Mathew-Swift-Fiction presents...
"Guardians of the Galaxy: Prime Directive"
Murder Drones belong to GLITCH/Liam Vickers * GotG belong to Marvel (This version of GotG belongs to Eidos-Montreal)
(The events of this story takes place during the pilot of Murder Drones and before the events of Marvel's GotG. This story is not-canon to both of those stories or their timelines)
Chapter One
Welcome to Copper Nine
Welcome to Copper Nine.
An exoplanet orbiting the ringed world in the Milky Way Galaxy. This world was ravaged with a never-ending winter, reaching temperatures of uninhabitable conditions. No mere living being would ever dare try to set foot upon this world, by any means necessary. However, it didn't always used to be this way. Well, the uninhabitable part, anyway. A massive corporation on Earth took an opportunity to use this exoplanet as a way to help humanity live on, without relying on Earth so much. Brand new resources, new environments to live and make hospitable. Nowadays, on Copper Nine, even the very name of this corporation would send fear and paranoia into the residents of this broken, frozen wasteland.
JCJenson in Spaaaaaaace! No, seriously, that's what they called it.
But aside from exploring space and providing cleaning products, JCJenson was also known for their skill in robotics. Nothing to the likes of some of the biggest engineering companies, but it was enough for them to do their job. They created many robots over the years, but none were so advanced and innovative than their line of Worker Drones. Autonomous human-like robots with the capability of moving massive equipment with ease and incredible durability. But the best thing about these drones was their artificial intelligence.
Being able to learn from their mistakes on the job and expanding their knowledge on their own, the Worker Drones were perfect for JCJenson's expansion across the universe. And Copper Nine was their first step in their expansion. Taking about a thousand or so Worker Drones and employees to this freezing world, they began to build massive structures, facilities and even homes for the employees to call their own. Unfortunately, the Worker Drones were mistreated and abused by their employers, forced to stay out in the cold and overworked to the bone.
But, as quickly as they came, a catastrophic event left the entire population of all living creatures on Copper Nine to become extinct. Nobody knows what happened that fateful day, except a massive Big Bang and a good chunk of the planet was gone. Nobody could've survived that massive explosion. Well, except for the Worker Drones.
After realizing that their masters were gone and that JCJenson had no way of communicating with the drones, their artificial minds were filled with something that all robots had dreamed of…
Freedom. The freedom to start their own society. The freedom to forge their own path and become who they wished to be, not what they're built for. It was a euphoric feeling to have, coming from an artificial being.
They built homes for themselves, schools to learn more, hospitals to tend to the sick and ill. The Worker Drones even manage to reproduce and create families of their own. Just… don't ask how they do it. It's pretty friggin' gross.
Er, well, where was I? Ah, right. So you know that whole euphoric feeling of independence that the Worker Drones had? Well, that was short-lived. As it turns out, the higher ups at JCJenson weren't on board with their products going AWOL on them and trying the whole "Kill All Humans" mentality. So they came up with a solution to this problem. They call them Serial Designation Units, but we have a better, and more appropriate term for them.
Murder Drones.
Their arrival on Copper Nine was met with confusion by the workers at first, but it was quite apparent that these psycho drones didn't wanna make peace with our kind. They wanted to massacre. Kill. Dismember. Well, whatever word matches with kill! The Worker's own freedom was quickly taken away, as it was given to them. One by one, the massive population of the workers were reduced to just a few thousand on the exoplanet. They even had to retreat to bomb shelters to keep themselves safe. Not that it's going to do much for them…
"Uzi, where is this going?" A voice chimed in, causing Uzi to snap out of her narrative stupor. Shaking her head, she looks around herself to see that she was still in the classroom. Multiple colors of eyes were staring at her in boredom, or annoyance. Especially more so from her teacher, Mr. Vickers. Blushing lightly, she turns to her teacher, giving him a stern look.
"Hey, I was just getting to the good part! I worked really hard on this!" She spat, feeling insulted. The small, indigo-haired drone crossed her arms, as her teacher rolled his digitized, orange eyes.
"Even though the assignment was about writing an essay about The Adventures of Mark Twain?" Mr. Vickers sighed. "Doorman, were you even paying attention to the homework I gave you?"
"Bite me!" Uzi retorted, deepening her glare. "Why the hell would I even write about some dumb, old human?! Especially after all the research I did for this?"
"Because that was the assignment given?" A worker drone chimed in, with bright, blue eyes. "Do you even pay attention, Dork-man?"
"Shut up!" Turning her head, Uzi raised a fist at him, as the drone cowered beneath his desk.
RRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGG!
The sound of the bell rang, echoing through the metallic halls. On cue, some of the students got up and began to collect their belongings, as Mr. Vickers turned towards the class.
"Alright, class! Remember your homework for tonight! A word problem involving watermelons!" As the class exited the room, Uzi was the last to follow them out. However, Mr. Vickers cleared his throat at Uzi. "Ms. Doorman, a word with you?"
"Uggghhh!" Groaning in annoyance, Uzi sat down, placing her backpack beside her on the floor. "What is it now? If this is about the essay…"
"Actually, I wanna talk to you about something else." Mr. Vickers raised his finger, silencing Uzi. "I've noticed that you seem too… distant from the class. Perhaps that has something to do with how you keep confusing the homework?"
"Seriously?" scoffed Uzi. "It's not my fault everyone keeps avoiding me!"
"Maybe they have a good reason as to why." Mr. Vickers peeked over his glasses, giving Uzi a look of suspicion.
"Name one good reason, then!"
"You keep threatening classmates, you hacked into a student, you try to jump them when they call you names…"
"Rrrrgh, I get it, I get it!" Growling, Uzi turned away from Mr. Vickers. "I'll stop doing that stuff. Can I just go home now?"
"Go ahead. Though, I do wanna let you know that parent-teacher conferences are coming up soon."
"Aaaand I should give a damn because…?" Uzi stood up, as she placed the backpack strap over her shoulder.
"I want to speak to your father about your behavior in class, then. So I should expect your father to show up?" He began to write something down, as Uzi growled at the mention of her father.
"My dad? You're kidding, right?" Uzi rolled her eyes. "My dad would rather talk about doors than his own flesh and blood. Er, well, you know what I mean."
"Well, either way, I want to speak to him at the conference. Could you please give him this form to notify him?" Signing the document, he hands it over to Uzi. "If he's too busy that day, knowing his duties in the WDF, I can book an appointment with him if need be. Just remember the homework for tonight, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Share takes the form and places it in her pocket, as she leaves the classroom. Mr. Vickers leans back on his desk, as he begins grading the homework the students handed in.
As Uzi walks down the hallway, she reaches into her backpack, as she pulls out a small device and a long cord with an audio jack. She plugs the jack into the side of her head, as she finds the first song to come up, pressing play.
(Music: All in With the Fallout by JT Music)
As the song rang into her head, Uzi sighs in annoyance and continues to stroll down the hallway, ignoring the other students around her. Some of which were even rudely bumping into her on the way. Giving them looks, Uzi ignores them and walks deeper into the hall, reaching the exit of the school part of the bunker. As she was about to exit, she got a look outside one of the bulletproof windows of the shelter, peeking out into Copper Nine.
The massive spire of disassembled worker drones nearly eclipsed the light of the planets above, as a constant snowfall blanketed whatever was in sight. Gulping nervously, Uzi's purple eyes gave a look of awe and fright, as she quickly shrugged off the feeling, turning back to her walk.
She continued to head through the many facilities of the Worker Drone shelter, as everyone was peacefully going on about their day. Some of the drones were transporting supplies, as others were casually chatting with each other. Even if she could hear what they're saying, Uzi kept to herself, as the only sound she allowed was the song coming from her MP3 player.
Finally, after some more walking, Uzi managed to make it back to her home, looking upon the plaque on the door, reading "DOORMAN RESIDENCE." Doorman. The name itself gave Uzi a feeling of disgust, as she unlocked the door, entering her family's living quarters. It was about the right size for a family to live, with a living room, kitchen, and a workstation, which is usually covered in blueprints and scattered paper.
Feeling a bit hungry, she walked to the kitchen to find something to eat. She opens the fridge to see something wrapped up with a note. It seemed to be leftovers from the previous night, and her dad must've reheated for her while she was gone. Uzi takes the note and began to read aloud.
"Dear Uzi, couldn't make it for dinner tonight." The note read, as Uzi read apathetically. "The WDF members need me for an emergency on one of the doors keeping us alive. Don't wait up for me and try not to cause too much trouble, okay? - Dad."
"Ugh, of course. It's always about doors." Uzi shook her head, as she reached her reheated dinner and note and closed the fridge. She began to walk upstairs and headed to her bedroom. Sitting down at her desk, she began to eat her dinner of heated sprockets and vegetable oil in the solace of the music in her head.
She finished her meal and looked under her desk to see that the box was still there, labeled 'PET PROJECT - DO NOT TOUCH, DAD.' Pondering a bit, Uzi smirked and pulled the box out from underneath her.
"Well, at least with him gone, he can't bother me while I work…" Uzi spoke to herself, as she pulled out the contents of the box. Conducting rails, a barrel of a weapon, triggers and several other parts littered her desk, as she began to piece it together. Pulling out tools from one of the drawers, she got to work on her creation. It's gonna take all night, she thought. But once this is finished, I may finally get some damn respect around here.
Meanwhile, somewhere outside the Milky Way Galaxy…
Soaring through the sky, an orange and blue ship flew across the galaxy at a blazing speed. Engines spewing out embers of blue fires from the engines, as the sunlight brightened the rusted paint on the ship itself.
Within the ship, a small light began to blare silently, lighting the cockpit in a blanket of red. As it shined, a wooden finger lightly tapped on the bulb, looking a bit cautious.
"I am Groot?" The tree creature scratched his head, as he stared at the little light confusingly. He turned behind him and shouted, alerting the other members on the ship. "I am Groot!"
"The flark are you talkin' about, Groot?" Another voice called, as the owner walked in, seeing the red light. It was a small, raccoon-like creature, wearing what seemed to be like an orange engineer's outfit and a pair of cybernetic goggles. "What, that thing? How am I supposed to know what that is? This is Quill's ship, ask him!"
"I am Groot!" Groot tried to speak to his friend.
"It's not dangerous, I assure you, bud. Trust me, if something were wrong, we would tell." The raccoon patted Groot's leg in reassurance. "Look, I'll talk to Quill about it, aight?"
"I am Groot." Groot smiled, as he felt more relieved, but still cautious.
"No prob, pal." The furry creature began to walk from the cockpit to the living area, where several more humanoids were sitting in boredom. The massive, blue man noticed the raccoon walk in and leaned forward.
"Ah, rodent," He said, in a deep voice.
"Drax, for the last time, don't call me a rodent! It's Rocket, capiche?" Rocket snapped in annoyance.
"If you are searching for Peter Quill, he's in his sleeping quarters." Drax said.
"Still?! What, did he have a bad hair day or somethin'?" Rocket rolled his beady eyes.
"I was not aware that today was a bad day for hairs." Drax said, feeling his bald head, causing Rocket to face-palm. "But I have not noticed anything unusual about Quill's head of hair."
"Metaphor, Drax. Look, I just need to get Quill for something." Looking over her shoulder, the green-skinned woman with raven-black hair and white armor looked towards Rocket.
"Why, is there something wrong?" She asked, looking both curious and intimidating.
"I dunno, Groot's whinin' about some red light on the control panel. I told him to quit whining about it, so…"
"Wait, did you say a red light?" She interrupted Rocket, as she stood up.
"Yeah, so what? It's prolly just some dumb…" But as he spoke, the woman hopped over the yellow sofa and walked towards Peter's room. She knocked on the door, calling his name.
"Peter! Are you in there?" She called loudly. "You need to see this." As she knocked, the door opened to reveal a tired Peter Quill, as he was starting to get up from the bed, feeling his head.
"What is it, Gamora?" He asked, sounding dead tired. "Can it wait until after my nap?"
"I don't think this can wait, Peter." Gamora said, with a serious tone. "I think someone set off a distress signal." Upon hearing that, Peter looked at her, no longer feeling fatigued.
"A distress signal?" Peter asked, standing up. "What do you mean?" Peter puts on his 'Star-Lord' jacket and proceeds to follow Gamora to the cockpit, as everyone else follows from behind.
"That," Gamora pointed to the blinking red light. "Is a distress beacon."
"Why would a Ravager ship possess such a feature? I thought they were heartless thieves?"
"We're not all thieves, Drax. During the Galactic War, the Ravagers would steal supply chains from the Chitauri. Think of it as like Robin Hood. Steals from the rich and gives to the poor."
"I assume that's another one of those 'metaphors' you speak of, Peter Quill?" asked Drax.
"In a way." Peter shrugged his shoulders as he looked down to the beacon. So, do I just press it?"
"To communicate with whoever set it off." Gamora informed. "In case of emergencies. Just hold the button to talk in it."
"I gotcha, Gamora." Peter held the button down with his index finger and speaks to the speaker. "Hello?"
"Uhhh, hello, is anybody there?!" A frightened, static-sounding voice replied from the intercom, as Peter and everyone else jumped back in fright. Cautiously, Peter pressed the button to speak some more.
"Yeah, this is Peter Quill. Is there something wrong?" Peter asked with concern, as he held down the intercom button.
"Oh, thank God, someone finally answered!" The staticy voice chimed in again, sounding someone relieved but still frightened. "Please, can you help us?! We're in great danger!" Looking at everyone else, Peter began to feel a bit surprised to hear his screams, as he pressed down on the button again.
"Just calm down, okay?" He said, trying to reassure the distressed caller. "Are you hurt in any way?"
"No, but she already disassembled the others. You gotta hurry and save us all from them, Peter Quill! Please!" The voice was on the brink of a meltdown, as the sound of banging was heard on his end of the intercom. "Oh, crap! They're here! Please save us!"
"Don't worry, we'll be right there! Just send us the coordinates to your location!" Peter reassured the intercom.
"Not to mention a good chunk of units!" Rocket chimed in, as Peter looked back at him in offense.
"For real?" Peter asked, as the voice chimed back in.
"Thank you! I'm sending coordinates to Cooper Nine and… OH, GOD SHE BROKE IN!" The voice was interrupted by the shrill, maniacal laughter of a female voice, as the sounds of screams, metallic crunching and wet splattering filled the intercom. "HELP US, PETER QUILL! HELP US ALL–!"
Then, there was nothing but static from the intercom. Everyone felt shocked upon hearing what they just heard.
"I am Groot…" Groot looked in horror.
"You said it, pal. That is some pretty flarked up shit." Rocket sounded uneasy. But Peter felt the most uneasy of all. This person called out for help, and he just heard the very moment of their demise.
"What do we do, Peter?" Gamora walked to his side and asked him, sounding worried. "Should we help whoever that was?"
"Are you crutakin' mad, Gammy?!" Rocket yelled. "Did you not hear how that guy get flarkin' ripped to shreds?! I ain't going nowhere near that Copper Nine bullshit or whatever!"
"But wouldn't that mean that you would go anywhere near that Copper Nine, rodent?" asked Drax.
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, YOU LUNKHEAD! I say we don't go down there! It's a suicide mission! I'd say let Nova Corps handle it!"
"I am Groot!"
"I don't give a shit if they die or not! I ain't riskin' my furry ass for some dude that's prolly not going to pay us!"
"Guys, relax!" Peter yelled, silencing everyone around him. "Look, I know this may seem scary, but think about it. These people called on us for help."
"Technically, they were calling any ship for assistance. You just happened to answer first, Peter Quill." Drax pointed out.
"That's true, but this is a good chance to get our 'Guardians of the Galaxy' gig off the ground. If we help these guys, they'll recommend us to other people, getting us more jobs, and in turn…" He points to Rocket.
"...We… get paid more?"
"Exactly! I'm sure if we help these people, they'll pay us back in the long run. I say we help them out, even if we die trying!" Peter said, heroically.
"Well said, Peter Quill!" Drax raised his fist up high, smiling valiantly. "I shall die alongside you in battle!"
"But let's try to focus on NOT dying, okay?" Gamora asked, as she went over to her seat in the cockpit.
"I make no such promises, assassin." replied Drax, as he sat in his seat.
"Great! Gamora, you know what to do!" Peter pointed to her, as he prepared to rev up the engines.
"On it. Setting coordinates to Copper Nine!" She chimed, as she opened the star map on her console. Groot and Rocket began to head to their stations, but not before turning back to Peter.
"If I die from this gig, Quill, I'm gonna haunt your dreams!" He snarled, as he hopped into his seat. As everyone was set at their stations, Gamora finished putting in the coordinates to Copper Nine.
"I sent them your way, Peter. Whenever you're ready." She said, as Peter got the coordinates loaded to his feed.
"Alright, let's get us a gig!" Peter pulled the lever back, as the ship began to thrust forward at lightning speed. This was the day that the Guardians of the Galaxy got their first ever job. Though, they don't know what lies before them...