06-How to fly a washing machine

The first thing Rocket did after turning the power back on was to push the modified shields of the Milano to a maximum, creating sort of a bubble of electrical energy surrounding them. It allowed him, Peter and Gamora to work on the repairs without worrying about new creatures boarding the ship unnoticed, while Groot took the arduous task of cleaning the ship out of an unbelievable amount of smelly and slippery cadavers.

At least two hours had passed and the gigantic sun had still not completely disappeared behind the horizon, its intense heat still feeling like a hammer blow. The light had changed spectrum, from a blinding yellowish white to red purplish.

Peter wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead with his wrist and stepped back to check the work progress. He had just finished his part and his friends were almost done. The Milano still looked bad but at least the breaches were closed. He ran his hand against the scrapped surface as if to ask the ship for forgiveness and went back inside.

The putrid smell was still awfully strong and he took a moment to get used to it again, taking small breaths and trying hard not to gag. Groot passed by him, carrying the last corpses and throwing them out as far as the shield allowed to. He then stepped back into the cargo bay and stayed here, looking as if he was concentrating on something.

"What are you doing, buddy?" Peter asked, genuinely curious.

Groot looked at him and smiled, then raised his arms slowly. Hundreds of tiny petals and spores escaped from his body, not unlike that time in Ronan's ship except they weren't luminescent, and flew freely inside the room like a sweet tornado of delicate flowery smell.

Peter chuckled in awe. The whole thing was so odd. And it reminded him of those adds for detergent he saw on TV when he was a kid, the ones where women were cleaning their house while dancing and singing and it made everything shine and magical flowers appeared out of nowhere. His mom hated those adds and he understood why the first time Yondu made him clean the bathrooms of the Eclector. There was nothing magical nor glamorous about cleaning bathrooms, and he also discovered that them being called "The Ravagers" was oh so very fitting.

He followed Groot and his flowery breeze throughout the ship and stopped next to Drax' bunk to find him sound asleep. Peter checked his friend's vitals and readjusted the blanket covering his massive body in a caring gesture.

"How is he doing?" Gamora's hushed voice behind him almost made him jump. Almost.

"He's gonna be fuzzy and sore, but the readings are good and the fracture's already healing. At this rate, he'll be all good in three or four days. I'm jealous." Peter smiled. The last time he broke a bone, it was in his leg and it took weeks to heal. And it sucked big time. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes. Rocket is making a final check as we speak."

"Okay, good. How long do you think we have until the next spatiotemporal jump thing?"

Gamora sighed. "It could happen in two days or in two seconds for all I know. And we don't even know if it really is the same solar system I have heard about."

"Given our legendary luck, it has to be. And it's the only thing making sense anyway. Just cross your fingers that we have enough time to find the parts we need to repair the ship and leave this nightmare." He said, leaving Drax' bunk.

"Why would I cross my fingers? It's not practical." Gamora said, following him to the bridge.

Peter laughed. He sometimes forgot that she also could take his expressions literally. "No, it's just a make a wish thing terrans do. It's supposed to keep the bad luck away. See?" He showed her the sign, smiling broadly.

Gamora smiled teasingly. "Terrans are so weird. And I didn't know you were superstitious."

"I'm not. But it's also kinda comforting you know? Just in case. Come on, cross your fingers with me." He winked and climbed the ladder to the bridge.

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a kid."

"Ah, you're no fun." He noticed Rocket fiddling with the cables under the main console. "Hey buddy, are we ready to go?"

The raccoon peeked out for a second then resumed his job. "Just a sec… if I plug this one here..."

"You're screwed! You're screwed! You're screw-"

"ROCKET!"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." The alarm stopped screaming and Rocket came out from under the console, wiping grease off his hands with an even greasier rag. "There. Everything's back to where it belongs, we're as ready as we'll ever be, Star-dork."

"Good. Let's find us a top winglet and get the hell out of Dodge."

"Did you find the name of this place?" A groggy voice came from below.

Peter looked down the ladder to find Drax staring at him with a confused expression. "Hey Drax! Glad to see you awake. How do you feel regarding uh, your health status?"

"I've had worse, but thank you for your concern, Peter Quill. Did I miss anything during my rest?"

"Just some cleaning and repairs. How's your arm?"

Drax shrugged. "It is healing slower that I am used to. I find this situation to be very frustrating."

"Maybe it has something to do with this planet, like, it's affecting us on some level..." Peter mused.

"What do you mean?" asked Rocket. "It's not like the damn thing broke his arm on purpose."

Peter sighed. "If you think about it, we've all been a little different since we crashed here. Drax' injuries are far worse than they should be. I mean, the last time I saw him break a bone it was a rib and only after he had fought Ronan twice, was hit by a ship then crashed on Xandar! We fought bad guys far worse than those creatures and he got out without a scratch, it's not normal. And you, Gamora. You're the most aware person I've ever met. I've seen you kill some ninja soldiers before I even knew they were a threat, and you couldn't sense the creatures' presence even when they were so close they almost grabbed you. Rocket is kinda slower and emotional -not a reproach, just an observation; and we've all seen what those creatures can do to Groot's mind."

"And what about you?" Gamora inquired.

"I don't know, it's more like a feeling, you know? Like my instincts are sharper. Look, I don't mind it, but I know I'm the weakest of us all. I'm no genius, I don't have body mods, warrior-like training nor regenerative abilities..."

"We all get weaker and you get better," Rocket interrupted him. "Why?"

"Maybe it's my ancient alien genes or the fact that I'm not even from this Galaxy to begin with? Or maybe with all the pollution and chemicals I've been exposed to when I was a child on Terra I've developed some kind of immunity..."

"All the what?" Rocket asked. Peter always described his home-world like this magical heaven with awesome kick-ass heroes and beautiful landscapes. Chemical pollution didn't fit in the idyllic painting he had made up in his mind.

Peter chuckled. "Yeah. Apparently all the stuff we use for agriculture on Terra is classified as strictly forbidden chemical weapons in this Galaxy. When Yondu abducted me, the first thing he did was to put me in decontamination for a whole day because I was making all the sensor of the Eclector go nuts. Only after I was considered clean enough, some of the Ravagers tried to eat me but I escaped and took refuge into the air ducts. It took them hours to find me and another hour to bribe me into getting out with some food because they were all too big to reach me. Then Yondu put me into decontamination again just for show."

They all stayed silent for a short moment, then Rocket cracked into a laugh that got contagious fast. "Sorry, sorry. I know we should all commiserate on the two rounds of decontamination, I mean that's rough. But dude, using chemical weapons for agriculture? How are you all terrans still alive!?"

Quill smiled. "Well, it seemed to be all good when I left. We're a very resilient species."

"Sounds about right," Rocket agreed. "Come on, we're wasting precious time."

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Drax, we're about to take off and search for shipwrecks, so I'd like you and Groot to return to your bunks and buckle up, the flight will probably be a little shaky and I don't want your injuries to worsen. Okay?"

Drax smiled gently and nodded. "You do not need to worry as I can care for myself, my friend."

Peter smiled in return. "I know buddy, and thank you for indulging me." He watched Drax disappear from his point of view and turned to Rocket, who had settled into the co-pilot's seat. Gamora was also sitting in her chair, harness belt fastened and smiling at him.

He sat down and slowly started the engines. The Milano hummed as it came back to life and gently left the ground. Then a few red lights switched on and a beeping sound invaded the cockpit.

"Uh-oh."

"Rocket, please tell me this is one of your practical jokes and not what I think it is."

Rocket shrugged. "Not a joke, sorry."

"Ah, damn it. Freaking awesome." Quill let out a frustrated huff.

"What's happening?" Gamora inquired worryingly.

"Seems like we're almost out of power. Queen of the Thingies must have depleted the batteries when she tapped into the core reactor. And my boosted shield didn't help." Rocket informed her.

"And now we have to find a functioning top winglet AND a charged battery," added Peter. "Okay. I'm deactivating everything except the low thrusters. We'll fly as low as possible and I'll need you both to look out for anything that could help us out of this mess. Rocket, I hope you have something portable that we could use to scan the area? And while you're at it, please check the central core unit."

"Already on it." The raccoon said, jumping out of his seat.

"You're the best, dude. Gamora, can you please take his seat and be my eyes on your side of the ship?"

She nodded and took place gracefully. They were slowly approaching the petrified forest they had grazed on their arrival and the trees looked even more menacing now. And Peter didn't seem to make a move to bypass it. "You know you're heading right for the trees, don't you?"

She looked at him briefly. He was focused, probably calculating every trajectory.

"Yeah, I know. The forest is too big for us to go around and the trees seem to be sufficiently spaced apart for us to fly through if we stay under the branches."

"They seem to be? What if they are not?!"

"They have to be. We don't have much choice anyway… ready?"

He winked at her and she nodded, unconsciously gripping at her armrests. She trusted him and his flying skills, but she couldn't help the logical part of her brain from calculating the odds, and they weren't good. Without navigation nor anything that could assist with flying, the ship had to be as manageable as a washing machine.

Despite everything, Peter expertly maneuvered the ship toward a large gap between the trees, staying close enough to the ground in case they went completely out of power and had to crash again, while remaining high enough not to be surprised by an obstacle on the way. He used the left and right thrusters with brief bursts to guide the Milano inside the maze of gray trunks unfolding before their eyes.

"Well, I would never have thought of that," Gamora said in amazement. Instead of the near darkness she had expected and dreaded, the forest adorned itself with a phosphorescent glow coming from the ground and illuminating the trunks and branches, bathing them in an eerie green light.

"Too bad this planet's a death trap moving through space and time, it sure has interesting scenery." Peter joked.

Rocket's voice came from the lower levels as he was climbing the ladder back to them. "I have good and bad news, which one do you want fir… Oh." He stopped, mesmerized by the strange ballet the gigantic petrified trunks were forming around the Milano.

"Let's be crazy, gimme the good news first," Peter answered quietly, his focus unwavering.

Rocket hesitated for a second, not wanting to disturb their pilot anymore while in the middle of a delicate maneuver, but then he remembered it was Quill he was speaking to. The guy was capable of singing and dancing in a middle of a combat and hit his marks right between the eyes anyway.

"I've found my portable scanner, I can calibrate it to find the specific items we need. And the core batteries are not entirely depleted, we have more than we need to go into hyper-drive and to the nearest station. Bad news is that the converter is fried. It's a good thing you cut everything except the thrusters 'cause anything more would have overexerted the core reactor and we'd have gone kaboom." He sat on the nearest chair and buckled his harness, his eyes following the trees up to the firmament.

"Okay, no overexerting the core, duly noted. Great...everything's great." Peter quickly boosted the thrusters to avoid a low branch that appeared right in front of them. "Silver lining is that we have more chances to find a power converter than a fully charged battery here."

"Yeah, well, we still have to get out of the glowing forest of doom and find a wreck first." Rocket countered while fiddling with his portable scanner. "Hey! I've pinged on something!"

"Awesome! Where?"

"A few yards above us."

"Above?" Peter repeated, taken aback, but starting the ascent maneuver nonetheless. The ship rose gently into the air, until the branches started to become too dense to navigate into. "I can't go higher without risking damage to the ship. You see something?"

"I think I do..." Gamora answered, pointing toward a gray mass a few feet before them.

"Yeah, that's it," Rocket confirmed, looking at his device.

Peter stabilized the Milano into a stationary position. "Can your scanner analyze it to check if it has anything we need?"

Rocket shook his head. "Nope, sorry. We'll have to go see by ourselves."

Peter stayed silent for a moment, absent-mindedly scratching the scruff under his chin while he considered their options. "Rocket and I will go. Gamora, please keep the ship steady and watch our back?"

He got out of his seat and she took his place, but not before telling him to stay vigilant.

On their way down to the airlock exit, they put on their complete space-suits, not wanting to expose themselves to whatever was making the ground and air glow in the dark.

Once the circular door opened, Peter realized they'd have to climb onto the ship to reach the nearest branch. Problem was the rungs on the hull were made on a human scale. He looked down to find his friend glaring at him with his arms crossed against his chest.

"We don't have very much choice, buddy."

Rocket huffed. "Alright, alright. I'll climb on your back. Ugh, this is so humiliating."

He settled and Peter started the ascent. "I don't get it, you climb on Groot's shoulders all the time."

"It's not the same. With Groot, I usually have my big guns and we look scary. Here I'm like a child sitting on his dad's shoulders!"

Peter laughed. "Okay, okay. After this, I promise I'll buy you an ice cream, kiddo."

"Ha. ha. ha. You're such a funny guy, Star-dork."

"It's part of my charm." He finally reached the top of the ship and let Rocket get off him. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"Speak for yourself." The raccoon looked at the intricate gray canopy above them. "So, what's the plan?"

Peter moved toward the edge of the ship the closest to the tree, measuring the distance thoughtfully. "Can you jump that far?"

Rocket stood by his side and sighed. "No."

Quill shifted uneasily on his feet, hesitating. "So uh, what do uh..."

The raccoon rolled his eyes and scaled again on his friend's back. Once settled, he gave Peter a little tap on the shoulders with his heels and declaimed: "Onward to battle!"