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.

And now we finally get to Terra, and the trouble is only starting!
I know that Nick Fury is supposed to have retired from directing SHIELD, but I just love him as a character, so I am happily ignoring this pesky fact. I hope you will appreciate.

Warnings: politics, sarcasm, mild speciesism, mentions of alien drugs of abuse and a tiny bit of Oedipus-by-proxy.

Enjoy, and please don't shout at me!

The three flying Terran warriors escort the ships to a secluded landing strip next to a sprawling glass-and-steel building.
A stylised bird of prey rendered in white over black is depicted in several places. It must be the crest of the commander, or maybe of the army, Ronan muses.

Waiting on the strip is a large detachment of troops, guns primed and ready, and a small group of non-uniformed people. They must be the rest of Thor's comrades.

Peter is the first one out of the Milano as they land. He strolls down the gangway with a spring in his step and resolutely ignores the hostile looks some of the Terran soldiers are giving them, and in particular Loki.

Ronan stumbles behind him, determined to protect him if need be, even though he sincerely hopes that need not be.
He had started feeling a bit "off" ever since Peter opened the landing bay of the Milano and Terran air started mixing with the pressurised atmosphere of the ship, and now that he is out in the open he is feeling the full effect of the excess of oxygen in his system.

He should have known better than to brave an atmosphere of 20% oxygen without a respirator.
While not overtly toxic, that concentration is high enough to compromise quite severely his ability to function normally.
Hell, 20% oxygen in air is one of the "smart drugs" that youngsters on Hala use for their wildly debauched parties, but since it is also used for some obscure religious rituals, it is perfectly legal. This is the only relieving bit of the whole situation. He would have hated to feel like he should arrest himself, on top of everything else.

He has been to planets with high-oxygen atmospheres before, but in all cases, he had done the smart thing, followed accepted procedures and protected himself and his comrades by slapping a bloody respirator on.
In any other circumstance, during any other mission to Terra, he would have done the same, except that this isn't a raid or a scouting expedition, it is first and foremost a diplomatic mission, and he can hardly help foster good relations between the Council and the Terrans, if he scares them out of their wits.

Ronan is aware of the effect he normally has on people without even trying. He knows it, and he enjoys it. Being perceived as powerful and menacing is useful in a variety of circumstances, but the combination of hood, scars and respirator mask might just have tipped the scales towards outright threat, and compromised the mission even more than his temporary impairment (and there was no way he was going to lower his hood in front of strangers).
So he endures, for the sake of diplomacy and of his own foolish vanity. Thankfully the effects should wear off in the next few days, as his body adapts and starts producing lower-affinity globins and other oxygen scavenging systems.

For now, the air feels thicker than usual, and tastes rich and sweet on his tongue. His head is light and fluffy like down. He feels dizzy and relaxed, but at the same time euphoric, as if he was heavily inhebriated.

He has experienced that feeling only once before, during a bounty hunting mission with the Guardians, when hospitality had forced them to partake of some local psychotropic concoction, and he distinctly remembers he had not liked it back then.
He had loathed the uncontrollable, humiliating fits of giggling it had caused in him, and had been profoundly embarrassed by the untimely, inappropriate quickening of his body.

Much to his chagrin, he is already experiencing the first symptoms of the former. His throat itches and tingles with the impulse to laugh, but he represses it as hard as he can. This is neither the time nor the place for inappropriate hilarity.
He can only hope that he will be spared from the latter.

The loss of control unnerves him, and his ability to focus is rapidly becoming impaired. If things start to go south, this might turn into a problem.
Or maybe not. During that accursed mission, when their quarries finally attacked them, even inhebriated he had still been able to fight, albeit more messily and more sloppily than usual, and laughing all the way.
According to Peter, it had been absolutely terrifying.
Maybe the hardest challenge will be just to avoid embarrasing himself and the Guardians in front of their potential Terran allies. He needs to focus.

Peter stops in front of a tough-looking, dark brown-skinned Terran man, dressed in a long black coat and sporting an eyepatch. His looks and his confident, aggressive attitude identify him as a veteran and a man used to wield authority.
The rest of the Avengers are arrayed behind him, and look at Peter with varying degrees of suspicion. Peter just pretends he doesn't see it.

"Director Nick Fury, I suppose. - he greets genially, trusting a hand towards him - I am Peter Jason Quill, son of Emperor J'son of Spartax and Meredith Quill of Texas. I am honoured to meet you." he adds with a wide smile.
The man doesn't smile back and doesn't clasp his hand.
"Are you the person in charge of this circus?" he barks instead, nodding his head in the general direction of the others.
"Me? No? I am just the local guide, and not a good one at that. - Peter replies glibly - I have not been back to Terra since 1988. I am sure that Thor knows modern Terran customs much better than me, by now." he explains.
The man doesn't seem impressed by his attempt at eliciting sympathy, and directs at him an angry one-eyed glare.

Ronan moves to stand a step behind and to the side of Peter, laying a hand on his shoulder in a clear show of support, and Gamora does the same on the other side of him.
To be honest, Ronan feels like he needs support too, but in a more physical sense. The world is spinning and swaying slightly before him, but hopefully Fury will not notice his difficulty, and focus on the fact that he is armed and dangerous, instead. This should give him pause in case he thinks about having Peter summarily executed.

"Then who is? - Fury asks - Who do I have to thank for causing a nationwide UFO alarm by flying spaceships over New York? And who was the genius that freed that individual?" he adds, pointing a finger towards Loki.
"Was it you, Thor? - he insists - Did you really think we wouldn't have recognised him with that blue disguise?" he asks.
Loki flushes in embarrassment and irritation and Ronan foresees the start of a shouting match, but thankfully Helenai intervenes, defusing the situation.

"Thor is not to blame for either of them. - she declares - Both decisions were taken by a qualified majority of the Integalactic Security Council." she adds coolly.
"The what?! - Fury exclaims - And who are you?" he soon asks, staring her down.
"I am princess Helenai of Spartax, firstborn daughter and heir to Emperor J'son of Spartax, and Supreme Strategos of the Spartoi Army. I am here as a plenipotentiary of my father in all diplomatic and military matters. - she replies smugly - And those are my husband prince Gladiator of Shi'ar, prince J'rth of the Skrull Horde, and Denaarian Saskia Rael, plenipotentiary of the Nova Empire." she continues.
Fury tries to look unimpressed, but fails.

"We have been sent here by the Council to open a diplomatic channel with the Terran authorities. - Saskia Rael takes over - As such, we thought that teleporting here en masse without an invitation, or using a wormhole to bypass your orbital defences would not be the ideal way to start this relationship." she explains matter-of-factly.

"It's a pity you don't have any... - Rocket comments sarcastically, crossing his arms on his chest and leveling an unimpressed stare at Fury - Nor any decent orbital radio system, or even just a 'No trespass' sign! I mean, we tried to contact you from orbit, but we only managed when we were ridiculously close to one of your landing areas! What the hell do you usually do when you get foreign ships in your atmosphere?" he asks.

"I am not taking lessons in strategy from a raccoon." Fury growls, returning the glare.
"Well, tell this to Thanos and his buddies when they come here to wipe all life off your planet! - Rocket retorts - And if you want to call someone names, try with your mother first! I am not a raccoon, whatever it might be! My name is Rocket!" he protests.
"The little fellow has a point, Director. - Iron Man butts in - Thor has said that we should expect more trouble from space, and we are sorely unprepared on that front." he adds.

"That's an understatement, Metal Dude! Apart from us, you have been caught with your pants down at least two times, that I know of... and that's not counting the times a single ship slipped past your radars, like when Yondu picked up Peter, or when Peter and Helenai's dad crash-landed in Texas... - Rocket teases - And I bet it has been more times than that. I mean, there is a big, massive hyperspace lane from the edge of Kree space to here. I'm surprised the big blue fellows have never visited. It's like a bloody big gate among the stars, with a welcome sign stuck to the cross-beam..." he comments.

"Oh, Pama!" Ronan thinks.
Rocket's words click in his head, the last piece of a puzzle he has been trying to piece together ever since they left Kree space.
The Gate through the stars, that leads to the Blessed Land of ancient legend... that is what the old fortifications on Kilda are guarding!
And the oxygen-rich Terran air... that is the reason why they use 20% oxygen and not 19% or 21% in the extatic rituals of sacred marriage!

Did Derdriyu know when she sent them to Terra?
And what will the Terrans do when they realise that the Kree had not just been to Terra before, but had left a legacy behind them? And will the children of the Lost Ones still remember? Have they kept their vows? Will they welcome them?
So many questions... and so much hangs in balance from their answers.
Ronan's head spins even more, so much that he has to concentrate really hard just to stay upright.
He falters, stumbles on his own feet.
Peter sneaks an arm around his waist. It's the only thing that keeps him upright.

"Bluebell! Are you alright?!" Peter exclaims, voice high with worry.
Ronan tries to reply, but it feels as if the words are stuck in his throat. He nods, but the world lurches violently with his movement, and he wobbles again, nearly taking Peter to the ground with him.

"Back off, all of you!" Fury yells. There is the sound of hurried footsteps.
When he manages to focus again, Ronan is kneeling on the ground with Peter and Gamora at his side. The first thing he notices is that all the Terrans have moved back several steps and are looking upon him with worry and hostility.
"What's wrong with him?" Fury asks peremptorily.
"It's nothing..." Peter tries to minimise.
"What is wrong with him?!" Fury yells, true to his name.
"It's the air, alright?! - Peter yells back - There is too much fucking oxygen in the air on Terra! He is not used to it! It's not contagious, if that's what you're worried about, for the gods' sake!" he adds, clearly upset.

"Ronan are you alright? Can you breathe? - Gamora asks quietly - Please, talk to me." she pleads.
"I'm fine... just dizzy..." Ronan manages to say, slurring slightly.
It's not just that, though. The impulse to laugh has faded, but his senses have become even more heightened than usual.

He is hyper-aware of Gamora's and Peter's hands on him, he can feel their warmth even through his clothes, and his skin tingles pleasantly with it, and their scent... has it always been so wonderfully enticing?
Gamora places a hand on his cheek and makes him raise his gaze to meet hers, probably to check his pupils. He bets they are fully dilated.

The light seems so very bright, almost painful like at the hospital on Spartax, but it paints a rainbow behind her, like a halo. It's beautiful, and her hand is so warm...
He imagines he can feel every line of it, every minute whorl, as it presses against his skin. It fills him with sharp delight, as if his nerve endings were totally raw and sensitized, and he can't help but wonder how heavenly it would feel if her hands roamed all over his body and her lips pressed against his. And if her wet, soft, warm core slid upon him as she rode him... or if Peter filled him up completely with his hard, hot cock... he nearly trembles at the though of the extasy he would feel then.

Now he knows how the first generation of the Lost Ones came to be. Now he knows why Eamon and his companions were overwhelmed with lust for the sons and daughters of Ta Meri that had rescued them, and he too wants nothing better than to walk in their footsteps and lose himself in the touch of his beautiful, warm lovers...

However, he is not so far gone to just yield to that impulse yet.
He still knows where he is, and he knows what is happening around him. He cannot give in to that sweet temptation.
Not yet.
There will be time for that later, now he has to focus and calm down, and possibly get out of the way for the others to be able to start the negotiations.

"Don't lie to me." Gamora chides gently.
"I think I am high as a kite..." Ronan forces himself to admit.
Peter starts to chuckle to himself.
"Sorry, sorry. I know it's not funny, but it actually is a bit, you know? - he says - Do you want your respirator?" he asks, clearly worried.
"Please." Ronan manages, fighting another wave of dizziness.
"I am Groot." Little Groot says.
"Thanks buddy. It's in the holding cell, somehwere." Peter instructs.
"I am Groot." the plant-child confirms, and trots towards the Milano as fast as his lanky roots allow.

"There is nothing to be worried about. - Helenai reassures - It's a self-limiting, harmless phenomenon. He'll be alright in a few days." she tells Fury.
"Really?! - Fury retorts sceptically - Then why are the other blue fellows fine?" he asks.
"Because we are not Kree, you..." Nebula starts to reply, but thankfully both Loki and Thor press a hand over her mouth, preventing a diplomatic accident.
"You and I are both brown-skinned, but you are Terran, and I am Spartoi. - Helenai explains sternly - Similarly, there are very many blue-skinned species of sentients in the Universe, sir. You'd better not make generalising assumptions. It tends to be a sensitive topic." she adds gravely.

Fury grows dark pink in the face and his jaw clenches.
"Let's admit it is true and you have not brought a biological weapon to our planet. - Fury concedes between clenched teeth - What exactly are you doing here? What do you want from us?"
"They are here to help us, Director Fury. - Thor intervenes - I left Midgard seeking answers about the artefacts of power we have encountered in the last few years, and I found that the situation is more dire than we thought." he explains.
"Ah, yes. He mentioned Ragnarok. - Iron Man butts in - And that's not good, right?"
"That's almost the definition of not good. - Peter confirms - It's not good of major, Universe-ending proportions."
"And you are here for...?" a dark-skinned man in a grey exoskeleton suit asks.
"To help you stop it. - Galdiator replies suavely - We have a certain experience in these things now, and from what Thor said, you have too."
"You can bet on it, man." the grey-suited warrior replies.

"It is the opinion of the Council we represent that the best strategy to save the Universe from Thanos and his plans for Ragnarok, AKA the End, is to join forces and fight together. - Saskia continues - And since Terra seems to be a hotspot of activity, and out of the loop of the intel from the rest of the Cluster, we were sent to help." she continues.

"Help, eh? - Fury repeats - I wonder what's in it for you." he comments with a grimace.
"Oh, nothing. - Loki mocks him - Just a trifling thing like not dying a horrible death because of someone's whims." he spits.
"You remember that gag they put on you last time? - Fury asks - We still have it, you know? And I am still trying to find a reason why I shouldn't get the Avengers to throw you into a containment cell." he growls.
"You can try, One-Eye." Loki defies him.
"Oh great, he is trying to defy his old man by proxy, now..." Saskia comments, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Alright, let's all calm down. - she orders a moment later - That man is on probation following a regular trial from the Council. We will ensure his good behaviour, but will not tolerate undue hostility or restrictive measures towards him." she announces.
"That man and his alien cohorts destroyed nearly half of one of our biggest cities!" Fury hisses.
"The Council has hard evidence that attests that he is to be held only partially responsible for his actions in that situation." Saskia retorts calmly, every inch icy and collected like her mother.
"We will be happy to share it with you, as required, but since there are some sensitive issues involved, we'd much prefer doing this somewhere more private, if you please." Helenai adds, quelling both Fury's and Loki's protests.
"Yes, - J'rth agrees, opening his mouth for the first time since they landed - this is hardly the place to transact diplomatic business." he adds, puffing his thin chest.

Meanwhile, ignored by all, Little Groot trots back with the respirator mask held in his branches.
"I am Groot." he says cheerfully, handing it over to Ronan
"Thanks little one." he manages to say, then turns its attention to the dials controlling the settings.
The atmosphere on Hala is 14% oxygen. He turns the setting to 12%, lower than usual, but still survivable for a Kree. He needs to purge himself of the excess oxygen and regain clarity, at least until the diplomatic tensions are solved. Then maybe he can enjoy a bit of "high" with his meryw.

The mask attaches itself to the lower part if his face when pressed against it, creating a sort of seal. His breaths are announced by an unpleasant pneumatic noise, but the worst effects of the dizziness and the skin-tingling hypersensitivity recede almost immediately. It's a relief.

"You sound like Darth Vader." Peter comments, chuckling to himself.
"Ah yes, the villain from Star Wars... - Ronan manages to retort - We need to watch that movie, now that we are finally on Terra." he adds, rambling unnecessarily. He is not yet restored, but he is getting there.

"Hey! I never thought aliens knew Star Wars!" War Machine comments, sounding confused.
"Aliens don't. Terran cultural productions are not very widespread in the Cluster, and it's a pity because some of your music is really pleasant. - Ronan retorts, trying to stand - But Peter is half Terran. He watched it as a child and keeps on telling us what a masterpiece it is." he explains.

"I think their intentions are sincere." a woman with flowing reddish-brown hair and a red outfit intervenes. The look in her eyes reminds him of Vesta. She might be a psychic or a clairvoyant too.
"I cannot sense hostility or greed in them, they might be really here to help us. - she continues placidly - And you know we need help, sir. Bad times are coming. We should at least hear them out." she adds with a shudder.

A man is standing next to her, tall and muscular, clad in a skintight bodysuit and a cape. His skin is bright red, like freshly spilled Terran blood, inlaid with shiny silver metal, his eyes are clear grey, innocent and old at the same time, and one of the Infinity Gems, shining yellow, is embedded in his forehead. It is the Soul Gem, and he is its master.

Vision sets a hand on the woman's shoulder and gives her a loving smile, then pads quietly out of the Terran group and towards them, followed closely by his companion.
They stop next to where Ronan, Peter and Gamora are standing and Vision gives them an interested, curious look.
"I am sure I never met you before, but you feel familiar." the android says gently.

Once more, like when Loki first appeared carrying the Space Gem, Ronan is pervaded by a strong feeling of recollection and familiarity. A strange power buzzes through him for a moment as the android quests towards them, and this time, judging from their expressions, he is sure that Peter and Gamora are feeling it too, as are Rocket and Drax.
Was their contact with the Power Gem enough to make them sensitive to the presence of all Infinity Gems?

"They taste purple, like blood and magic." the woman says enigmatically.
The android smiles and withdraws his questing, and they move away from them and towards Thor, Gamora and Loki.
"Hello, father. - he greets the Asgardian with another placid smile - Ultron said that he was only the beginning, and that humans were doomed. I would like to prove my half-brother wrong, with your help and that of the many worthy heroes you brought with you." he adds.
"We will, son. - Thor reassures him, setting a hand on his shoulder - Oh, and by the way, this is Loki, my brother. He will fight with us." he announces, pointing at the Jothunn.

"Hello, uncle." Vision says, extending a hand to touch Loki's face. Loki falters between letting him and backing off, but ultimately decides to stand his ground.
"You have one inside of yourself too. - the android says with soft wonder as soon as his fingers touch Loki's cheek - Space. You are the keeper of the Space Gem." he declares without doubt.
"I can feel it too. - the woman concurs - It's like blue ice and the void between the stars, cold and lonely and scary. You are not scared, but you ache like a bone broken too often." she adds, placing her hand on top of Vision's hand.
"I've seen things. I don't scare easily." Loki retorts, feigning calm.
"Show them to us. Make us understand." the woman offers.
"You will go mad if I do." the Jothunn warns.
"I already am." the woman retorts.
"And that makes two of us." Loki quips, but closes his eyes and lets them in.

Yellow light spreads from the android's red fingers to Loki's blue flesh, and the two gems resonate with a heart-rending harmony.
Ronan feels it vibrate within him, and for a moment, as Vision calls forth the Space Gem to momentarily manifest on Loki's forehead, his eyes are clouded with the same purple haze as when he held the Orb, and he can feel that his companions are feeling the same, as if they were all part of one single being.

It fades in a moment, but it leaves him even more shaken than the brief resonance they experienced earlier.
Combined with his oxygen-related problem, it translates into him being hardly able to stand.

"I don't know what the hell you're doing, junior, but sure it looks pretty." Iron Man comments.
Vision does not reply. His eyes are closed and a small frown of concentration has appeared on his smooth, timeless face.
"So much pain... - the woman whispers between gritted teeth - You were broken, already, but he shattered you. You were never meant to succeed, only to destroy and be destroyed in turn." she adds.
"I know. But I am no one's tool now." Loki whispers with evident effort.

This seems to be a good answer, because Vision and the woman let him go, and the Terran nearly folds into the android's arms, drained by the effort.
"He is no danger to us now. I can feel it." she announces feebly, letting her partner support her.
"No danger?! - Fury exclaims - Do you know what that madman's done to New York?!" he insists.
"I know what he has done, and I know what has been done to him to push him to it. - the woman retorts, giving Fury a creepy blank stare - I also know what he has done since, and I am telling you: he is not a danger to us, now."

The Jothunn is panting heavily from the effort of whatever mind-power the three of them have been using and possibly by what he has been coaxed to recall. He staggers on his feet and flushes darkly, embarrassed, like a cat that has broken its illusion of perfect grace.
"I hope that you don't have to do this ever again." he comments, leaning on Nebula to stay upright. His blue skin is pale and covered by a sheen of sweat.

"I am sorry, we didn't mean to hurt you, uncle. - Vision apologises - We didn't expect it to feel so intense. It seems like the Gems respond to one another. They want to be reunited." he adds, still smiling.

"What the hell was that?! What does it mean?!" Fury asks.

"It means that we have a lot to talk about." Helenai declares grimly.