Sire turned away. He was the first to break the staredown and Rocket wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing, but it sure felt like a victory.

"THEEL!" Sire cried, in a voice barely holding back rage.

The blast doors burst open, and in scurried the piggy little recorder. "Yes Sire, I shall dispose of the-" He came to an abrupt halt, the rest of his sentence cut short by the realisation that Rocket was grinning at him. And not dead.

The raccoon waved. "Hiiiiiiii."

Theel was too dumbfounded to offer a reply.

The High Evolutionary chose to ignore the interaction and went on addressing his chief recorder. "You will escort P13 to the medbay. I can't stand the sight of his pitiful limp. Tend to his-"

"Hell no." Rocket spat, giving voice to what he and Theel were both thinking. "I tend to my own frickin' hurts, Sire. Last thing I need is this fat-fingered flarknard-"

"YOU WILL HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" Sire roared, and the raccoon's muzzle snapped shut. The last thing he needed was to talk himself back into immediate danger. "Theel, you will escort P13 to the medbay and keep an eye on him while he tends to his injuries. Tell Vim to arrange a ship, and bring him anything within reason that he might require. You will both find me in the observatory." Sire turned back to glare at Rocket, his face twisted in pure revulsion. "We have a deal, P13. Now get out of my sight."

Rocket did not need to be told twice, and practically skipped out of the lobby. He'd have preferred to take his time with it, really rub his continued survival into his creator's face, but there was only so much he was ready to gamble with. The doors slammed shut behind him, narrowly avoiding his tail-tip, and Rocket found himself breathing a sigh of relief.

He was still alive… Somehow… he was still alive…


Peter raced along the streets of Corix, the overgrown goblin (Gamora had said a bunch of names earlier but Quill had no idea which one belonged to the polearm-wielding maniac chasing after him) in hot pursuit. Despite the former Ravager's periodic use of his rocket boots to clear crowds and similar obstacles, Glaive was gaining on him. Not for the first time Peter found himself wondering why so many alien species physically eclipsed Terrans… or well, half-Terrans in his case.

"Santa called, he wants his little helper back!" he called, lobbing a gravity mine behind his back.

Corvus cut it clean in half before it hit the ground, but was unable to do the same for the ball of lightning Quill fired right after.

"Normally I don't really do this, but I kind of get the impression you're a bad guy sooooo," Quill swapped his ammo feed and filled the air with the sound of his blasters.

Corvus staggered, but seemed to be made of the same impervious material as Drax. Seeing that his weaponry was having no effect on the extraterrestrial, beyond pissing him off even more, the legendary Star-Lord went right back to running for his life.

He'd been planning on doing it a bit more gracefully but in his haste to get away and activate his rocket boots, Quill fell on his face. Very grateful that he already had his mask active, he found himself sliding across the ground and right into a crowd of black market shoppers who promptly fell over like skittles.

Luckily, he was used to falling over and quickly managed to climb to his feet.

Unfortunately, Glaive had caught up to him.

Quill only just managed to duck under the weapon's initial swing.

"If this is about Gamora I'd just like to say we're not official!" Peter scrambled backwards, as dumb as it sounded he could feel the blade slicing through the very air in front of him. "Well, not yet anyways."

"Die quietly!" Corvus snarled. "I have no interest in your chatter."

"But we do have an unspoken thing," Quill went on, grabbing a bottle of highly concentrated Baddoon wine from one of the stands and throwing it at his opponent. "The name's Quill by the way!" he called, planting a boot into Glaive's middle and simultaneously activating the attached rockets so that he flew backwards and set the wine aflame. "Peter Quill. But you can call me Star-Lord!"

Quill knew better than to think he'd won though and wasted no time fleeing the scene. His instincts were rewarded, for Corvus slammed into the Milano's windshield just as it closed behind him.

The former Ravager couldn't hold back a bit of the wild laughter that often came from the relief of surviving a brush with death. It turned into a shriek as Corvus stabbed the point of his glaive straight through the aeroglass and lacking any better ideas, Quill raced out of the cockpit and into the Milano's common area.

"I am Groot!" greeted the tree, lifting Rocket's infoglass off the table and proudly holding it for Quill to see.

"Not now Groot- hey that actually looks really-" he came to an abrupt halt, tilted his head to the side so that it matched the screen and read Groot's messy handwriting. "'Rocket needs halp'- you mispelled 'help' there- oh shit!"

The sound of shattering glass from upstairs forced Peter to repeat himself and reminded him of the reason he'd come here in the first place.

"You run fast Terran," Corvus called, sounding ever so slightly out of breath. "But not nearly fast enough." The alien ignored the stairs entirely and leapt down into the common area. The grin he wore vanished instantly at the sight of the Hadron Enforcer his opponent was wielding.

"I beg to differ. Hasta la vista, baby." Quill pulled the trigger… and recalled an incident from earlier in the cycle.

"How are they a health hazard?" Drax demanded, frowning at the grinning Rocket he was currently losing an argument to. "My blades would never spontaneously combust."

"Neither would my guns!" The raccoon pointed out, far more certain of that fact than anyone else in the room. "Your knives are always gonna be sharp- sure they'd get dull eventually but you can still stab someone with 'em. But my stuff? Lose the ammo and they're just fancy-looking lumps of metal. Even you, my beautiful, moon-busting darling." And here Rocket gave the Hadron Enforcer a kiss.

It was still a heavy fancy-looking lump of metal so Quill's next move was throwing the whole thing at Corvus and watching in horror as the Hadron Enforcer was sliced clean in two.

He turned to Groot. "Don't tell Rocket I did that!" Because if Gamora's brother didn't kill him, the raccoon definitely would.

Only now did Corvus seem to notice the tree's presence. His grin returned and Quill felt a pit open in his stomach as he realised he was no longer Glaive's primary target.

"Don't worry Terran. He won't get the chance to."

"I am Groot!" the tree roared in defiance, drawing a root out of the ground and forming it into a leg.

"What fine last words." Glaive raised his glaive for the killing blow.

Quill threw the first thing his fist closed on at his opponent and by sheer luck- it happened to be Rocket's prototype aerorig. It hit Corvus on the back of the head and the nanotech instantly burst into life, spreading a crude breastplate over the alien's face and causing him to miss Groot entirely and slice through the table instead.

"I am Grooooot!" Groot cried in alarm as his pot fell to the ground and shattered around him.

With a similar, albeit muffled sound, Corvus raised a hand to wrench the nanotech off, only for the jetpack to burst into life and bounce him into the bulkhead.

Quill wasted no time pressing his advantage, grabbed the screaming Corvus by the legs, and swung him in the direction of an open door. The jetpack shut off abruptly, and turned back on again- sending Glaive flying into Rocket's room.

Without pausing to think, Quill slammed the door shut behind him- and just in the nick of time because he could hear the tell-tale click of one of Rocket's homemade explosives. There was a deafening BOOM! as the entire Milano shook from the impact and smoke rose even from between the cracks of the blast door.

If that doesn't stop the guy then nothing will… Quill whirled back around. "Groot! Groot you okay?"

"I am Groot!" Groot grooted in the affirmative, visibly delighted by the apparent destruction. He was forming legs out of his roots, surrounded by the shattered remains of his old pot.

"Good. I'm glad." He jabbed a thumb at the blast door. "If Rocket asks… that idiot did that all by himself, okay?"

"I am Groot?" Groot rubbed two fingers together in the universal symbol of 'payment' and Quill didn't need Rocket to translate to know that the tree was asking 'What's in it for me?'

"Er- my entire supply of jellybeans?"

"I am Groot." Groot put a hand on his chin as if considering the offer.

"And my marshmallows too?"

"I am Groot." Groot beamed, clapping his hands together in pure delight.

Peter shook his head in disbelief. "Good to see Rocket's already taught you everything you need to know about extortion."


Rocket had never liked Theel. Theel was the cruel one who made testing and modification hurt more than it should have. Theel was the one who threw him back into his cage with unnecessary force. Theel was the one who had never pretended Rocket was anything more than a freak... Somehow that made Rocket hate him less. Sure, the guy was a krutacking scutstain, but at least he'd never lied...

"So, how've you been?" Rocket asked conversationally as the two rode an elevator down to the medbay.

Theel merely glanced down at him, his face twisted in disgust.

"Don't look at me like that. It's your fault I'm this way."

"And your fault you're still alive," Theel shot back with that insipid little snarl of his.

Rocket snarled back. Much more impressively. "Did you know that what you guys did to me is banned in every major system in the galaxy? Do you know how bad something's gotta be for every major system to agree that it's that bad?"

"I hope you're not stupid enough to expect an apology," the recorder sneered, ushering Rocket forwards as the doors opened with a 'bing!'

Briefly, Rocket wondered if building a flamethrower out of the thermostat and barbecuing his toady would make Sire reconsider their agreement. Probably not, but Rocket knew better than to test him and Theel was not worth risking his life for. Besides, what had he been expecting? It was a little too late for apologies.

"A 'sorry' would be nice. But the first thing I want are some frickin' clothes." He clambered onto the too-big med-table so he and the recorder were at eye level. "I get you guys were going to kill me and all, but did you really have to take my pants off for that?"

Theel glared at him, his piggy little eyes awash with confusion. No doubt he wasn't used to taking orders from any of Sire's experiments.

Rocket went on. "You know my measurements, and I ain't doing any job for Sire butt-naked. I also want six of those memory thingies Sire made. Two times as many communicators, because those always blow up and I'll need some spares if I wanna keep in touch, and I'll need some containment modules matching- hang on-" he scratched a bunch of numbers onto the table and underlined them twice. "-These specifications exactly. Six at least, but eight or nine would be better. Oh and I need a ceramic twelve inches in diameter. I ain't picky about the colour but it's gotta have flower patterns on the side and it can't be yellow."

Theel raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Rocket shrugged. "I took up gardening."

"Anything else?" The recorder demanded icily.

"Yeah, actually, I'd like some frickin' ice cream, with sprinkles on top. Any flavour but chocolate, I'm not picky. And while you're at it I want a gun. Again, not picky, but Lylla crumpled mine earlier and as a general rule I don't go anywhere without-"

"You can't have a gun." Theel snapped. "I don't know what you did to Sire to convince him to keep you alive but-"

"Sire said to get me anything I asked for," Rocket interrupted.

"Within reason."

"A gun is reasonable!" The raccoon raised a paw to silence the recorder. "Do you think I'm stupid? Be honest."

After a long pause Theel spat out a 'Yes'.

Rocket was momentarily stunned that Theel had the balls to say that to his face. Then he scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "And what exactly does that make you seeing as I'm the smartest one here?" He jabbed a claw at the thermostat. "I could turn that into an improvised flamethrower in two minutes flat. I can turn a medpack into a deathpack in half that time. If I wanted to kill you- and for the record I very much do- and if I could get away with it, you'd already be dead!" Rocket let the threat linger for a moment, watching with some satisfaction as Theel's face went three shades paler before sighing in resignation. "Unfortunately for all parties involved, I can't. You saw how that trick ended with Sire, I ain't gonna try it again. I just want a gun for the sake of having one. The bigger the better."

Properly cowed, the recorder nodded apprehensively. "Anything else?"

"No, that'll be all." Rocket shooed Theel away and got to work on himself.

Nothing was broken, he'd sprained his leg, his shoulder had bruised and he had a gash on his forehead that was a little too visible for his liking. The last thing he needed after a day like this was the others fussing over him. He did his best to make it small and cover it with his fur but it was a token effort. In any case there was nothing to do for his limp but walk it off and no way of doing that without the Guardians noticing. The last thing he wanted was their pity but if that's what it took to survive, so be it. He'd done worse.

Theel returned with the items he requested and Rocket found himself biting back a snarl as he clambered into far-too-big clothes. But he could disintegrate them later, first he had to get the hell out of the metaphorical blast zone. More tempted than ever to murder Theel, Rocket checked the bag to make sure everything he requested was there, and grunted in approval of the recorder's choice of ceramic.

"So what now?" the raccoon asked, slinging the too-big bag over his shoulder.

"Sire is expecting you," Theel said, smirking at the dread that momentarily flashed across Rocket's face.

"Can't skip the goodbyes, can I?" the raccoon grumbled half-heartedly, already knowing the answer. "Say Theel, how much manpower do you think Sire would spend on getting your brain back?"

They both knew the answer to that question and that wiped the smile right off the recorder's face. Rocket busied himself with the ice cream, casually twirling the blaster around with his other paw and delighting in how much it made Theel squirm. He did his best to ignore the distant chattering of lower life forms that called to him from a dark corridor that Rocket knew lead to the cold, cramped cages he'd once called home...

Behemoth stood guard in front of the Observatory and glared bloody murder as Rocket tossed him the cornetto wrapper.

"Incinerate this for me, will ya?"

The doors hissed open and Rocket strode in. Sire had his back to him, and stood in front of a glass panel overlooking a brightly-lit white room.

"I apologise if the articles of clothing are not to your tastes. We don't generally play dress up with our experiments."

"Apology not accepted. No harm done though, not that you'd ever ask but pink is my favourite colour. I think it really brings out my…" Rocket trailed off as he found himself standing besides the High Evolutionary and followed his gaze to where it fell upon Batch 89.

Floor, J0100 and Lylla were holding appendages, and skipping around in a wide circle around Teefs who had his flippers over his eyes. It wasn't a game Rocket was familiar with, but they were all wearing stupid grins so it must have been a fun one.

That knocked the fight out of him harder than any amount of gravity manipulation. He placed a paw on the glass, and watched as Teefs pointed a flipper at Floor, who promptly fell over laughing.

"How are they still alive?" Rocket asked, voice husky as he failed utterly at making it sound like a casual inquiry.

Sire's lips twisted into a smile. "I can create complex, intelligent life out of generic biomatter and you think I'm incapable of patching up a few bullet holes? What you should be asking is why."

"Why, then?" the raccoon grumbled, too tired to do anything but play along.

"You see, when you took advantage of my, ah, lapse in judgement, I had an epiphany. Brainmatter is more than just the workings of biochemistry. Nature could only go so far. Nurture was almost as important. So, having lost you I brought Batch 89 back to life- I suspended their incineration and let them continue developing. I then went about trying to replicate you. It was… difficult, some might say wasteful even. I feel like J0100 has come quite close but alas, no pale reflection can hold a candle to the original."

Rocket shuddered.

Sire didn't care enough for Batch 89 to discuss them further and instead turned to frown at Rocket. "Theel said you requested memory transmitters. Why?"

Grateful for the change of subject, Rocket shrugged and turned to meet his inquiry with a scowl. "Might come in handy. I come across anyone who might know something about the stones, I stick one on their head and see if they know anything. Took a bunch so I can improve on the design a bit, and make some spares if I need 'em. It's a long shot but I've already got one target in mind." Rocket gave the blaster a casual twirl. "You ever heard of the Collector? He's some rich douche with fancy clothing and awful taste in housekeeping. Before we saved Xandar we tried selling him the d'ast orb and-"

"And it stands to reason that if Tivan expressed an interest in one, he would be similarly interested in others." Sire gave him another one of those repulsive proud smiles. "A reasonable deduction."

"I figures I don't even need to look too hard for him. We kinda blew up his collection the last time we were there and well, something tells me he ain't too happy about that. The modules are to contain the stones- they mess you up a bit if you touch them directly- and the comms are so I can send you discreet messages and whatnot. I'll tinker them some, make them one-way lines. Harder to trace, easier to wipe if necessary."

"The gun?"

"I just wanted a gun." Rocket shrugged. "My current gameplan is to meet back up with the other Guardians, act like none of this happened, and then continue business as usual. There's a small chance we run into a stone beforehand and if that does happen I'll let you know. Most likely though that purple one on Xandar's first on the list. I'll send word as soon as I've got a shot at it. That's when I'll need you to send them in, with orders to follow any plan I make."

"Well then," Sire turned away with a flourish, and clapped his hands in apparent delight. "It sounds like you're all set to go."

"Not quite." Rocket jabbed a claw back at the glass without looking. "I want five minutes."


"You've grown sloppy, Gamora," Proxima taunted as sparks flew from their clashing weaponry. "Tell me, was it the Terran or father's favouritism that made you so weak?"

"You are the one too weak to see that what you're doing is wrong," Gamora shot back, twisting her sword around and sending the three-pronged spear flying out of her sister's grip.

"We're balancing the universe," Proxima snarled, drawing another blade in time to parry Gamora's killing blow. "Bringing life and joy to countless worlds and civili-"

An elbow to the face cut short the rest of her sentence. Gamora followed up with a sweep of her legs that knocked Proxima onto her back. "You talk too much," the zehoberei snapped, stabbing her sword down.

Proxima only just managed to roll out of the way. She got to her feet, and managed to retrieve her spear as Gamora drew her blade from out of the ground. "I will enjoy watching father's retribution."

"I do not fear father."

"Yes you do." Proxima sneered. "But do not worry, Nebula will not be long in joining you. And then Father will be certain to favour me." A bolt of plasma flew out of her spear, and Gamora only just managed to deflect it. "I will be his favourite daughter. His only daughter!"

"Perhaps you already are," Drax mused, and Gamora swore the Kylosian had a way of being invisible sometimes. He was dripping wet, and for some reason still wearing a shower cap.

Proxima whirled on the spot to face her new opponent and was rewarded with a fist to the face.


Batch 89 were so enthralled in their strange new game that they didn't notice the raccoon standing awkwardly at the doorway. He still wasn't entirely sure what the rules were, but when Lylla moved her paws out of her face and pointed at Floor the rabbit fell over with a squeal of delight that simultaneously toppled Teefs and J0100.

"Again! Again!"

"Give us a minute L, I'm exhausted," Teefs wheezed out between chuckles. "I know all days are the same length but this one felt particularly… long."

"You can thank Maskface for that, 95." J0100 sat up, and grinned toothily. "Or should I call you 'Denticle'?"

They all laughed at that and Rocket felt a pit form inside of him. Emotionally unprepared to know what his Batchmates thought of him behind his back, the raccoon cleared his throat with unnecessary volume.

"P13!" Floor cheered, as if oblivious to the fact that she'd just been laughing at him. The rest had the grace to look somewhat ashamed.

"Hey," said Rocket, voice small. He regretted asking for this. He should have just left. Now Sire would know just how pathetic he was… He stared at his fellow freaks. It was still hard to believe they were real but the soreness he felt definitely was... Rocket resisted the urge to pinch himself.

"Everything okay?" asked Lylla, and Rocket realized he'd been staring and turned his eyes to the floor.

"Not yet no, but er- it will be. Sire's got a job for me, well- for us actually so we'll see each other again. Er- soon, maybe."

"That sounds good," Lylla sounded more uncertain than she'd probably intended to be.

"Y-yeah, I think." There came another awkward pause as Rocket struggled to form his next sentence. "I wanted…" he cleared his throat. "The last time I was here… When I left I didn't get the chance to say goodbye. So er- I'm doing that now."

"You mean you're leaving already?" asked J0100.

"But you just got here!" Teefs protested.

"Play one more game first?" pleaded Floor, and Rocket was sorely tempted… but he knew Sire was watching and he knew the longer he stayed the more likely he was to turn into an emotionalistic mess.

"Not right now I er- like I said I just came to say goodbye. So er- see you later, I guess." With an awkward half-wave, Rocket turned to leave, tail swishing behind him. Thankfully, the soundproof door slammed shut before he caught their goodbyes.

He glared at the smirking Theel, and adjusted his grip on Groot's ceramic. "Alright, that's done. I don't wanna spend another minute on this hunk of junk. What ship am I taking?"

He was lead to the spaceport, where Sire was already waiting for him besides a small, one-man ship, eerily similar in design to the one Rocket had first escaped with.

"I hope you know you're not as funny as you think you are," the raccoon grumbled.

Sire grinned at that. "Safe travels, P13. I look forwards to keeping in-"

"Cut the crap." Rocket snapped, too tired to care that he was risking far too much by talking back. "You hate me. I hate you. I'm doing you a solid coz you have something I want and the only reason I'm still breathing is because I can get you something you want. What we have is strictly transactional. I step a toe out of line, I die horribly. What's the point of pretending any different?"

Sire's smile curdled like milk. "I expect frequent updates."

"You'll get your updates," the raccoon grunted, clambering into the cockpit and adjusting the too-big controls so that they were easier for him to manage.

"Sire, with all due respect," Theel whispered. "I'm not sure trusting him is-"

"Making me was the mistake, Theel!" Rocket snapped again, more annoyed than anything because if any idiot should know how good his hearing was, it was one of the idiots responsible for his existence. "And for the record, Sire ain't trusting me. Sire's trusting my sense of self-preservation and seeing as I'm still alive and having this conversation with you, and y'know not a fellow rug, I'd say it's a good bet I'll keep my word. I'm the one with no reason to think he'll stick to his."

Sire smiled pointedly at that. "Safe travels, P13."

Rocket slammed the windshield shut without another word, fired up the engines and wasted no time blasting out of the spaceport and into the dull and desolate sky.


Quill had sadly left earth before Avatar the Last Airbender was a thing, but had he watched the show he a) would have liked it a lot and b) he'd have instantly likened Ebony and Cosmo's duel to a bending battle. It was easily the greatest Agni Kai in the history of Corix 85 (nevermind that there was no actual fire involved). Chunks of building, shopping stands, the occasional vehicle- the two were endlessly hurling anything and everything at each other. Ebony was making wide sweeping movements with his arms, Cosmo had her teeth bared into a growl and was crouched low against the ground.

It was awesome!

And also kind of terrifying. Funny how often those two things went hand in hand.

Seeing he would have little chance in the battle and was likely to become a projectile if he got too close, Peter instead rushed towards what remained of the bar this had all started in, the no-longer pot-bound Groot holding onto his shoulder.

Quill burst inside just in time to see Gamora swing Proxima into Drax's waiting fist. Thanos' most gothic daughter hit the ground like a limp noodle.

Gamora was the first to notice him. And she also immediately noticed that he hadn't come with the ship. "Where's the Milano?"

"The windshield got smashed open and all of Rocket's bombs went off so I didn't want to risk flying it."

"Why did you bring Groot?" she demanded, the lack of a getaway vehicle no longer her chief concern.

"Because I didn't want to leave him by himself!"

"So you brought him into the middle of a warzone!?"

The entire front wall of the bar was promptly torn off it's foundation and twisted into a giant fist. Cosmo countered by catching it in a roof-turned-sheet-of-paper.

Drax did what he did best in all situations (especially life or death ones) and stated the obvious. "We have to take down the telepath!"

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Gamora demanded. "If we had the element of surprise we'd stand a chance, but if we try to strategise now he'll read our thoughts and know what we're planning and if we rush in without a plan-"

"I have an idea!" Quill tore Groot off his shoulder and handed the sapling to Gamora. "I'll distract him."

"Peter! A dance-off won't- PETER!"

Peter ignored her and rushed out of the bar, frantically waving his arms around like some kind of mutant bird trying to fly. "Hey! Hey you guys! Time out! Time out!"

With a wave of his hand, Ebony sent a dozen razor-sharp needles hurtling towards him. Cosmo only just managed to grind them to a halt an inch from the Terran's face.

"Comrade Star-Lord! What are you doing!?"

"Oh my gosh you got my outlaw name right the first time!"

"You think very much about it..."

Remembering that this was not the time or place for that conversation, Quill turned his full attention to the all-grown-up Child Of Thanos. "I just wanted to say there's this big, big misunderstanding going on."

"I know you're not Gamora's boyfriend," Maw snapped. "We were being condescending earlier. Traitor though she may be, Gamora can do better than the likes of you."

"I wasn't talking about that!" Quill whined. "And for the record we have-"

"We do not have an unspoken thing!" Gamora called out from wherever she had gone.

"We have an unspoken thing!" Peter went on earnestly. "But that's not what I- I didn't- we're working it out, okay? But no what I meant was, Gamora never betrayed her dad!"

"Yes she did!" came Drax's voice.

"She betrayed Ronan!" Quill insisted.

Ebony and Cosmo shared a look, shrugged, and the needles fell to the ground.

"She was meant to bring the orb to-"

"We gave it to Nova to earn their trust!" Peter insisted. "It's genius! If they ever find any more of those infinite infinity thingamawhatsists we'll be the first ones to know! And then, when we have them," Quill smiled, gestured at Maw and winked conspiratorially. "Well, you know what happens."

"Do you?"

The Legendary Star-Lord blinked stupidly. "Do I what?"

"Know what happens."

"Noooooo, but- but that's a good thing!" Peter gestured at himself. "Dude! Ask anyone, I am a dumbass! If Gamora told me about it I'd probably find a way to screw it up!"

"I don't believe you."

"I mean, I've been told I look like a smart guy but-"

"You are lying," Maw decided. "Trying to buy time for some foolish plan my sister has conjured up." The needles were once more raised off the ground, vibrating from the force of rival telekinetic holds.

"Waitwaitwait! You're a telepath, right?" Peter tapped the side of his head. "Read my mind and you'll see I'm telling the truth." Quill closed his eyes and frantically gestured for Maw to come closer. "Go on, look at what's inside."

Maw hesitated, but must have figured there was nothing the Terran could do to harm him and did as he was bid.

That was his biggest mistake.

What Ebony Maw saw there could only be described as unfathomable horror. A fraction of a second later, he fell to knees, shrieking in pain and clutching at eyes that seemed to be bleeding. The shopping cart Cosmo slammed into the side of his head must have come as a relief.

"Another decisive victory for the forces of justice!" the labrador cheered, before immediately falling over from exhaustion.

"I am Groot!" said Groot, as Drax and Gamora emerged from where they'd been sneaking up on Maw.

Quill raised a hand. "For the record, Drax-"

"There is no need to clarify. I knew you were lying." He nodded at Gamora. "The leaf woman is the most morally conscientious being among us."

"Not a high bar," Gamora rolled her eyes, lips nevertheless twitching into a smile.

"She also lacks the skills in deception necessary for what you proposed to be true."

The zehoberei chose to ignore that, and gave the prone form of Ebony Maw an obligatory kick in the ribs. "What did you do to him?"

Quill shrugged. "Let's just say I've been with waaaaaaaay too many freaky-looking chicks."

Gamora shook her head in disbelief. "That is repulsive, Peter."


Once more surrounded by the familiar, inky void of space, Rocket found himself breathing a humongous sigh of relief. He was still breathing. Still in one piece. He had talked his way out of certain death. He had escaped his twenty-fourth prison…

And then he groaned and slammed his face into the control panel because he wasn't out yet and if anything, was more trapped than ever.

"FLARK THIS! FLARK ME! FLARK EVERYTHING!" He glared at his reflection in the windshield. "You really screwed up this time."

Rocket wasn't stupid enough to think that Sire would let him live, even in the unlikely event he did acquire all the stones. Gods did not bargain with ants even if they pretended to…

Nevermind that getting all the stones was nothing short of frickin' impossible. He knew the location of exactly one and it was currently in the most highly secure location in the entire Nova Empire. Assuming he, Teefs, Floor, Lylla and The Jackass (hardly the ideal crew for a backwater bank job- sure they'd proven themselves formidable but they had also proven themselves cowardly, overexciteable, inexperienced and all of the above respectively) managed to get it, they'd still have five left and no idea where to start.

Assuming they got that far, they'd also be the most wanted batch of lab rats in the galaxy…

And he'd also have to betray his current crew just to get to that point, which was not a prospect Rocket looked forward to. Drax and Gamora were both formidable opponents who could squish him like a bug if it ever came to it and Quill was no slouch either. They'd be a massive pain in the ass if they got involved and they almost certainly would. Worse than all that, they were his friends. Or well, the closest thing he had to friends now that Groot was gone and the rest of Batch 89 thought he was some kind of idiot.

And he'd have to spit in the face of their stupid friendship, and run off with an orb they had agreed to give to Nova in exchange for clean records… and he couldn't even tell them why.

While the Guardians undoubtedly cared about him, there was always a chance they'd decide Rocket and a bunch of freaks were not worth risking universal peace for. There was the equally likely possibility that they'd try something stupid and heroic and get caught in the crossfire and die horribly. Frankly, Rocket wasn't sure which of those frightened him more.

Groot would have understood. It was far too much of a burden for Rocket to unload on the sapling he'd planted (and Rocket had already decided that he'd do everything in his power to keep the new Groot away from all of this), but the old Groot would have known what to do.

"I wish you were here, bud." Rocket sighed. "You always were the smart one."


The defeated form of Proxima was unceremoniously dumped besides Ebony Maw. Both were tightly bound with telekinetically twisted scraps of metal and Gamora had had the foresight to stick an automatic taser to the back of Maw's head so that if he so much as thought of using his telekinesis he'd fry his own brain.

"You know, Cosmo we're not exactly loaded with cash but if you want to charge us for this-"

"Nyet, it's fine. I am happy to help."

"Alright." Quill gestured at their defeated opponents. "So what should we do with them?"

"I am Groot," suggested Groot from his current perch on Gamora's shoulder.

"I say we kill them," Drax strode over and gave the stirring Midnight a kick to the head. "They are Thanos' ilk. Each one more vile and murderous than the last. Between them they have ended countless lives." He shrugged. "However, the quarrel I have with them is not a personal one, thus the decision lies with Gamora."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Peter and Cosmo both turned towards the assassin in search of an answer.

She did not express emotion in the same over-the-top way Quill, Rocket or even Drax did, but Peter could tell that she was undecided. And having some idea of what it was like to have the closest thing you had to a family try and kill you (thanks Yondu!), the former Ravager found himself clearing his throat.

"It seems a little dishonourable to kill them now that we've already kicked their asses, don't you think?"

With a rush of gratitude, Gamora gave him the ghost of a smile. "Nova prefers to take bounties alive," she nodded. "If nothing else we can at least make this trip a profitable one."

Drax grunted in understanding, and Quill figured it went unspoken that Gamora herself preferred to take them in alive.

"Alright, let me just get Dey on," Peter pulled Rocket's infoglass out of his satchel and keyed in their handler's comm code. "What time is it on Xandar?"

"Twelve o'clock," supplied Drax.

Five minutes later, they were rewarded with the sight of a very groggy Dennarian Dey, clad in a nightgown with deep ravens under his eyes.

"Twelve o'clock as in midnight?" Gamora asked, voice perfectly deadpan.

"Yes," replied Drax.

The Legendary Star-Lord put on his most winning smile. "Heeeey, Dey."

"Quill," returned Dey, trying and failing to rub sleep from his eyes. "To what do I owe the-" he paused to yawn. "The pleasure?"

"Okay first off real sorry for waking you- timezones, amiright? Secondly, would the Nova Corps be interested in cashing in on a few bounties for highly-wanted genocidal maniacs?"

Dey raised an eyebrow. "Who're you considering?"

"Er-" Quill turned to Gamora who recited the needlessly complicated names with practiced ease.

"Corvus Glaive, Proxima Midnight, Ebony Maw."

"The Black Order!?" Dey tugged at the front of his nightgown and swallowed audibly. He was definitely wide awake now. "Th-that's a little bit above your paygrade don't you think? I'm not sure I would recommend doing-"

"We've already defeated them," Drax explained. He gave a hearty guffaw at Dey's look of confusion. "And before you ask, no! We did not need to tear out their spines to do so!"

The Nova Corpsman turned Dennarian blinked. "You… beat them?"

Quill shrugged. "Yeah. Er- I can confirm that two of them are still alive." He turned to Gamora. "I should probably have mentioned this earlier but one of them er- flew into Rocket's room earlier and… let's just say I'm reeeeeeeally glad we got him to install those blast doors."

"W-we'd be more than happy to take them in," Dey replied, frantically typing into his screen. "Where are you guys now?"

"Corix 85," chorused the Guardians.

"You took them out in their own turf!?" Dey exclaimed, sounding equal parts astounded and delighted. Then his face fell. "That's… outside Nova jurisdiction. You'd have to bring them to the nearest outpost-"

"Tharvis K-8." Gamora supplied.

Dey nodded. "Get them there and we'll handle the rest. I'm not sure what their bounties look like off the top of my head, but these are some of the most wanted beings in the Galaxy we're talking about. How'd you get the big guy?"

Quill blinked. "The… big guy?"

Drax echoed Peter's confusion. "They all seemed to be of similar heights to me."

"SISTER!"

As one the Guardians looked up and found themselves facing the big guy. Cull Obsidian was easily the biggest sentient alien Quill had ever seen, and was currently glaring at them from the other end of the obliteration that had once been Corix' main street.

"Dey lemme call you back!" Peter tapped out of the call as besides him, Gamora drew her blade with a groan and Drax did the same with a bark of delighted laughter.

"I am Groot!"

"Cosmo, we could er- really use the backup on this one too, I think."

"Give me… five minutes…" the labrador groaned. "I feel like I've had eight bottles of vodka."

Cull tore forwards with a roar- and was instantly taken out by the one-man ship that slammed into the side of his head. The unfamiliar craft hit the ground spinning, and came to an abrupt halt a short distance away from where the dumbfounded Guardians stood, showering them in dust.

Peter really shouldn't have been surprised when Rocket clambered out, dragging an overly-large satchel behind him and wearing cherry pink clothes several sizes too big for him. But he was. Because how was he supposed to have seen any of that coming?

The raccoon gave the surrounding mayhem a quick once-over and failed spectacularly at acting surprised. "Woah! You guys really went to town here, huh?" He noticed the looks they were all giving him and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I got the thing!" he smiled almost pleadingly, and thrust Groot's new pot out like a lifeline.


Footnote: Longest chapter yet and fair warning, I fear they will only get longer from here x3 Next week an especially fun chapter I've been looking forwards to for a while because the Guardians are once again all in the same 'room' together!