Chapter III:

Xandar

The Milano landed on Xandar at precisely midnight with the Electric Light Orchestra as the landing music. That's right, Peter Quill has music specifically selected for landing. Fittingly, it was "Don't Bring Me Down".

"I have some personal business to take care of Quill," Rocket said loudly over the music. "I'll be right back."

"I'm coming with you!" Drax shouted, also to outdo the music.

Peter smiled and turned down the music a little. He looked at his two companions, who were standing near each other behind the captain's chair. Gamora was in the co-pilot's seat eating the last remains of some oatmeal, looking at all three of them as if she were stuck in a real life version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

"If it's so personal," Gamora said. "then why did Drax over to come with you?"

"He's not." Rocket said. "It's my business." He placed his paw on his torso, as if to signify that he was going alone and intentionally expecting everyone else to fuel the ship, clean it a little perhaps and get on with their lives.

Drax looked down at his friend somewhat perplexed for five minutes earlier Rocket said that he could come along. "But you said-"

The raccoon glared at him and at a poor attempt at whispering said to him, "Ixnay on the amscray."

Drax, who didn't get the point, on this or anything else about the English language, let alone Pig Latin, who also didn't understand the simple concept of whispering, said rather audibly, "What is this Ixnay and why is he on Amscray?"

Rocket gave him "The Jack Benny", otherwise known as the deadpan stare.

"What?" Drax asked. "Rocket?" He waved his hand in front of the rodent. "Move your eyelids if you're alive."

Rocket blinked.

"Good," Drax said, "now, why are you staring at me like that?"

Rocket said nothing. He just continued with the Jack Benny and Drax waved his hand in front of him again.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Drax asked.

Rocket held up his hand, the answer being five of course. The raccoon leaned his head down, looked at the burling raging machine. He smiled and winked.

"I don't understand what you're trying to do." Drax said.

The raccoon held out his hand and Drax grabbed it, shaking it. "Now," Rocket said, "just follow my lead alright."

Drax nodded.

Fittingly the mix tape stopped on the song that Rocket was thinking of to distract the rest of them long enough so that he and Drax could get of there and deliver the score. The raccoon walked over to the stereo and turned up the music. A choir started singing as Rocket went downstairs to retrieve a bag and the contents of the his safe which were both at the foot of the stairs.

Peter and Gamora looked at Drax, "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" They said.

Drax shook his head, "He's senile."

"Heard that!" Rocket called as he ascending the stairs again, burlap sack in tow. It was a lot heavier than one Technetium bullet for a weapon that no longer existed.

"What's in the bag?" Peter asked.

"Personal business." The raccoon said.

"Alright," Peter said. "just be safe, okay?"

Rocket nodded. The lyrics to the song were about to start. The raccoon started singing as he opened the cockpit hatch. "I saw her today, at the reception, a glass of wine in her hand."

Peter smiled and joined in. "I knew she was gonna met her connection and her feet was a footloose man."

They did a duet. "You can't always get what you want, you can't always get what you want, you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, then well might find, you get what you need!"

Drax climbed out of the ship and followed Rocket to their destination- the Broker. As they entered the main square, the last street light turned off. The darkness of the buildings the overcast clouds, made the moon helpless in this situation. The fountain however, offered the soothing sound of flowing water so the silence and darkness wasn't totally off-putting. Rocket sat his burlap sack on the ground and grabbed his prize. The Technetium bullet gave off a silvery glow, despite there being no light source around.

"Well," Rocket said, "this is interesting."

"Why is it glowing like that?" Drax asked.

"Because it's radioactive." Rocket answered. "Don't worry, I've contained it- that's why it's a bullet. The element isn't the bullet itself, but it's inside of it."

"Wouldn't the bullet be affected then?" Drax asked.

"In theory yes, but this element is different."

"Why is that?"

"Because," Rocket said, "this one was created in the same lab that- well, created me, if you want to get technical."

The raccoon pulled out the other object he put in the sack, a new weapon of his. He loaded it in the chamber slowly, most because he loved to hear the click, lock and ease of the mechanics. It made him eager to charge into heavy fire and use it on whatever invading force there was. Rocket walked towards the Broker's place of business with Drax in tow.

Knocking on the steel door three times with no results. The raccoon gave up and started screaming into the sky. "Open up you damn psychopathic freak!"

"Rocket," Drax said, "perhaps it would be more beneficial to wait until the sun rises."

"By then a certain Someone might not be where I want him to." Rocket said. "We have to do this now."

The raccoon kicked the door twice. "Open up!"

As Rocket began throwing a mini-tantrum, Drax looked over at the side of the door and noticed a red button and a speaker. He walked over to the wall, pressed the red button and spoke.

"Yes, we're here to deliver your bullet." He said. He let go of the button.

"Thank you for using the intercom," the voice, which was that of the Broker said. "Most people don't appreciate it. They just kick the door and scream like a banshee."

Rocket rolled his eyes, "It's a door, what else are you supposed to do to it?"

"I'll be down in the minute," The Broker said, "be sure to tell your friend whoever you are, to behave himself."

Drax nodded and turned towards Rocket. "Behave yourself."

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Whatever, the only reason I brought you along is because you know what's about to go down."

"I do," Drax said, "and to be honest, I don't agree with it."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Rocket asked, looking at his friend with all serenity, "I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do." Drax replied. "You could walk away right now and never speak of this."

"I can't do that." The raccoon said. "This means more than just money-"

"Your life then?"

Rocket turned towards Drax and sighed, "Yeah, that's exactly it. It means more than my life because this is about my life."

"Why are you speaking as if you were about to die?"

Rocket said nothing. He just looked at the door and smiled a little. "Every rose has its thorn, just like every night, has its dawn, just like every cowboy, sings a sad, sad song, every rose has its thorn."

"Yeah it does."

Rocket turned around and beheld Peter Quill with his trusty Walkman, Gamora and Groot standing there looking concerned as to what he was talking about. The walking talking lovable tree stepped forward, kneeled and said the only words he could.

"I'm alright," Rocket said, "just a bit melancholy."

Groot's eyes sparkled a bit, it looked like he was about to cry.

"Oh don't give me that face!" The raccoon said. "You know I'm not sentimental."

"I am Groot." Groot said having a hard time believing it.

"Believe it because I'm not. I'm the least sentimental person in the universe." Rocket looked around at every single one of them. "If it wasn't for Quill, I'd probably have you all in for a nice lump of cash right now."

The Broker opened his door. The raccoon turned around and smiled. "Sorry to disturb you sir, but I have the element, as commissioned."

"Excellent!" The Broker said smiling. "Mind if I see it?"

Rocket pulled the bullet out from his burlap sack and held it in his hands a moment. "First before I hand this over to ya," the raccoon said, "I would like to know who purchased such a fine commodity."

"I am not at liberty to say." The Broker said. "We can however talk about why you agreed to the terms."

"I know why I agreed to the terms," Rocket said, "I just want to know why someone would want this? I mean, it's not like it could be controlled for a weapon, it can't be harnessed as for power, it can't be transferred into fuel, it can't be used to cause the destruction of the galaxies, it can't be used for anything destructive so why would anyone want this?"

"Because of what it can do." The man replied.

"Which is?"

The Broker smiled and went back inside. "Come this way please." He said. Rocket, along with the rest of his team, followed. The raccoon turned towards Gamora.

"If you're looking for an apology you're not going to get one from me." Rocket said.

"I'm not here for an apology-" Gamora replied.

Rocket stopped a moment and looked back at her in slight confusion. Usually he was right about these kind of things but this, "I'm not here for an apology" business threw him off.

"Then what are you here for?" Rocket asked.

Gamora smiled slyly and said, "I told you so."

Rocket let her pass and he just stared at her for a second, confused, annoyed and somewhat peeved. Groot smiled at his companion and patted his shoulder.

"I am Groot."

"Again, I'm fine. Just confused."

The plant anamorphous being looked at him concernedly, and he didn't have to say anything for Rocket to respond.

"Why are women so hard to read?"

Groot shrugged his shoulders.

"Rocket!" The Broker called. "The bullet please!"

"Coming sir!" The raccoon said and quickly hoofed it to the front of the party.

The Broker lead them to a room that required a four digit password to enter. Never a good sign.

Before opening the door, the Broker walked to a closet with six custom made suits of the same size (unfortunately). "Everyone who can needs to put these on." He said.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Because the room we're about to go into is literally Absolute Zero." The Broker replied. Turning to Rocket, he reached out his hands.

"May I have the bullet please?"

"Not until I go in there and see what it is you plan to do with it." Rocket said.

"Sorry, but you can't," said the Broker, "you have to wear one of these suits."

"Fine, but answer me this one question- will I be compensated?"

The Broker nodded, "Of course you will my fury friend. Of course you will."

Rocket stared at him very disdainfully, "I'm willing to look past this for about five seconds so you better get your ass in there."

The raccoon handed the Broker the bullet and quickly ushered everyone who could, so Peter, Drax and Gamora, inside.

The room was dark, save for a blue light in the shape of a circle on the floor. The only thing in this room was a large podium with a touch screen attached to the front. The Broker walked over to the touch screen and pressed his index finger on it. The top of the podium opened up, revealing a display case with one hole at the end of it, just large enough for a beam of plasma.

"How is this possible?" Gamora said, shivering a little, "You can't have a room this cold."

"That's what they said about splitting the atom," The Broker said, "but it turns out that yes, you can split the atom. Which ironically, this little darling relates to that a little."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Patience, Mister Quill, patience." The Broker placed the bullet in the display case and quickly closed it. "Now, to explain. This bullet that your comrade retrieved contains an element that is extremely unstable and rare to find the universe, let alone the galaxy. It was created the year that Mister Quill calls 1937 in a place called Italy by a group of scientists. They were attempting to split the atom and did so with two elements, this one, Technetium, otherwise known as Element 43 and another called Rhenium, also known as Element 75. 43 however was problematic to the atom spiting process. As it turns out, the radiation Element 43 prneoduced was too unstable, too dangerous to contain. When the process was tested with Rhenium and Uranium to see if it would stabilize, it failed and caused well-" he paused a moment and turned towards Peter Quill, "let's just say the inspiration for Adolf Hitler's murder machines."

"That's not good." Peter said.

"Indeed," the Broker said, "it cost Earth billions of causalities and when we Xandarians aided you to stop the mess that's when it all went downhill."

"What, did one of your scientists figure out how to stabilize it?" Peter asked.

"Yes, you and Rocket know him very well." The Broker replied.

"Oh really, and who was he?"

The Broker smiled, "Why Mister Quill, he's your father."

As Rocket and Groot waited outside, a little girl walked into the room. She was dressed in a light blue nightgown and looked like she was about fifteen. Looking over to Rocket and Groot, the girl walked over very nonchalantly and immediately started asking questions.

"Is my father in there?"

"Depends," Rocket said, "is he the Broker?"

The girl nodded.

"Yeah, he's in there- but he's doin' business for me," Rocket replied, taking a small but nevertheless defensive step toward her, "he ain't got to time to read you a bedtime story."

She gave the raccoon a glare, (which in truth, Rocket thought was pretty okay) and turned towards Groot and smiled, "My name is Anastasia."

"I am Groot." Groot repiled.

"Pleasure to meet you," Anastasia said, "if you don't mind me asking, what business do you have with my father anyway?"

"The personal kind." Rocket replied.

"Oh I see," the girl said smiling a bit, "you're a shut in."

Rocket laughed, "I am not a shut in. I'm very open."

"I am Groot." The tree-man said.

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Thanks for being there for me."

"You can understand what he means?" Anastasia asked.

"Yeah," Rocket said, "it's sort of thing you pick up once you've been around him long enough." The raccoon moved to sit on the floor and Anastasia noticed that he looked down on the floor as if he were about to cry.

The girl sat down next to him. "Whenever I'm scared about something, father always quotes Shakespeare."

"Who?" Rocket asked.

"William Shakespeare," Anastasia said. "He's from Earth, or at least he was. He wrote plays."

"Oh goodie, a playwright, like we need more of those."

"Will you listen for a second?" the girl asked somewhat pleadingly, "It might make you feel better."

Rocket huffed and grumbled but complied anyway. He honestly did not see the point in listening to her quote a playwright, for he had no interest in plays. He's never seen or read one before, it's more an Earth only tradition but for some reason the Broker found it necessary to teach his daughter about them. She spoke the words of Theseus

"The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake. And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect, takes it in might, not merit."

Rocket had no idea what that meant, but he knew that this kid was intelligent enough to know his emotions and for some reason, it did make him feel better. To know that someone wants to help you is comforting I suppose. Rocket thought, Even though I have no idea what any of it meant, it felt good to hear it. Maybe that Shakespeare guy was onto something.

"What does that mean?" Rocket asked.

"It means that someone is going to recognize effort rather than the skill at which you perform something. Even if you do something terribly it does not mean that you at least tried." She said.

"So this relates to me how?"

"Depends," Anastasia said, "if the personal business is something that you did wrong or something that someone else did wrong."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Rocket said, standing up, "it's the scientists, they were the ones who did something wrong."

The raccoon walked back towards the front of the building just as the front door exploded in his face.