AN: I had to classify this crossover as a "Star Trek"/"Avengers" crossover for now since there is no "Guardians of the Galaxy" category. It may change locations later if the "Guardians of the Galaxy" section becomes available.
Chapter One
Peter Quill leaned up against the wall of the prison he was now seated in. He watched with mild amusement as the other inmate with him was carving out crude markings in the slimy wall with a shattered stalactite from off the ground; making a gritty noise echo through the air like nails on a chalkboard. Peter cast his eyes towards the ceiling, where the slime seemed to be gathering on the stalactites.
"Getting any further on scratching a hole out of here?" asked Peter; his eyes still focused on the slime pooling above them.
A growl echoed in front of him, and turning his gaze back to look at the prisoner in front of him, he saw that the prisoner was now glaring back at him. The prisoner began to speak in an alien language that Peter didn't know, obviously trying to tell him off. Obviously this creature wasn't from his sector of the galaxy.
"Yep," Peter thought. "I've definitely ventured far from the borders of home on this one."
"I..." said Peter after the queer looking prisoner had stopped uttering foreign growls at him, "Don't understand you..."
Peter talked slowly as if that would be a solution to the language barrier between them. Seeing that the person in front of him only seemed to glare even more at him, he held up his hands in surrender.
"As long as you..." Peter said pointing a finger at the prisoner, "Don't eat me..." He pointed back at his chest, "We're good."
The prisoner grumbled again, turning away to focus back on the carvings as if they were of some significance.
Sighing, Peter moved to look about him again. The cell that he found himself in now was relatively small, especially with the two of them in it. The entrance to the cell was a sheet made of some sort of thick, glass-like material. It had a series of tiny holes at the top to allow a minimal amount of air to circulate through the cell. The sheet itself seemed to be fogged up by layers of grime. Once in a while, Peter thought he could see a guard of some sort walking past, but it was hard to tell. The rest of the cell itself was composed of jagged rocky walls, and a gravely dirt floor. No doubt the prison was built into the heart of whatever planet he was now tracked on.
The mission, of course, had gone horribly wrong. What started out as something that he was suppose to use to impress Gamora had ended up with himself being taken prisoner while the rest of his Guardian crew was who knew where. The last he had seen of any of them was when they had been surrounded by a legion of oddly suited soldiers, prodding them in the back with some sort of golden spear-like weapon as if they were cattle. He had lost consciousness slowly after due to him trying to break free. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in this prison next to Mister Sunshine.
SCRATCH - - - SCRATCH - - -
"Oh for the love of Pete!" He groaned, using his arms to box off his ears. Whoever this prisoner was didn't seem to have any brain cells whatsoever.
As he sat with his arms blocking his ears, he looked through the sheet to see what appeared to be a guard leading a prisoner past the cell. He assumed it was a prisoner due to the fact that he was being prodded roughly along. The prisoner wasn't stumbling forward though; instead he was keeping his back ramrod straight like someone of royalty. Peter smirked, letting out a low whistle as he stood up to walk over to the sheet door.
A growl came from the prisoner that was housed with Peter as he walked past him to try to get a closer look at the prisoner before he walked past.
"Hey, cool your jets..." said Peter, half-glaring at the prisoner before looking back at the one that held his interest outside the cell.
It was then that he saw the prisoner do something successfully that he had failed to do himself. Break free. The prisoner swung an elbow back with lightning speed, knocking the guard behind him off balance. With the one guard on the right off balance, a punch was delivered to the guard on the left. A growl left the guard, but not before the prisoner had grabbed up one of their spear weapons and swung it to knock him upside the head. The guard fell silent as he collapsed onto the ground. The remaining guard that the prisoner had elbowed in the first place glared at the prisoner, but didn't make a move since the prisoner swung the rod around again to knock the other person out. Peter watched as the prisoner reached up to tap his ear before he started to speak.
"Tell the Captain I've successfully broken free. I need to know the coordinates of where the device is located."
The prisoner began to walk back Peter's way, and Peter knew that he had to think of something quick. This prisoner might be his only chance of getting out of here seeing as how his crew was no where in sight, and might be in trouble themselves.
"Hey!" said Peter, pounding the flat of his hand against the sheet a bit. "Hey, I can help you out."
The prisoner stopped then, turning to look at Peter. Now Peter got a better look at the prisoner. His black hair was slicked back, neatly formed around his pointed ears. His eyes seemed to narrow in and focus on Peter as if he were an interesting specimen like the cellmate behind him.
"And what reason should there be for me believing a stranger?"
"Whoa, tough words right out of the gate there," said Peter; his mind seeming to work a million miles a minute to try to think of a way to smooth talk this guy into understanding. "I can help you locate the device. I have experience in locating things."
"Given the fact that you are housed in this prisoner with a Klingon, and I have not met you before this, I find it hard to believe that you will do as you're saying. It's proven that prisoners are willing to barter anything to get out of a cell."
"You surely must have heard of me though. I'm Star-Lord. And...um...what's a Klingon?"
"I don't have time to socialize with you when I have a mission given to me by my Captain."
The prisoner started to move away from him, and internally Peter began to curse. He couldn't let his one chance of freedom slip away.
"I know I might be a stranger to you, but do you think I'd be stupid enough to cross you after seeing what you just did to those two guards?"
The prisoner stopped, turning back to look at Peter. Before he could say anything though, he was reaching up to tap his ear again having obviously received some sort of message.
"Tell the Captain I'm on my way to the coordinates given. Be prepared to beam me up at the coordinates that were proposed during the conception of this plan."
The prisoner started to move away again, and Peter tried one last ditch effort to free himself.
"Look, how about we strike a deal? If you free me, I promise that I'll help you get the device you need, and let you be on your merry way. You don't even have to take me off this planet with you."
"I've already told you that I can't believe a word that comes out of your mouth due to the fact that you are - "
"A mere stranger. Yeah, I know pointy."
The prisoner stared at him queerly for a moment before taking a step closer to the cell. For half a second Peter thought that he had offended the prisoner enough that he'd come back just to harm him. At least he had, what the prisoner had said, a Klingon prison mate. Maybe if this prisoner tried to harm him, the Klingon would stick up for him. Fat chance at that though. As the prisoner stood in front of him again, he could see that he was being scanned from head-to-toe as if he were some specimen in a lab.
"What's your name?" asked the prisoner.
"Peter Quill, also known as Star-Lord." He couldn't ever let people forget that part of his name.
"Peter will work fine," said the prisoner as he suddenly began to finger the pad beside the door. The sheet dividing them was soon risen and before Peter could even make a move, the prisoner was shoving the spear like weapon against his neck.
"I will allow you to come with me, but if you so much as dare to cross me, it will cost you your life."
"Yes, yes! Got it!"
The prisoner quickly yanked Peter out of the cell before putting the dividing sheet back down to keep the Klingon inside. Having been yanked quickly from the cell, Peter found himself sprawled on his stomach on the dirty prison floor. He coughed a bit as he sat up, trying to dust the grime off him. Sitting up, he looked at the man that was towering near him. Standing up slowly, Peter looked him over from head-to-toe.
"Who am I assisting?" He asked as the man turned aside to begin walking down the hallway. Not getting an answer, Peter followed quickly after the man. "Do I assume I just keep calling you variations of pointy?"
The man pulled up short then, glaring at Peter with an unsettling amount of calm in his eyes.
"My name is Spock. Now do not jeopardize this mission any more than you already have, understood?"
He did a small salute towards Spock which only caused him to roll his eyes, and begin walking again. As they walked, he noticed some fallen stalactites on the ground. Not wanting to be caught weaponless if it came down to a fight, he bent down to pick one up. Better to be prepared. He kept the sharp stalactite by his side as he followed Spock down the hallway to a destination unknown. He had no idea what he had said that had caused Spock to change his mind, but that was something he was bound and determined to find out sooner or later.