for the coms. He activated it and blearily looked at the female Kylarian in the police uniform the intercom showed to be outside the lower airlock, before buzzing her in, on the basis that it couldn't make things worse.

Officer co' Paused, as the door buzzed open. It could be a trap.

"Police! I need to use your coms to call for backup, my partner's been kidnaped. When I come in, I need to you step away from the doors and raise both hands ."

"Yeah, not going to happen lady." Said Quill, showing the camera his casts.

Officer Co' paused. "Are you Peter Quill?"

"I prefer starlord, but yeah. Do I know you?"

"We tracked some suspects to your vehicle. A large tattooed male, a small furred mammal and a… a tree. They confessed to drugging you." She said. "Do… do you need me to call our date-rape support unit?"

"What? lady, what the hell is wrong with you? That's my crew. And no, no I don't. I was in prison with those three, if nothing happed then, then it's not gonna. Who they hell are you? Are you here about the thing at ERI?"

"What?" asked Co'

"That thing? Evil flying hubcaps. Mind-control rays, the usual. I called the SWAT team, I think. And Nova. Do you have any aspirin?"

This man is clearly a dangerous lunatic. Thought Co' backing away from the vehicle and looking for something she could use as a weapon. I need to get in there and secure him, use his com to call in and report.

Quill, meanwhile, had lost interest and dialled Rocket to try and find out what the hell was going on.

"Hey Fuzzball what the hell do you think you're doing drugging your captain like that! Who do you think you are, Kevin Koch?"

Rocket, having scouted out a good position to place the thermobaric device and spent twelve minuets sneaking over to place it without the two drone-controlled SWAT officer noticing him, yelped and tried to mute his com, just as the two officers heard him and turned.

Quill listened to a few moments of swearing and heavy breathing, followed by a flurry of plasma-fire and the answering chatter of Rocket's gun , followed by a bang so loud the com cut out.

Quill paused, and hauled himself painfully up to the cockpit and groaned at what he saw. The ERI building wasn't visible at this distance, but the clifftop it was on, overlooking the city, was. And something had just lit about a quarter of its top on fire, sending clouds drifting out over the indigo sunset sea. Oh god's it's a deep purple album cover Quill thought.

"Numbnut!" yelled Rocket's voice down his ear. "Ya just made me drop that off short! it went off the cliff! I could have been killed!"

"Oh I'm sorry. I'll try to remember to ask before I call you next time I wake up after you've drugged me!"

"… yeah, how the hell are you awake? You should be out for another few hours. No Groot, my left! Left, this side, the side of you with the cop stuck to it!"

There was the sound of wood splintering, and a very meaty scream, suddenly cut off.

"…sorry, where was I? Yeah, you should still be out! That dosage should floor a terran."

"Yeah, and holding an infinity stone for twenty seconds should vaporise one. Half terran, remember? I guess I'm a little more resilient to drugs. "

"Meh. It would explain how you can match me and my bod-mods drink for drink and not die. Why are you calling, Quill Kinda busy Drax six o-clock!"

"… no it's not. Even given this planet's idiosyncratic measure of time-"

"Frickin BEHIND you! So how did you really wake up?"

"Lady cop knocking on the door. Said something about a kidnapped partner?"

"Oh great. We've met her. Not kidnaped per-say. More sort of involuntary incorporated into Groot. Long story. Look, it's going pretty bad here Quill, get over here and help, or get off the line."

"Oh sure, I'll just ignore all the drugs you pumped into my system and fly over, shall I? Friends don't let friends fly, or involuntarily drug them Rocket!"

"Except right before they need to appear before a Nova committee?"

Quill huffed. "That was entirely different. I thought I was helping. And you were annoying."

"Get the ship over here Quill! We're getting our butts handed to us in installments!"

"I'm crippled! I can't work the helm!"

"Use the autopilot Quill! I know for a fact if there's one thing you can do it's operate a computer one handed!"

"Have you been at my browser history? No, it won't work, even if I manage to program it, I can't work the weapons or landing systems. What good will going there be if I can't fight or land? "

"Well get someone to help! We need to go in to save Gamora, she's activated her signal, but without that thermobaric we can't bust in except thought the main door, and that means walking through the middle of that stupid circular garden with hostiles all round us!"

"Who am I gonna get to help me?" yelled, Quill. Then he paused.

Co' had just found a heavy iron bar and was about to try and sneak into the lower airlock of that ship, when the inner door popped open and a head stuck out, startling her. She swung reflexively, narrowly missing Quill's head.

"Whoa! Officer, hey I'm unarmed, see?" he said holding out his casts.

"Who the hell are you people!" she hissed. "That cliff just exploded, and I just managed to find a pay-com, and the network's jammed with some random signal, the entire city's. where the hell have you taken my partner?"

"You want him back?" asked Quill. Co' glared suspiciously, narrowing her eyes, and then nodded.

"Okay, then let's go get him. Just one question." Asked Quill.

"What?"

"Can you drive stick?" he said, holding out the remote control Rocket had made for the Milano back when they dealt with Ker.


Drax stepped under a spinning disk, slashed at it with his knives, and leapt sideways as Rocket shredded it with a short burst of gunfire as he jinked around another one and then flung himself flat in the cover of the sculpture at the centre of the garden with Rocket. Plasma shots pinged and sparked of the concrete and brass, and if there was any consolation to their position it was that the gunfire would if anything leave the architecture less ugly that it was at the start.

"We appear to be trapped here! Any clue as to where in this monolithic architectural monstrosity our green skinned comrade in arms may be located?"

"Wha?" shouted Rocket, leaning around the corner to trade shots with a drone controlled Swat officer and scientist, dropping both with well-placed rounds. To his ire the drones just detached and flew at him, forcing him to bury his face in the wood-chip and mud of the flower-bed as they sored past.

"Where is Gamora?"

"No frickin' clue! She must have activated that beacon, but' I can't get a lock on it. It's moving up and down. I think she might have left it in an elevator… frankly, I'd settle for whoever is controlling these da'sted drones! Groot, any luck?"

"I am Groot!" said Groot, burrowing into the soil and batting away drones with one over-extended arm. Unable to shrink down, he was becoming increasingly misshapen with each time he reached out to attack. Officer Gil, covered with about a quarter of the first SWAT officer to try and ambush Drax, was not helping matters and he wigged furiously, no doubt not loving being stuck to Groots chest as he drilled himself into the ground.

"What? What does he want?" asked Rocket, glancing over to the police officer, now just a head sticking out of the flowers. A small clawed foot kicked him in the face. "Okay bub, what is it?"

Groot took the gag off. "Oh gods, it tastes of sap. Look, if we're gonna fight these guys, can I at least have my gun back? I'll help I promise!"

Rocket considered Gil for a long moment.

"No. I don't trust you. You gotta earn it." He nodded for Groot to put the vine back in, if he still had that much control.

"Top left!" yelled Gil, as the vine went on. "Top left!"

Rocket glance up, and blew the drone out of the sky. As he did, he thought he saw a female shape duck back from an upper story window. Isha. He thought. Great, all we need now is for Drax to see and lose it, and I'm toast.

But it wasn't Isha Drax saw. He tapped Rocket on the shoulder, and nodded.

Baz Sandhurst stood in the doorway of the building, as the firing stopped as suddenly as if it was switched off, which it was, Rocket guessed, as the swat officers froze up instantly. He was wearing the shredded remnants of a lab coat which billowed and snapped behind him like a cape, and a blue and grey suit of powered armour, and in keeping with this world's aesthetics he'd added some ridiculous looking shoulder-pads and, more worryingly, a combat helmet. Rocket pinked a shot of his chest, experimentally, and he didn't even flinch. And with the drones orbiting his head he couldn't get a clean shot at his exposed face.

Sandhurst smiled, and spread his arms wide, dramatically. "Well young master Rocket, to do believe it is in somewhat poor taste to fire upon your host." He said, squinting thought the gathering dark to try and catch a glimpse of the racoon. "Why don't you show yourself and we can talk about this in a civilised manner? You may even get your green friend back if you do."

The night seemed to consider this. There was no noise for a long time.

"Get bent." Called a voice in the dark, and the sound of some small creature shifting in the dark.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you? Perhaps I misused you name? How rude of me. Would you prefer 89P13? Or perhaps you prefer J-"

A brief spurt of bullets smashed into his armour, forcing him to raise his had to protect his face as the drone he'd put in front of him were shredded, but he laughed. And laughed, and laughed.

"Oh forgive me? Still a touchy subject I see? No matter. We can discuss it later, in my lab will discus it later, I can promise you. Your abilities to resist the effects of the mind control are interesting and, well, I have friend who are concerned for your health. "

"What part of get bent didn't you understand?" a voice snarled. "I know who you're working with and I can tell you, I am never going back unless it's to take that dammed infinity stone and burn that entire planet down to its core! Half a world is half too much!" snarled Rocket, shaking with rage.

"Smug little fuck knows I can't get thought that armour with a regular gun. Knew I should have brought the hadron enforcer." he muttered to Drax.

"can you know just blow him up with that grenade?" asked Drax, pointing to the canister of explosives on the Racoon's belt. Rocket looked at it, and snarled. "Spray on det cord. My plan b for getting thought those walls if the thermobaric didn't work. Like it didn't . but you need to be right on top of the target to use it, it's basically explosive silly string for making improvised detonators or shaped charges." he said, punching he sculpture in frustration, and cursing and looking up at it as he scuffled his knuckles. It was a big brass globe, two meters across, with the ERI logo embossed on it.

Rocket grinned, and pulled the can out and gave it a shake to mix the binary explosive clink-clink-clink.

"Hey Baz! We decide to come in peacefully, what grantee is there you won't just kill us all first change to get?"

"Research subjects as valuable as you are? Don't make me laugh."

"Well, personally I'd rather frickin' die, but let me talk things over with the guys. Heh, you really think you've got us, don't ya?"

"Oh yes, you're cadged like the overgrown lab-rat you are. That's the trouble with opposing the like of us. we're scientists, I'm a certifiable genius, actually. I like to stay in control. I always have a plan."

"Hey genius?" Said the voce in the dark. "Plan this."

There was the crack of det-cord, and a brief flare of light around the narrow blade of concrete that held up the sculpture in the centre of the garden, and the Brass ball fell of the top and begun to roll towards Sandhurst.

At about one mile an hour.

He stood, and smiled. "It that supposed to be some sort of threat to me?"

"Not just yet. Groot?"

There was a sound like the ripping of carpet and the rich scent of freshly dug soil, and Groot's vines popped out from the earth in a giant coil and shoved the sphere like god's own pinball.

Sandhurst just had the time to notice the can of det-cord glued to the orb with its own spray as it rolled into view, before two tons of bronze rolled into him and ploughed through the glass and steal wall behind him taking him with it.

"Surprise!" yelled a voice, as Drax ran along behind the orb, Rocket perched on his shoulder, Groot and gill following like it was buy-one-get-one-free on gross-species conjoined twins . Rocket shot once as they sprinted into the building and turned down a corridor, hitting the can just as it disappeared into the building. As they leapt into the side corridor the explosion picked them up and shook them, covering them in plaster dust and turning everyone into either moving ghosts or statues.

Drax and Rocket looked around in the haze, watching the scientists and swat officer in the corridor stand stock still facing out the shattered windows to where they had been before, awaiting orders.

Rocket, panting and feeling that this time he really did need a rest, looked around satisfied.

"Well, I think that about sorts it, eh Drax?" he said, turning.

Drax was staring down the corridor. Isha stood, still as the other statues, at the other end. Before Rocket could say anything or raise his gun, she bolted and Drax was after her like a hound on a rabbit, spilling Rocket onto he ground.

Rocket swore. He then swore louder as a swat trooper turned towards him and raised its gun: he guesses Isha had some control over them too. He fired, wildly, as they suddenly closed in, those silent figures, white with plaster closing on him grimly raising their weapons , and for each one he shot down another seemed to close in Groot tried to hold off as many as he could, even Gil seemed to be trying to help, biting one on the ear, but there were too many, and Rocket felt a foot near as large as his chest stamp down on his gun, felt his mouth go dry, and looked up in time to see a snarling Swat officer raise up a baton about to crush his skull-

-and slump over convulsing, with three others, as the living statue at the back of the crowd swept her hand over the back of their necks gently, the ceramic knife barely nicking them. Gamora stepped over them thought the dust and threw the knife, dropping the one Gil was trying to gnaw.

Gil looked down at the hairpin embedded in the skull an inch from his. "Oh gods what's wrong with you people?"

Gamora leaned down and lent rocket a hand getting up, whipping one sweaty hand across her brow and removing enough plaster dust to leave a green streak. She noticed Gil and gestured towards him.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Gil, Gamora, Gamora, Gil." Said Rocket, panting as he leaned on his gun like a crutch. He noticed a water cooler in the wretched corridor, and waddled over to it, standing on tip-toes to reach the tap, he gave it a quick wipe and begun to drink right out of it, with surprising delicacy.

"Oh help me please, me and my partner were just answering a call they've kidnaped me and knocked out officer Co', and I've been in here for an hour and I've been buried and shot at and in fist fights and they won't give me my gun back and my nose is itchy and a really really need to pee!"

Rocket Nodded and Groot re-gagged him.

Gamora stared. She was tired and sore and covered in blood, and this made her angrier than it really should have.

"Did you kidnap a cop?" she said, turning on Rocket sharply and pointing. "I'm risking my life on a legitimate, law abiding mission, and you kidnaped a cop? Are you joking Rocket? Because I have had enough of your shit."

Rocket stopped drinking, replacing little slurp, but didn't move his head away from the tap. "Cop? Nah, Groot just grew another head. We're having it pruned next week."

"Rocket!"

"Well it's not like we've been having a real great day either!" He said, gesturing. "I've got a bunch of broken ribs, a chest wound that itches something fierce and I just had to tranq Quill to stop him charging in here like a grox in a porcelain factory, and he woke up somehow and is flying here as we speak, and we've just lost Drax on his little vengeance quest! The kidnaped cop is the last of our frickin' problems! No offence." he said, turning to Gil. "I'm suppressed you lasted this long, frankly." He turned away from the cooler. Groot had grown a ting finger straight out of the gag, and was scratching Gil's itchy nose for him. Somehow, this did not seem to have re-assured the man. Rocket sighed, despairing.

"I am Groot!"

"No! You can't keep him! We've already got one pet, and we can barely clean up after Quill as it is!"

There was a thunk noise, and Gamora and Rocket looked out the window. The Milano had just landed on the pad, Quill and an angry looking policewoman viable in the cockpit.

Gamora pinched the bridge of her nose. "Recreational kidnap aside, we need to deal with this situation. There is a big transmitter somewhere in this facility that increases the rage of the drones, possibly over the whole city. We need to find it and take it out. You also need to warn the city police and get and keep them on our side. Drax can deal with Isha. Can we take out Sandhurst?"

Rocket grinned. "Already done."

Gamora frowned. "You sure?"

"Well, I dropped a couple of tons of bonze on him and then it exploded. I don't think he's getting up after that."

There was a groaning noise from the rubble at the other end of the corridor, and then the big brass ball was boldly hurried out of the wreckage and bounced along, missing both Rocket and Groot so narrowly it brushed against Gil's nose.

Rocket and Gamora shared a look, and begun to sprint away from the building towards the Milano. Groot following close behind after a seconds pause.

"I am Groot!" Groot said sadly as they Ran, glaring at Gil, who looked mortified

"I'm not surprised, he said he needed to go, and after that ball missed me that close I nearly did too! And quit whining you big baby, you probably need the nitrates as it is."

"I'm not even going to ask." Said Gamora, diving under the wing of the Milano and smacking away an angry drone as it spun past her head. Groot scooped up rocket, becoming for the briefest of moment some freakish Cerberus, and then leapt into the lower airlock. Gamora was hot on his heals, and found herself being helped up by a strange woman.

"Thanks." she said, as she sprinted up to the cockpit with her. "Who are you?"

"Athan Co', Skitterfall PD what happed to the SWAT teams?"

"Dead." said rocket, leaping into the pilots seat. Co' glared.

"Give me back my gun so I can shoot you."

Rocket laughed. "Hardly the best pitch sister , ya wanna end up like the Swat teams? No? Then let's get moving." He said, as Quill hobbled up the stairs and glared at Rocket as he begun to arm the ships weapons.

"So what happed? And where 's Drax?" he asked. Rocket snarled back "Hey, I'm working here! Can only one person be pissed off with me at a time?"

"First time for everything." Muttered Quill, noticing what Rocket was doing and helping him hit the arming switches.

"Peter!" said Gamora. He looked up just in time to see Drax Charge across the landing-pad after Isha, when the figure of Sandhurst strode out of the rubble to meet him.

"So… how strong is he in that power armour?" asked Quill, squinting.

Sandhurst caught Drax's blade in one hand, and threw him like a rag-doll. He got caught mid-air by a pair of drones, who tied to fly him over the cliff, but he fought them off and fell, landing on the Milano's hood with a tump, some twenty paces away from where he started. The guardians and the police stared as he coughed blood weakly.

"Well, I guess that answers that." said Rocket, as Gamora popped the cockpit bubble and Groot dragged him into the cabin and started checking his chest.

"I am Groot!"

"Oh jezz, he's coughing up a lot of blood! Is it his lungs? It's his lungs isn't it?" asked Quill.

"I… I bit my tongue." Said Drax, thickly as he tried to sit up.

"I am Groot!"

"His lungs are fine. "Translated Rocket, powering up the ship and turning it to face Sandhurst, and arming the guns. Sandhurst just smiled, and two swat officers marched to his sides and aimed at the ships cockpit.

"Wait." Said Quill. "Those people being controlled are still people."

"Not if I pull this trigger…."

"Rocket!"

"Fine. Ya wanna negotiate?"

Quill nodded, and grabbed the mic for the speakers. "Hey Baz, we've got you in our sights"

"And have the city in mine!" he said, as Isha walked to his side, apparently admiring the view.

"Not without a transmitter you don't. I hear your drones have a limited range." Said Gamora into the mic. Sandhurst laughed.

"Ahata, the drones are just for those who are not already carrying a suitable neural uplink…. And this very day a major communications company launches it's NES 6, the must have combined smart-com and gaming platform…. Developed by ERI technologies."

"Oh gods, that's what that weird signal on the cell network was, when I tried to make a call." Said officer Co' leaning in and covering the mic with her hand." We can't kill him, not if he's compromised the com network: he could mind-control half the planet, and we need him to say where this transmitter is to shut it off."

Quill swallowed nervously, and then spoke into the mic, all bluster.

"Step down, Sandhurst, we have you."

"Sandhurst? No, no more. I have not been Baz Sandhurst for some time my friends. Now I am…. THE CONTROLLER!" he said, spreading hid arms wide.

There was a grinding sound, and the remains of the sculpture in the centre of the garden begun to sink into the ground, revealing a black pit like a well, and then thousands upon thousands of drones begun to boil out like flies and swarm around Sandhurst as he laughed, and Isha took his arm and coolly, calmly leaned her head on his shoulders and stared right thought the glass at Drax.

"Quill stared in horror, and dropped the mic.

"Oh-no. he's given himself a codename. The ones who give themselves codenames are always insane." Said Starlord. He noticed the look his crew was giving him. "What?" he asked.

"I vote we shoot him now, starlord, and let Nova find and kill this transmitter." Said Rocket.

"Seconded." Said Gamora.

"Too late." said Drax. They glanced back at him for a moment, and they turned back to Sandhurst, just in time to see him and Isha, hand in hand, run off the edge of the cliff. There was a moment of indrawn breath, and then they saw them soar away towards the city, riding of a cloud of drones.

It was full night now, and the temperature begun to plummet. There would be no light or warmth for a week.

Quill swallowed nervously, and then nodded to Rocket, indicating he should follow. "Okay team, looks like we've got a long night ahead of us."

Awesome Mix tape Vol 2: The Beatles; Hard Day's Night.

The Milano few into darkness.

-=+ Longer chapter than planned, so I've broken it into two parts.+=-

Also, I couldn't decide if the track here should be smoke over water when Rocket blows up half the cliff, or hard day's night, so I went for the latter but hinted at the former.

-=+BunnyRock.+=-