GotG belongs to Marvel.

Title is from "Trouble Hunters" by Astronautalis

.

Chapter 20: Trouble Hunters

Peter spent most of the ride fiddling with his Walkman, skipping through the tracks and stealing glances at his teammates.

They were spread out much like they had been on the trip down to Ego's planet, with the exceptions of Nebula and Mantis.

This time, the empath was seated neatly between Drax and Groot. She'd been trying valiantly to draw Drax into a conversation, but had only managed to drag a few gruff sentences from him before giving up. Attempts to win Groot into a conversation had just earned her a soft smile and a flower which was now tucked behind one of her ears. Not even the colossus was immune to the tension in the air, apparently, though the occasional glance sent Rocket's way while the Raccoon very deliberately ignored them all may have had something to do with his silence.

Nebula had replaced Mantis in the flight deck, for lack of a better term for the separated room on the strange vessel. She wasn't even bothering to feign interest in the mechanics as she and the ancient Celestial each steadfastedly pretended the other didn't exist. Apparently even Ego's resentful company was preferable to riding in the same room as her sister after Gamora had made her own ill fated attempt at a conversation when they'd first boarded. It hadn't ended as peacefully as Mantis's attempts with the others. The two hadn't come to blows this time at least, though Gamora looked like she would have preferred another fight to this outright avoidance.

As an added bonus, which Peter was certain she had already added into her calculations, the younger sister was momentarily safe from his pestering as well. Nothing could drag him into a small room with the egolomaniac that called himself his father right now. Even Peter's nosiness had its limits.

The click and hiss of a pressurized chamber broke the spell of tense silence. Peter was quick to spring to his feet and bounced at the doorway with nervous energy as his team gathered to board the NOVA vessel.

It was the same ship Saal had used to spirit the Guardians away after the disastrous trial, and the boarding door spilled them straight into the large bay where Peter had removed Rocket's collar just a handful of cycle's ago. It seemed to Peter that Rocket was having the same thought, guessing mostly by the way he entered quietly at the back of the group. His eyes were narrowed and shrewdly took in every detail of the small dock like he thought someone would swoop in at any second to try to reattach it.

"Welcome back Peter. Guardians." Dey was waiting for them, standing at attention across the small space. His hands were held behind his back and a couple of corpsmen Peter didn't immediately recognize flanked him.

The unfamiliar soldiers each had a weapon strapped to their hip, but they didn't look especially hostile towards their controversial guests. If anything, they seemed a bit bored or maybe even tired. Peter had never done any exact calculations, but since the sun had been just setting on Ego's planet when they left, and the Nova Corps was operating on the standard time which ran about a quarter cycle ahead of Ego's planet, he was pretty sure it was somewhere around 3 or 4 am for the Starburst's cycle, making this either a very late night or a very early morning for the corps.

"Hey there, Dey." Peter gave a wave and one of his most winning smiles. "Good to see you in person again."

Dey's lips tugged into a guarded smile that really just made him look more tired.

"There's a meeting room set up where we can consult with your team." His eyes slid to where Rocket was standing at the edge of the group. "Your friend Cosmo is here. And all of the crew is armed. I expect you to remember that some of you are still considered prisoners."

Peter lifted his hands up in mock surrender. "We're just here to strategize," he promised, then glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the group. "Right guys?"

There was a weak chorus of agreement. In the back of the group, Rocket curled his lips up to sneer at the floor.

"Rocket?" he prodded.

The Raccoon lifted his eyes to regard Peter sharply. After the briefest beat, he gave a shrug and sniffed out, "Yeah, 'course. Here to help. Since my expertise is clearly needed, and yous all asked so nicely n' all."

His accent was thicker than ever before, nearly a drawl, and Peter wondered if it was from nerves.

"See? All good! Shall we?" He gestured for Dey to lead the way to the meeting room.

After sharing a brief look with his two escorts, Dey stepped away from the group and towards one of the stairs leading to a deck on an upper level, waving for the Guardians to follow. "This way."

As Dey led them up a thick silver staircase to the upper level, Peter turned back to check on his team. Most of the Guardians were right behind him, but Mantis was still hovering anxiously at Ego's side.

"Mantis?" Peter slowed to a stop half-way up the staircase to address her. "Are you coming?"

Her eyes flickered to Ego.

"You're one of us now, you don't need to wait with him. Besides," Peter narrowed his eyes at his father, "he should be leaving soon. Right?"

Ego narrowed his eyes back at Peter in a mirror of his expression. He made no move to go, standing impassively with his hands held loosely behind his back, but he inclined his head at Mantis and the empath finally broke away from him to join Guardians up the stairs. She kept a careful distance between herself and Rocket who was at the back of the group as they continued up to the second floor.

Dey led them across the deck and down a compact hallway that appeared to wrap around the side of the ship. He turned into one of the doorways and brought them to a brightly lit and sizable room with one tall broad table in the center which appeared to be designed to display holograms. Peter would guess this was a dedicated strategizing room, and wondered what the ship's original role was, before Xandar fell.

A handful of corpsmen stood around the table. Judging from the uniforms and equipment, they were all of higher rank, and he recognized a couple faces from the impromptu meeting where Peter had first agreed to be sent down to Ego's planet. The pale blond waves of the officer that Peter was pretty sure was the previous Prime Irani's nephew were hard to miss.

At the head of the table, across from the door, stood Marlowe, who was busy doing something with the controls on the table. She glanced up as the Guardians spilled into the room and greeted them with a nod before returning her attention to whatever she was in the middle of.

"Well, there's the suicidal little idiot now."

Peter froze in his tracks. "Youndu?!" He had not been expecting to see the Ravager captain, and a cold nervous sweat threatened to break out at the sight of the man standing to one side of the table. Kraglin was there, too, standing at Yondu's side. His gangly form was nearly eclipsed by the larger man. "What are you doing here?"

The captain gave a humorless laugh. "I couldn't very well pass up the opp'rtunity to see what hairbrained scheme you'd cooked up this time. If I'd known you were this bound and determined t'kill yourself, I'd have just let the d'asted crew eat you and saved myself and the rest of the universe all this trouble."

Several of the Nova Corpsmen gave Yondu a strange look, including Marlowe, who didn't even pause in her typing while she shot the Ravager a disgusted frown through pursed lips.

Brother Peter! Cosmo gave a soft bark to draw Peter's attention to where the dog sat at the table across from the Ravagers. A crate had been brought out so he could easily look over the tall table top. Is good to see in the flesh again. Time away has done Guardians well. Cosmo is glad to see wounds are healing.

"Yeah!" Peter brought his unbandaged hands up for Cosmo to see as he stepped around the room to join the cosmonaut at his side of the table, more than happy for the excuse to avoid the Ravager captain who was probably going to skin him alive after the meeting was over.

The scars on his right palm shone almost white under the artificial lights above. The red puffiness to their edges was beginning to recede. There was a new tint of red and some cracked skin across his knuckles from where Nebula had used her staff to knock his blaster's aim down during their duel that afternoon. He'd been in the middle of sending out a burst of flame, and the backflow when the fire had met the marble court instead of open space had singed his hands, but it wasn't severe enough to need anything more than time to heal. Fortunately his legs had been protected by the treated leather of his boots and pants. The upcoming mission would be a lot less pleasant on crispy toes.

"No casts, braces, or wraps! Not even a band aide. It feels nice to have my hands back. Drax's staples are gone, too."

Marlowe snapped her head up at that to shoot Drax a reproachful look that made Peter wonder if she'd had any younger siblings. "Those weren't due to come out until three cycles from today. We went over this when you had them put in."

"They were itching," Drax grunted, taking an open spot across from the prime's assistant, with his back to the door they had just entered, while the remaining Guardians gathered loosely around the table as well.

She muttered something about wasting resources on idiots, but looked back down to tap something else into the controls. A moment later the table's surface lit up with a pale glow and she straightened to address the entire room.

"Since everyone is here now, let's begin by reviewing the information we have, so we can all start on the same page."

"Wait, wasn't Saal joining us?" Peter couldn't help but ask. He was pretty sure the man had said he'd be here. Or at least implied it.

"The Prime," Marlowe stressed the title, "had some more pressing duties on the Starburst which he couldn't get away from. I will be leading this meeting in his stead."

"Ah. Okay. Sounds good to me."

Marlowe reached forward to slide one finger against a panel on her side of the table and a holographic map appeared of an unfamiliar solar system. "This is the planet Villam. It's the second planet of the solar system called Agellum, which belongs to the Viritis galaxy. The entire galaxy is currently under the control of Thanos. However, since the rest of galaxy is relatively sparsely populated, and there's nothing of particular strategic use in the surrounding systems, most of it should be left empty and unattended. All reports Cosmo could receive from his population on Knowhere appear to support this theory, but we can't send in any scouts to confirm it without risking alerting Thanos to our interest in the area."

She tapped a small planet and the holograph zoomed in to display it in clearer detail. "Villam has always been well-known for its resource rich land, and the population there is very skilled at farming and managing that land. It is the most likely scenario that the prisoners held there are being used to farm the planet and provide for Thanos's growing army."

"My people are indeed very skilled farmers." Drax growled out, scowling at the display from under heavy brows. His arms were crossed tightly, and his muscles held so tense that Peter was almost worried the still-forming scar across his chest might start to split in the deeper parts. "But I refuse to believe they would ever aide that cowardly tyrant."

Nebula gave a small huff. "The Titan is very skilled at getting what he wants," she muttered, almost kindly, as far as Nebula's tones went.

Drax's frown deepened, but he didn't contest her words.

Marlowe slid her hand across the controls and the image before them changed again. Now it displayed several different sections of universe. Each one had jump points lit up. "Our best chance at getting in to gather information without being detected would be to piggyback off of the existing supply runs."

As Peter studied the display and tried to make sense of the path, a sudden shriek tore his attention to where Mantis had been standing past Nebula to his right.

"Mantis?" he asked, leaning back to peer around the assassin.

Mantis was standing ramrod straight with Rocket on her shoulder. The raccoon was leaning his elbow casually on the top of her head as he stared shrewdly at the jump route. The nails of his bare feet were forming divots where they dug into the fabric on her shoulder and, Peter could only hope, not sinking down into her flesh underneath. The clothing Ego had given her wasn't exactly designed for combat, and the fabrics weren't all that thick.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked Mantis.

"I am fine!" Mantis squeaked out, but held her shoulders tight like she thought Rocket might slip off if they weren't held perfectly flat. "I was just... surprised. That is all."

From her spot across the table from Mantis, Gamora was staring at Rocket like she wanted to say something. She'd been working with him in this universe, so she must know just as well as Peter how sharp his claws were.

Peter pressed his lips into a frown. "Rocket, there are people with thicker jackets if-"

"I'm good here." Rocket tilted his head just enough to regard Peter from the corner of his eyes as he patted his paw on the top of Mantis's head. He seemed to be enjoying the response his choice of perch had created, if the twitch at the corner of his lips was any indication.

Peter furrowed his brows, but when he glanced down to make eye contact with Mantis again, instead of asking for help, she mouthed: 'Can I pet him?'

Alarmed, Peter immediately mouthed back 'NO' while from across the table he heard Gamora whisper out a hushed command of "DON'T."

From his spot at the side of the table nearest the door, Drax leaned forward to frantically nod at Mantis. "Do it." He was also whispering, but it was clear he was struggling not to shout the words in his excitement as he encouraged Mantis to try to pet Rocket.

Over the maniac's shoulder, Groot gave her a small negative shake of his head.

Mantis glanced between her teammates, -Peter mouthed another frantic 'NO' at her as her eyes passed over him-, then she chewed the corner of her lip and a hand nervously raised from her side. Peter's heartbeat skyrocketed and he was about to dive for her when Nebula, who had been trying to ignore the exchange up until now, reached over and slapped Mantis's hand back down hard enough to make the empath wince.

"Spoilsport," Peter heard Drax grumble.

From Peter's left, there was the sound of Marlowe clearing her throat and tapping a finger against the table, bringing the room's attention back to herself. "If we can move along; From what we've been able to gather, existing prisoners of war have been being shipped in small groups from other planets onto the planet Villam using this path for some time now. The most likely reasons for this relocation of prisoners are either bolstering the available workers to increase the planet's output for his army, or replacing a substantial loss of the population there."

Both Gamora and Drax tensed at the implication of Marlowe's last sentence. Gamora's eyes widened, her shoulders stiff as she stared at the lit up jump points on the display as though they could tell her if her parents were behind them. Drax, in contrast, seemed to almost withdraw. The scar on his shoulder shivered as his muscles tensed so hard Peter could swear he could hear the maniac's joints creak. His head tilted down and his eyebrows lowered so he looked nearly possessed as he glowered at something light-years beyond the table.

Marlowe had paused to gauge the table's reaction, her attention lingered on Drax and Gamora for a moment before she continued. Her curt and business-like tone softened as she continued. "With the context of Thanos' latest moves, we all believe the former option is much more likely."

"Finding the next ship wasn't that difficult. They seem to run a pretty regular and predictable schedule, but intercepting a ship without being seen or causing a noticeable delay will be tricky. The ship's path is entirely within space controlled by Thanos, so our more current knowledge of the areas are... limited. We were hoping your team might have some insight as to which parts of this route may be more vulnerable." She turned to look at Gamora who was leaning in closer to the display. "Gamora, you said you may have visited this place before. Is there anything you can recall about the trip there? Notable points along the jump paths, or security on the way in?"

Gamora's lips pressed together but she slowly shook her head no.

"Any recent work you may have done in the area, then?" Marlowe asked as tactfully as she could, though the tension in her jaw gave her discomfort away.

From his right, Nebula gave a huff. "Gamora didn't do much prison duty," she stated dryly. "I guess it's not such a mystery why Thanos never assigned her that work, anymore. Here." She leaned forward to point at a section of the hologram labled '[JP-00067 – JP-00124, Nerite System]'. "This system is fairly barren. The stretch between points is long, with no nearby outposts and the likelihood of other traffic is low."

"No, no, no!" Rocket pushed off Mantis's shoulder and hopped down onto the table. The projection lights fizzled under his feet where his body disturbed their sensors. "Nerite's no good. When's the last time you went through there? Ronan put some dumb patrol out there after pirates took a buncha ships. Guess he was afraid Thanos was gonna take the losses outta his hide."

"How do you know what Ronan's patrols are doing?" Nebula challenged, clearly not happy to be contradicted.

"'Cause Korath had t' set the schedule for the new patrol, and that idiot spends more time complainin' about his work than actually doin' anything. He was so insufferable afterwards I was ready to take a swim out the airlock for some flarkin' silence."

Nebula's glare broke with a snort, in apparent agreement with Rocket's assessment of Korath's character.

"Yeah well," Rocket continued, scratching at his nose, though the gesture didn't quite hide the wicked sort of smile creeping onto his face as he looked back to the display above. "He was so busy whinin' he didn't even notice when I set th' atmospheric unit on his fav'rite ship to run several degrees higher than it read out, an' to creep up over time. Idiot spent the whole flight sweatin' like an abilisk and nearly punched a hole in the console."

The Corpsman with the shimmering blond hair leaned forward to address Rocket. "Where would you suggest basing an assault, then?" He was standing close to Yondu, and almost directly across from Peter, so when he leaned in Peter thought he could make out the name 'Roshan' stitched onto the identification patch on his uniform in common.

Rocket strode forward, the lights of the table's holographic display flickered and distorted as he moved across them, careless of the advanced machinery. At the head of the table, Marlowe appeared deeply annoyed, her expression oddly reminiscent of looks Peter had seen Yondu give his own crew on many occasions. It must not be too big a risk to the table, however, because she didn't order him off.

"Hmmm, here's the place." Rocket pointed up at a section that was furthest from Peter. "The Red River."

From where he stood, Peter could make out two spiral galaxies in the section indicated, one a bit smaller than the other, with a strange film stretched over the both of them. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's a cold flow." Nebula explained. "Hydrogen gas flowing between two galaxies."

"Well Hydrogen's normal, right? For spiral galaxies?" It was common knowledge among pilots that spiral galaxies often had a thin layer of Hydrogen gas. It was one of the main limiting factors for materials when building and repairing ships, and Peter had been taught from as soon as he went on his first run with the Ravagers to regularly check over the fleet of M-ships for signs of corrosion in important places after exposure.

Newer, or more advanced ships like the Starburst wouldn't have any issues, but older and more utilitarianly constructed ships like the Eclector developed heavy layers of rust over time. It was what gave the Eclector it's characteristic reddish hue, a testament to how aged the ship was, and how long Yondu had kept it in flight. It was especially important among the often outdated and salvaged tech in their fleet to keep a close eye out for weak points and decay before it led to disaster.

"A current connecting two galaxies like this is rare." Nebula explained. "The gas will be much thicker, and far more corrosive." She turned her attention back to Rocket. "Why the Red River?"

"The transport ship'll pass right through it. S'got good shields, so's the gas ain't no trouble for em, and it would take cycles and eat up fuel to go 'round it, but it'll be too thick for their sensors and radios to work right once they're in deep. They won't see you coming and can't call for help. And the Kree ship patrols'll be keeping a good distance, assumin' the River will protect th' ship from pirates."

"For good reason I'm sure," Marlowe spoke up, tapping a control that changed the display so the entire table was now filled with the section Rocket had indicated. The Red River was massive, more like a red ocean that had swallowed up two whole galaxies. "Just how thick is the gas in this cold flow? We have a limited number of accessory ships. We need to be cautious with them."

Rocket gave a dismissive gesture. "Eh. So long's yous got good shields, one short trip in-n-out should be fine. If the rest of your fleet's as modern as this, anyways. Wouldn't take anythin' much older, though. How long you plannin' on dawdlin' in there?"

Marlowe stood straighter and addressed the table as a whole. "Our hope, is to be able to switch out the prisoners currently being transported on the ship with volunteers from the Corps, allowing them to join the population on the planet and gather information from the inside. A followup crew will meet up with them again during the next transport to plan our next move with the intel they can gather in that time. To make this work, the switch will need to be quick, and not cause any delay in the shipment that would cause alarm."

"I will be going down with you," Drax rumbled out. "It is my planet, and my people."

"We expected you might feel that way. The Nova Corps have no objection to you joining on this mission." She glanced more directly at Gamora and Nebula. "From those few prisoners that we've managed to save, both before and after the fall of Xandar, and even those who have escaped on their own, we've never seen evidence of Thanos's prisoners being marked or identified in any way. Would there be any sort of detailed manifest or way the staff on the planet would recognize a change of faces that we've missed?"

Gamora opened her mouth then hesitated and instead looked to her sister.

Nebula shrugged. "On a planet? It's unlikely. Unless it's a particularly notable prisoner, transports generally just have a number of bodies to expect on arrival. I can't imagine anyone coming in for labor work on a regularly scheduled shipment would entail anything of importance, so as long as you can make an equal exchange, no one on the planet should have any questions. The only issue would be the guards on the transport ship itself who would notice the change. Do you know what model ship the target is?"

Marlowe changed the image to display a pale, boxy vessel. "We've identified it as a Parmark, a fairly standard modern cargo vessel used by many empires and inter-galactic companies."

Rocket wandered back to stand on the edge of the table near Mantis so he could get a better look.

"That should solve the problem of the guards, then," Nebula said.

"How so?" a corpsman Peter didn't recognize asked.

"Parmarks are a low-value ship and require no special piloting skills, so it will be manned by a small number of low-ranking Kree soldiers from either Ronan or Korath's fleets. They'll have the standard uniform which cover their entire body. We can eliminate the guards, and replace them with stand-ins until the trade is complete. Gamora and I can take their uniforms and passcodes and pilot your team down. We know the routine enough to get you through without suspicion. At least I do."

"I'll be going in with the prisoners, and staying on the planet," Gamora stated, in a tone that was absolute.

"You don't think they'll recognize you?" Nebula practically sneered as she addressed her sister directly for the first time since the spar with Mantis.

"You don't think mingling in with the guards is risky?" Gamora shot back, looking on edge and defensive.

Nebula scoffed and placed her palms down on the table to lean towards her sister. "You didn't even recognize me when I was at your shoulder on the Oasis. The Kree uniform will cover everything down to my augmentations. You won't be so disguised coming down as a prisoner, and even the idiots delegated to planet duty will notice Thanos's missing favorite daughter and the last of the Zen Whoberi wandering about amongst them. At best, you'll be sent back to Thanos, and at worst you'll give away the entire plan and reveal the rest of us."

Gamora drew herself up and balled her hands into fists so tight the leather of her bracers strained. "I am going down there."

"We are sympathetic to your personal involvement here." Marlowe wrested back control of the meeting with a stern voice. "But by your own admission, you believe you've been to this planet before, and we have to assume the guards would have seen you. If you're going to be recognized, we can't allow you to jeopardize everyone else."

Gamora turned that stubborn look on Marlowe now. "I am not going to sit here and do nothing while my parents are down there."

"This is a Nova Corps mission." Marlowe met the assassin's eyes with a look only someone who was used to herding crowds of fresh and rowdy soldiers and corralling stubborn leaders onto task could master, and cut Gamora off with a tone that would have made Saal proud. The Prime's faith in leaving her in charge of such a vital task was obviously well placed. "You are here as a consult, at best. I would like to have us all working together, but I will not allow emotions to overrule logic here and put our people at risk."

Peter spoke up in support. "Gamora should come down with us. She's smart and would be handy in a fight if things go wrong, and even if she doesn't remember that place exactly, having someone with inside knowledge of Thanos's army with us could only help, right? She didn't get her reputation as a galaxy class assassin for nothing. We just need to figure out a disguise to smuggle her past the guards."

"Us?" Marlowe echoed. "Peter, if you can't wield the stone yet, sending you down there in person is risky, at best, to put it politely."

Peter straightened up and squared his shoulders. "I'm the leader of the Guardians. I'm not sending my team in somewhere I can't go myself. You wanted our help. And you're going to need it to pull this off. I still get a say in where I go, so I'm going down there, too."

"Getting Drax and some Xandarians onto a planet already full of them is one thing, but sneaking in a Terran and the last of the Zen Whoberi is a whole other matter."

Gamora leaned her arms onto the table and tapped the fingers of her right hand against it in an angry tic as she thought. After several furious taps she spoke again. "If I can work out a proper disguise and plan to meet your worries, will you reconsider my involvement?" It was obvious from her discomfort that she was not used to asking permission and not happy about it now, but recognized none of the Guardians were in any real position to force their way in.

"That shouldn't be too hard." Rocket jabbed a thumb towards where Drax was standing. "Drax the Dingbat there's already goin' down, right? Rough Gams up a little to hide her features, slap some red tattoos on and say she's a Kylosian bein' returned same's as him. And have the Stalker-lord stay in the back with you other flesh tones. Them planet guards won't look twice."

Drax had turned a threatening look towards the back of Rocket's head, but the raccoon was too far out of his reach for him to do anything.

"You really think that would work?" Roshan looked dubious.

Rocket gave a snort like he'd told a joke. "Ronan's low-ranked idiots couldn't even tell you, the Humie, or the A-Chilitarian over there-" Kraglin startled in place as Rocket pointed at him. "-apart if their pointless little lives depended on it. They's don't really need to, they just shoot anything runnin' outside the compound that's not Kree."

"Is that true?" Marlowe looked to Nebula for confirmation.

When Peter glanced over, the blue assassin was glaring daggers into the back of Rocket's head. She looked absolutely murderous, but as soon as Marlowe turned the room's attention her way she wiped away all traces of emotion and shrugged nonchalantly, straightening back up and crossing her arms loosely. "Effectively, yes," she admitted through grit teeth.

"Do we have a way to convincingly replicate Kylosian tattoos?"

Cosmo can take care of that. The dog thumped one paw up onto the table. Citizens of Knowhere come from many heritages, keep many paints and stains that can replicate tattos. Cosmo was planning to return there after brother Peter leaves for Villam anyways. Is no longer needed to keep watch over Ego's planet and disturbances in the Light. Cosmo will send message and have someone bring stains for green friend. Will head home on same ship. Is no extra trouble to do it this way.

"We'll... consider it, then," Marlowe sighed. "It would be good to have someone more versed in the enemy's schedules and weapons to asses their setup. But I make no promises until we've discussed this further, and I've spoken to Saal. It does bring us to the next point, though." She swiped through several images that didn't resolve enough for Peter to see what they could have been before ending on a new image. It was a stillshot of the grainy security feed of the Xandarians he'd seen a couple of days before. "We don't know the exact number of bodies we'll have to work with. From previous runs, we are assuming there will be between seven and twelve prisoners onboard which we will be retrieving and replacing with our own agents. How many of your Guardians, if we're to include you, are you offering to send down?"

"Well," Peter glanced at his teammates, "me, Drax, and Gamora are going, of course," he began, ignoring how Marlowe's frown twitched at Gamora's name. "Nebula's not staying, I guess..." Just saying it felt a little weird. Almost ominous. He'd grown very used to relying on her to have his back in a pinch. Groot and Mantis would be way too recognizable even if they wanted to go down, which neither one had given any indication they wanted, so they were out. The same could be said of Rocket. "So just three?"

"Up to three then," Marlowe nodded to herself and glanced around the Corpsmen at the table. "That leaves four to nine likely remaining shoes we need to be prepared to fill. Centurian Roshan will be the acting commander on this mission. Once this meeting is finished, please choose which crew members will be joining you on the planet and in what order. Once you have been delivered to the planet, we will stage the loss of the Parmark to pirates. There should be no time wasted on questions when we make contact with the Parmark and find out the final number. According to our estimation of their route, they should be passing through the Red River approximately one cycle from now. Possibly less. This shortens our timespan. Everything will need to be prepared for your departure by then, you will be unlikely to have any lines of communication once the trade is made."

"Before we take a break, though, I would like to address the issue of what will be done with the Guardians not going to Villam." She turned to address Peter directly once more. "Your companions Groot and Mantis have no criminal record with the Nova Corps or any affiliated entity, so they are free to do as they choose as any ordinary civilians. We could likely house them on the Starburst for a brief time if necessary. And Cosmo has offered to take them back to Knowhere for the time being as well, if that's what they would prefer. The remaining three, Nebula, Rocket, and possibly Gamora, however, we cannot allow to simply walk free.

"If you will not be staying behind to watch over them, then this poses an issue. The crew as a whole is in strong support of this mission. I believe even the more cautious council members and corpsmen could be persuaded to allow them back on board, especially if we are able to rescue any missing Xandarians from the Parmark with their help. However, if they were to come back to the Starburst they would, at the least, need to be re-confined to the containment unit with additional security measures, and the collar returned to the uplift until this mission is completed."

Rocket's fur bristled and his ears twisted back as he glared at the Prime's assistant. Behind him Mantis lifted one hand towards his neck as if on instinct, but caught herself before touching him. Her fingers hovered nervously just inches from the tips of his fur. Peter did nothing to stop her. Of everyone here, she and Cosmo were the best chance of stopping Rocket if he were to attempt something, without serious bodily harm or damaging the relationship between teams.

"Personally, I would recommend they return to Ego's planet, if possible."

Peter bit his lip. Ego would just love that. He would definitely ask a high price to host the Guardians without Peter even being there. Getting to hold on to his friends would guarantee Peter at least having to return to the living planet to retrieve them, and Peter still didn't trust the Celestial one bit. He'd been mostly ignoring the other Guardians during their stay, but there was no guarantee he'd be so tolerant without Peter right there to distract him and be aware of any issues. But asking them to return to the Starburst was also dangerous.

As his pulse sped up and he bit his lip, the sound of nails clicking against plastic and creak of stiff fabric drew his attention to his left. Cosmo was staring up at him, and as soon as Peter met his eyes, the dog glanced meaningfully across the table to where Yondu and Kraglin stood. It was a quick and darting glance, but obviously meant to tell Peter something.

When Peter took a good look at the captain that he'd been avoiding staring at too directly for the entire meeting, the man looked half-asleep with boredom. Kraglin at least stood at his usual sort of meeting time attention, which currently looked comically lackadaisical next to the trained soldiers around them, and was watching Peter back with some interest. Neither of the Ravagers had any real investment in this particular meeting. Yondu was probably just here expecting to pick Peter up and kick his ass in the comfort of his own ship once they all returned to the Eclector...

Oh! The message Cosmo must have been trying to convey clicked into place like it was obvious. "They can all stay on the Eclector!" The Nova Corps probably wouldn't be too happy, but they relied too much on the Ravagers right now to make a big deal out of it or demand their return. It would leave his team close and in sight, without being underfoot. And safely away from Ego.

That seemed to wake the captain up at least. "What? I ain't your damned daycare, boy!"

"Come on, Yondu, you've already had Nebula and Groot onboard. Mantis and Rocket won't be any trouble, either." Well, Mantis wouldn't. Rocket would probably be some trouble, but if Nebula was there she could keep an eye on him, and the explosions to a minimum. "I'm not going to ask them back to the Starburst." Rocket would almost definitely shoot him if he even tried. "And if they go back to Ego, he's not going to do it for free-"

Yondu gave a huff and brought his hands up in a silencing gesture at the mention of the celestial. "Fine! Fine," he snapped. "I'll play babysitter, but I don't give out free rides. They come onto my ship and they're earning their own keep s'long as their onboard. And I'm not taking that monkey." He pointed straight at Rocket, who was still standing stiffly on top of the table. "I got enough on my hands keeping that old ship in top fightin' shape, I don't need someone comin' in and tinkering with the life support as a lark."

"He won't be-"

"I mean it, boy. Those are the terms. Don't test me on this or I'll take no one at all."

Peter frowned, and turned to look at Rocket. "Well, I guess that leaves the Starburst or Ego," he said slowly.

Rocket stared back through Peter as he worked over the options in his head.

Peter was growing more and more certain Rocket would request to be sent back to Ego's planet. He was mentally preparing himself to have to face his father's unbearably smug look when Peter had to come crawling back to him with another request, when the raccoon finally answered.

"Neither option sounds all that appealin', so's I guess I'll be going down to Villam with you, Stalker-lord. I'm sure you'll love that."

"Down with us?" Peter tried to imagine Rocket trading places with one of the prisoners. "That might be pushing it..."

He laughed, harsh and mocking. "I could break in an' outta that place in my sleep! Smugglin' in and staying unnoticed for a dozen cycles won't even make me break a sweat. You're after a prison break plan, yeah? I think you'll find my expertise plenty helpful. Right Gams?"

Gamora looked surprised to be addressed but nodded. "Yes. It would be helpful if you were there. Thank you."

Peter couldn't help but wonder if this was a con for Rocket to get himself onto the planet to just steal away with another ship, but he'd have to trust him, like he was asking Rocket to trust them. And even if Rocket did just up and ditch them all at the first real chance, he was free from Thanos now. And rid of that stupid collar and muzzle. Peter had achieved that much at least.

-x-

Marlowe called the meeting to a temporary end, and the members began to break apart into smaller groups. The corpsmen all convened in one back corner, likely to make their decisions on who would be going like Marlowe had asked them to.

Cosmo hopped down from his crate and gave a deep bowing stretch.

"Going down there yourself is a stupid and unnecessary risk," Nebula grumbled, low enough to not be easily overheard. She was not looking directly at him as she watched the rest of the room's inhabitants shift about.

"I'm actually a little surprised you took this long to complain about it," Peter laughed.

She heaved a long-suffering sort of sigh. "Nothing short of breaking your spine would stop you, and then you'd be useless anyways. But if you get caught I won't be there to tell you 'I told you so,' so I'll do it now."

"You can do it when we all get back. It'll be fine. No one there will recognize me, and I have my cool new super-powers." He caught a flash of blue and red skirting around the rest of the Guardians and heading his way. "I think I'm in more imminent danger right now, anyways."

Peter took a quick step back so Cosmo was between him and the rapidly approaching captain.

The dog took one look at him, and struck off towards the entrance way of the meeting room, abandoning him entirely.

"Traitor!" Peter hissed after the retreating mutt. So much for them being 'brothers.'

Cosmo tilted his head to look back over his shoulder as he passed Yondu. Peter can sleep in bed he has made, the dog's voice laughed through Peter's skull. We can, howyousay, 'catch up' later.

"I thought you busted those old things beyond repair." Yondu was eyeing the blasters clipped into Peter's holsters accusingly as he neared. "I picked one of the shards from your pincushion of a face myself. The boys brought back the rest o'the scraps with your mangled ship."

"Oh! Uh..." It wasn't the direction he expected the conversation to go, but he was happy for anything that distracted the captain from socking him in the ribs again as an opening line. Peter unclipped a blaster and held it up. The difference between the sheen of his original blasters and the strange metal of these new ones was less obvious in the ship's artificial lights, but if anyone else would notice, it would be Yondu and Kraglin, who had known the blasters longer than they'd known him. "Yeah. The real ones are toast. Ronan's hammer didn't leave much behind. I made these with the Light."

Kraglin reached out to take the weapon. "You made 'em?" he asked, eyebrows raised like a cartoon character as he twisted the blaster around with an appreciative whistle. "Almost looks like when they were new! Case is a lil' different, though. They shoot just as good?"

"Not... really. Not the same, anyways. I can make 'elements' with them? Fire and lightning and stuff. I could make an inferno on the planet, it was really cool!" He paused and stared thoughtfully at the shimmering red case. "I haven't seen what I can still do off of Ego's planet, though."

"You fire those things off in here and that assistant will skin you alive," Nebula warned him. She hadn't moved when Yondu and Kraglin arrived, and was leaning against the table in easy earshot.

"Eh, let him try. Bet he couldn't even singe the tilework." Rocket was still on the table, but he'd circled around Nebula to watch the conversation as well.

The assassin turned her glare on him.

"What?" he asked. "She ain't gonna skin me."

Yondo snorted. "You wouldn't even make a rug fit to cram in front of the toilet."

"Hey!"

The captain ignored Rocket's shout to pluck the blaster from Kraglin's hands. "It seems like you an' your friends had fun down there on dear ol' dad's planet."

Peter grimaced. "Fun's a strong... inacccurate word. Didn't really have much of a choice after Rocket made an attempt on Saal's life in front of a whole court room of guards..." He shot an accusing look of his own at Rocket for all the trouble he had managed to cause in his first few hours of true consciousness on the Starburst.

"What? You want an apology? Well, I'm sorry I missed. I was a little off my game."

Peter sighed, and gave up on any attempt to reason with the raccoon over the trial. "Anyways, the universe wasn't consumed, everyone survived, Mantis is free, and I even got my blasters back, sorta, so... it's a net win, I think."

"Oh yeah. Everythin's just peachy." Yondu was staring down at the blaster through narrowed eyes. "What is this made of?"

"It almost looks like trillite don't it?" Kraglin was leaning in to eye to blaster again.

The corner of Yondu's frown twitched downward. "No. This ain't th' same material as my arrow... but it's close. Closer'n anything I've seen. How'd you make this, boy?"

"I dunno, I just sort of... made it? The Light can just... will stuff into existence I guess? Ego said the Celestials like him were the original builders of the universe or whatever. Built the planets and galaxies and stuff."

Yondu's blue fingers tapped at the metal casing while he regarded Peter thoughtfully. His deep red irises were nearly black under the shadows of his brows. "That's a handy power, by the sounds of it."

Peter rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, I'm limited to just a few things right now. I think I could only make the blasters out of this weird metal because they have pieces of core in them."

"Core?" Kraglin asked.

"Uh... brain chunks."

Kraglin's eyebrows shot up and he wiped the hand that had been holding the blaster against his jacket.

"Captain Udonta?" Marlowe was approaching from behind Peter. "I was hoping to have a word with you?"

"Yeah, sure," Yondu grunted and handed the blaster back to Peter. "Don't think you're off the hook, boy."

Marlowe paused to address Peter. "Peter, if you would like there's a spare crew-quarter on board where you and your Guardians can take a break. There should be a stocked kitchenette in there, too, if you need food or refreshments. We don't have a mess hall on this ship. I'll be leaving shortly to report to Saal back on the Starburst while the Herald remains stationed here. If you need anything, please ask for Dey."

"Oh, Okay." They'd eaten dinner not that long ago. It was probably wasn't even midnight on Ego's planet right now, but it had been a long day. Dueling with Nebula and using the Light was exhausting, and Peter had been on his feet nearly all day since Drax had yanked him from his mattress that morning. "That sounds good." He wondered when Marlowe was planning to sleep. She didn't look much more well-rested than Peter felt.

She waved an arm and a young corpsman with wavy dark hair stepped up. "Denerian Lan will lead you there. You and your crew will need to have an escort if you leave that room at any time you're on board the Herald."

Lan gave a small nod and a friendly salute towards Peter and the remaining Guardians as he skirted around them and towards the doorway. "It's right this way."

Drax and Groot followed him out first, with Mantis hurrying to catch up. Rocket finally gave up his spot on the table top and he and Gamora filtered out the door next, leaving Peter and Nebula in the back.

As they passed the staircase they'd initially taken up, Peter ducked his head through and found the loading bay empty. Ego was nowhere in sight.

"Rodent?" They were only a couple yards past the stairway when Gamora spoke up.

Rocket turned his head to look at her, and even from behind, Peter could see the almost gleeful look on his face as he answered. "Yeah, Gams?" Peter got the feeling Rocket knew what she was about to ask, and clearly the answer was good enough for Rocket to not even mind the insulting nickname.

"The last time you were on my Warbird... Did you break the speakers in the flight deck?"

"They're not broken!" he denied in mock innocence, but the broad grin was fixed firmly in place, ruining the effect. "They's just got a little bit o' extra pitch, ands a small feedback echo. Seemed only fair since you're th' source of so many of my headaches."

Gamora sucked in a breath and looked ready to give him a piece of her mind, but after a moment her shoulders slumped as she sighed the breath back out. She instead sped up to walk beside Mantis and Drax.

Nebula was staring after her sister, her lips twisted into a smirk like Christmas came early when Peter looked at her.

"What did he do to you?" he asked. With Korath's ACU and Gamora's speakers, Rocket seemed to have a pattern here.

"Nothing," she shrugged, then looked at Rocket with narrowed eyes and added, "That I know of."

The raccoon glanced back at them. "Nebula and I didn' work together much, on account 'a us both bein' so modified and all," he explained, which Peter noted didn't actually answer the original question.

Peter scrunched his face up. "Why would that matter?"

"Well, we's considered what you'd call 'specialized equipment' and there's not much sense in sendin' the both of us to the same job when you only need one. That's just redundant." The teeth in his smile flashed under the lights they were passing underneath. "And there's not many jobs that ever needed more'n one. Isn't that right, Nebs?"

"Don't lump me in with you."

"Ah, c'mon. I always took you as a realist, at least. We's the same, you'n me. -Actually, I think there's more left'a me than there is of you nowadays.- You even got Half-world tech in you now. You's practically an uplift yourself."

"Don't call me that!" she snarled.

Rocket threw his head back and laughed at the furious look on Nebula's face. All trace of her earlier humor was gone, and Peter thought he felt a pair of realizations simultaneously click into place.

The mystery of why Rocket seemed so much more willing to interact with Nebula than the rest of them had been solved, it seemed. Peter had just sort of assumed that since they hadn't 'worked together' often, according to all accounts, that there just wasn't as much bad blood between the pair of them as Rocket had with Gamora and Korath. And that was probably still part of it, but with this latest revelation, it sounded like Rocket had drawn a similarity between the two of them. One that Nebula didn't seem to appreciate.

Peter didn't remember any such immediate kinship between them before, but maybe because in this universe, Rocket never escaped Halfworld and clearly didn't get along with Groot, so Nebula was now the closest thing he had to a peer? He'd clearly known her much longer here than in the universe Peter knew. She'd told him she spent time on Halfworld to receive and test some of her augmentations, and he'd made it sound like they had been on at least one or two missions together at some point.

At the same time those thoughts were swirling around, a distant memory surfaced of when Peter and Nebula had spoken in his room aboard the Milano before the battle on Traxxon III. The strange look on her face when he'd nearly snapped at her in defense of Rocket, after she'd accused him of comparing the two like it was an insult.

It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time, but maybe there was more to it? Even in their relatively brief time together Rocket –his Rocket- certainly had enough insecurities revolving around his augmentations and the status of his 'humanity' to nearly drown him on a number of occasions, in liquor or rage or throws of depression-fueled self-destruction. He'd expected to find the same with Rocket here, maybe even worse with the way he'd been treated as basically just an animal or a tool under Thanos's thumb. Peter hadn't really considered the same could be true of Nebula, though. Which felt silly now, knowing what Gamora had confessed to him of their childhood and how the Titan had raised them.

What was it Rocket had called her? 'Gam's spare parts?' In this universe, he obviously knew more about the sisters' upbringing than Peter had until recently. He probably still knew more. And what was it his own Rocket had shouted at him about being 'ripped apart and put back together?' It echoed oddly against the memory of what Nebula had screamed during the sisters' fight in the Milano's engine room of what her father had done to her. The connection seemed painfully obvious now.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe she was just scared that someday she could be treated with as much disregard as Rocket was if Thanos had the whim and so drew as much distance between them as she could. Maybe she just didn't like him. Peter didn't really know enough about their history to say, and got the feeling this was one bomb he shouldn't pry open.

"'Sides," Rocket was continuing, his head tilted up tauntingly as he continued to stare back over his shoulder with that cruel grin. "Nebula's never had nothin' worth tryin' t'break." A few more teeth grew visible as he locked eyes with her, mockingly, before shifting to meet Peter's. "Not 'til recently, anyways."

Peter didn't have time to think what that was supposed to mean. Nebula was suddenly lunging forward. Her foot came down so hard, the hallway rang with the sound of her boot striking the flooring where Rocket had been walking. The smug raccoon was long gone by the time her heel landed, already darting ahead to scramble up onto Mantis's shoulder. There was another small shriek of surprise as he nearly unbalanced the empath for the second time that cycle.

"I'm starting to miss that muzzle," Nebula snarled after him.

The only answer was Rocket's laughter echoing back down the hallway.

End

Chapter 21 preview: "...Pale eyes that always looked just a little sad finally met his. "I'm not too worried 'bout me," Kraglin said, "I'll be alright either way, 'cording to you, but-... can you really do that to the rest of the crew? To the Cap'n? He won't say nothin', hasn't even told the crew yet. -I don't know if he even will 'til he knows for sure what'll happen. He's always kept your secrets. But he's not oblivious to what resettin' your universe could mean. I know we always had our differences, but we was family... Weren't we?..."

Another long delay, sorry. The next two chapters are finished and titled "The Approaching Curve" and "Don't Let the Neighborhood Hear." Since they're all closely tied together, and it's not a lot of action, I was waiting until I had certain parts finished and in concrete before posting this one. I also have the next three chapters of Tenebris done and should hopefully be posting them soon. My plan right now is to post Tenebris Ch5 next week, and Luciferous CH 21 the week after, then Tenebris CH 6 the week after, and so on. Hopefully I'll have Ch 23 done and ready to post in time if I space them out. lol. But no promises. I haven't had a lot of writing time these days.

Rocket's comment at the end ties into the aside "Even if it Kills Me" of a conversation he and Nebula have on Ego's planet.

-OMaM