DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
Warnings: some language and general seditiousness. Plus some eye candy.
Enjoy!
Obviously, when she gets the news that they have allowed Ronan to carry a weapon, Nova Prime is not particularly impressed. Actually, she comes very close to flipping the lid.
"Are you totally insane?!" she shouts through the comm.
"It's not dangerous in any way, I promise you. - Peter tries to calm her, pinching the bridge of his nose - He is not going to harm us, and if he had really wanted to, he would have managed even without a weapon." he points out.
"And what about the rest of the Galaxy? - she asks - Are they safe too?"
Peter shrugs. "Unless they try to fuck with us, yes. - he replies - I have told you, madam, he is not the person he was during the whole blowing-up-Xandar incident, he has changed." he insists.
"I don't care. You were supposed to restrain him, not reform him. - she argues - You were supposed to keep him out of the public eye, not appear with him as a member of your team on the HoloNet!" she wails.
When she starts ranting about how their mission on on Gramosia was too high-profile and so on, Peter just switches off. To be cooped up in the cockpit, arguing with her is the last thing he wants.
After Gramosia, they have landed in a nice little tropical beach on a mostly uninhabited planet, and currently the rest of the team is outside, enjoying the sun. From where he is sitting he can see them through the windshield.
Rocket and Groot are making sand constructions, while Gamora, Drax and Ronan are sparring together.
The weather is so warm that even normally prim Ronan has been forced to do without several articles of clothing, and Peter is currently enjoying a nice and unimpeded view of the shirtless Kree. He could watch him for hours, especially when he trains or fights, like on Gramosia, where he put Keenblade to good use mowing down scores of raiders.
Peter remembers seeing him grin as fought, already so in tune with his new weapon that it seemed like it had always been his.
Gamora, who was also eating him up with her eyes back then, agrees with him: smoking hot doesn't quite cover it.
As if summoned by his reminiscences, Gamora tackles Ronan and both end up on the floor, fighting for dominance.
Peter's mind jumps straight into the gutter, supplying him with several different erotic fantasies involving his two favourite aliens entangled in bed. He is quite sure that Gamora is enjoying herself, even if she seems to have lost her advantage and is now being pressed to the ground.
If they could have it their way, Ronan would have been sharing their bed for a while already.
When they were looking up haaq-taking practices for giving Ronan his axe, they had found out that the services required from a haaq often included sleeping with their masters, and they are reasonably sure that if they ordered him, Ronan would comply, but however lustful for him, they would never do something like that.
It would be wrong on so many levels that it gives him a headache just to think about it, so they just keep on dropping him hints, in the hope that he realises that they liked him that way, but the poor man seems so shy and confused about his feelings, that so far they haven't had any success.
Maybe they should just take a leaf out of Drax's book and be blunt about it, telling him straight away that they want to screw him seven ways to Sunday, if that's fine with him.
"Maybe we should..." he thinks, watching Ronan pick himself up from the ground all sweaty and plastered with golden sand. What wouldn't he give to drag him in the shower?
"The public needs to be reminded that thr Kree is a criminal, a monster, responsible for the unprovoked, unjustified murders of several Xandarian officers..." Nova Prime continues in the background.
Something switches on in Peter's mind at her words.
"Unprovoked?!" he thinks.
"He told us." he says, cutting her off.
"I beg your pardon?" Nova Prime says, feigning incomprehension.
Peter sighs. "He told us about the bombings during the war, when you targeted civilian buildings." he clarifies.
"Well, he was obviously manipulating the truth. - Nova Prime retorts, without missing a beat - We only bombed military targets. And then, accidents happen, my boy, especially if people chose to use children as sentient shields."
"The Kree would disagree, I think. - Peter retorts - I have been listening to their CommRadio transmissions, madam."
"Oh, have you? - she comments sourly - And you believed their propaganda unquestioningly, I suppose..."
"I did my fact-checking alright. The Ravagers... they know people, even some of your lot. - Peter declares - My father told me some of your people were bragging about killing the little blue bastards before they grew up. At least some of the Nova knew exactly what they were doing." he jabs, and the video shows a grimace blooming on Nova Prime's face.
"That pirate is not your father." she comments.
"He is my father in the only way that matters. He raised me, and I trust him, more or less. And then I checked again, on the service rolls of the Nova Corps. Many people owe me favours, and we are heroes on Xandar... - he continues - Did you realise that Ronan killed only pilots that were involved in the bombings? My gut feeling tells me that he did it on purpose." he adds.
The grimace on Nova Prime's face deepens. Good, Peter thinks.
"So, technically, for the Kree those people were war criminals. - he argues - And, technically, Ronan was still part of the Kree law enforcement, so, technically speaking of course, he was operating within the law when he spattered those men's brains all over the Dark Aster. Those were lawful executions, not assassinations."
"It was a barbarous act." Nova Prime insists.
Peter shrugs. "If you shoot someone in the head, you get the same result. That was just more theatrical." he argues from experience. He has done that sort of thing before, when the situation required it.
"What is your point, Star-Lord?" Nova Prime asks wearily. He hasn't got her 100% cornered, but she is feeling the pressure.
"My point is that I didn't understand why you are still so desperate to cover this up." he replies.
Nova Prime's eyes go a little bit wide. He has her.
"It was before your term of service as Nova Prime, so I didn't get why you didn't denounce that as a fault of the previous holder of your office and cleaned the slate. - he continues - But then I checked those rolls of service again. The guy who gave the order, he was your first husband, and one of the pilots was his son from his first wife. You don't want to be found guilty by association, isn't it?" he asks as suavely as he can.
This time she cannot keep her calm façade up. Outrage and worry show clearly on her face.
"I am not doing this for my own personal benefit. - she declares - Do you have any idea of what the consequences would be if such slander reached the public?" she hisses then.
Peter shrugs again. "I don't know. - he admits candidly - Maybe you folks would stop seeing yourself as the victims and the good guys and take responsability for what you did in the war?" he offers.
"Maybe the Xandarian citizens won't be so hasty in believing all of what you top brass say? - he adds, twisting the knife - Doesn't seem so bad to me." he concludes. He knows he is not a hero or even a 100% good guy, but he has the honesty to admit it. He doesn't pretend to be what he is not, and neither do his fellow Guardians.
"What do you want, you little piratical scoundrel?" she spits.
"I want you to leave Ronan the hell alone. - Peter declares firmly - He has done horrible things, but at least he has the decency to feel guilty about them, and to accept his punishment for them."
While you are still trying to deny that you have bombed a temple full of children, and schools, and hospitals, he thinks.
"We'll make sure that he doesn't relapse, but you Nova need to stop trying to screw him over. - Peter adds - He is our responsibility, and we'll take care of him, even if it takes going against you." he declares.
"Would you really go against the Nova Empire for the likes of him?" Nova Prime asks, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief.
Peter sighs. "Which part of 'he is one of us now' is unclear to you, madam?" he asks.
Nova Prime gives him a long, hard, unblinking stare, which he returns unflinchingly.
"If I find you anywhere near Nova space, I'll have my people shoot you down. - she announces - I won't have your bleeding hearts threaten the stability and public order of Xandar."
Peter shrugs. "You can keep it. The Universe is big, and Xandar was always a bit overrated as a holiday destination. - he replies with a big grin - Farewell and adieu, madam." he salutes.
The conversation is abruptly cut and Peter sighs in relief.
The deed is done. It needed to be done.
He is disappointed, but not surprised that the Xandarian government has proven to be as hypocritical and pig-headed as Yondu had told him it would be. He suspects most governments are, and he supposes it is fair enough.
What's not fair is tormenting people to keep up a lie. They can't let them do that, they all agreed about it.
The Xandarians offloaded Ronan to them, because they didn't want to deal with the hassle of keeping him. They told them to take care of him and they did.
He was broken when he arrived, but he has managed to rebuild himself from the foundations up, challenging what he was, opening himself up to change.
He is no longer the person Thanos or his grandfather wanted him to be. He is brave, and kind, and sometimes still so lost...
Peter finds himself reminescing of how Ronan has tried to teach him, Drax and Gamora about something called sia, some kind of meditation trick that allows people to see blows coming before they do, and how happy and proud he was when Drax finally managed to hit him, even if it gave him a black eye, of the wonder in his eyes at seeing new planets and trying new things, and of how weirded out he looked when he caught himself humming one of Peter's Terran songs...
Peter knows that during the course of the year or so Ronan has spent with them, he has fallen in love with him. They all have, one way or another, some romantically, some more like family.
He is part of their life now, and no one can try to harm him without having to deal with them.
Peter sighs and stretches. He has spent far too much time brooding in there, he decides. He quickly rummages in one of the storage compartments in the cockpit and quickly finds his freesbee.
When he was a kid on Terra, it was hugely popular, but most of the people he has met in space so far don't seem to know it. This is the perfect time to introduce the Guardians to it.
He jumps off the gangway into the sand and lets fly, shouting "Incoming!".
Gamora turns and catches without effort, but with a puzzled expression.
"What is that?" she asks, turning the plastic disc in her hands.
"It's a freesbee. - he replies - A Terran toy. It's pefect for the beach." he adds.
The disc is passed on to Drax and then to Ronan, who examine it in turn.
Rocket and Groot abandon their construction project and come closer.
"What does it do?" Rocket asks.
"It flies. - Peter replies - You throw it at someone, and they catch it. It's easy. Want to try?" he asks.
Rocket nods. Groot jumps up and down in enthusiasm, snatches the disc from Ronan's hands and throws it at Drax, who catches easy.
"It seems a bit too easy." the Destroyer comments.
"Then we'll make it harder. - Peter proposes - Left hand only. And running. How does that sound?"
"That's more like it!" Drax approves, starting to run and throwing the disc at Gamora.
Soon the game degenerates ito trying to steal someone else's catch and trying improbable trick shots. They roll into the sand and end up in the water, laughing and cursing each other.
They are his family, Peter thinks, nothing is more important to him.
A.N.
I don't have any bone to pick with the character of Irani Rael, I have a general bone to pick with governments that won't admit past wrongdoings on the basis that they were doing the wrong thing (i.e. restricting/violating human rights, or in this case sentient rights) for the right reasons. There is no right reason for some things. There isn't.
I kind of like Irani Rael, actually.