Post by Drake on Jul 25, 2014 21:11:58 GMT -5
#4: More Than Meets the Eye Part 4
One of a Kind
By Drake
Milago slowed down, now moving fast enough to gently soar through the cosmos. Heather leaned forward in the copilot seat, eyes widening as the incandescent stars around her came into view. Space. The Final Frontier. Somehow it was even prettier to Heather all the way across the universe without a planet she recognized in sight. This, Heather realized, was true beauty. Sadly, her serenity would not last.
“Just drop me off on Prell,” Rocket grumbled, “If it’s really that big a deal for you.”
“No, again, for the last time. Taking you anywhere in the Kree or Spartoi empires is a bad idea,” Peter argued.
“Then just take me to the d’ast Keystone Quadrant!” Rocket said.
“No! It’s completely out of the way! You’re safer staying with us anyway!”
“I am Groot,” the tree-man admitted.
Rocket turned to Groot and frowned, “So what if he’s right? I’ve gotta get back! Who knows how bad things’ve gotten while I’ve been gone!”
“Rocket, your Loonies can wait—“
“Loonies?” Heather wondered aloud, jumping into the conversation.
“How dare you call them that!” Rocket exclaimed.
“That’s what you call ‘em, isn’t it?”
“So what if it is? What the hell does that have to do with anything, anyway??”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“You’re d’ast right I’m being serious. This is a very serious situation with very serious circumstances that could very well lead to a very serious problem for me and the Loons!” said Rocket.
“You just called them Loons!” Peter pointed out.
“What’s your point?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding….” Peter face-palmed.
“There’s a big difference between Loons and Loonies,” Rocket said.
“I’m counting two letters,” Peter held up two fingers on his right hand to emphasize his point.
“Exactly!”
“Rocky…”
“Enough!” Heather exclaimed, “Seriously, enough. What are Loons or Loonies or whatever, and why do you want to go to the…the Keystone Quadrant, Rocket?”
“The Keystone Quadrant is my home,” Rocket said matter-of-factly.
“Oh.”
“The Loons…well, that’s not really important now,” Rocket turned away, expression solemn, “Point is I’ve got to get home. Quill knows why.”
“Rocket, we could work together as a team. Get the bastards that set me up, make a score bigger than you can imagine…” Peter pointed out.
“D’ast you, Quill!” Rocket suddenly turned to Peter, a ferocity in his eyes Heather had never seen, even in battle. For that brief second, Rocket looked just like any other wild animal, primal anger bubbling to the surface. “That’s what you never got. You always worry about yourself, or the score. Me? I’ve got thousands on my mind, and not one of those is numero uno.” Rocket pointed to himself. “Guess what, bud? I have bigger things to worry about than making a few bucks with you and Ms. Misfit!”
Peter was stunned into silence. Heather couldn’t help but react the same way. She’d always assumed Rocket was a thug, but the way he talked…
“Well…?” Rocket broke the silence, seething.
Peter looked away from Rocket, dejected. He nodded. “We’ll take you to the Keystone Quadrant, but I’ve got to stop to refuel. The hyper jets took a lot out of Mil.”
“Good. Fine. Whatever,” Rocket muttered. He sat back down on a box and looked at Groot. “Still planning on coming with me?”
His friend nodded, “I am Groot.”
Rocket crossed his arms in response.
Heather swiveled her seat around to face space. Peter meddled with switches next to her.
“The nearest rest stop with cadatronium fuel tubes is on the Kree moon, Delione 5.” Milago announced.
“Thanks,” Peter whispered and set course.
---GotG---
Milago landed gently on Delione 5, a rocky moon colony on the edge of the Kree Empire. The colony was home to a few hundred thousand people inside an unsurprisingly rundown city. Milago sat down in one of the few rest stops on the colony, a ragged open building the size of a football field. The stop was separated into five sections, each set up with a small tower filled with different colored fuels.
“It’ll take me a few minutes to refuel. Anyone wants something to eat, there’s a small grocery store there,” Peter pointed to a small building on the edge of the rest stop, “Or if you want to get cleaned up, I’ve got a shower in the back.”
“You have a shower on the ship?” Heather exclaimed.
“Yep,” Peter admitted and pointed to a small portion of the ship separated off from the rest by two walls. “Right there.”
“I…wow. Spaceships have showers. Awesome,” Heather stood up, “I wouldn’t mind cleaning all the blood off of me.”
Rocket didn’t offer a response, just fiddling with a few metal parts and the rifle he’d taken from the prison ship. Peter opened up the hatch, slid a few metal coins into a slot in the tower and pulled a long tube into Milago. He began refueling the ship.
“Sorry about earlier. You were right; you need to go home. The Loons need you,” Peter said, not looking up at Rocket. That was good, because Rocket couldn’t look back at Peter.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have exploded out at you like that,” Rocket pulled a part off the gun.
“No, you absolutely should have. I needed to be told off. I…” Peter sighed, “I’ve been thinking a lot, especially while I was in prison, and…” Peter managed to look up and finally noticed Rocket’s fiddling.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked.
“Fixing the gun,” Rocket explained.
“Fixing the gun?”
“I guess making it better is a little more accurate. Changing it to a bazooka,” Rocket admitted.
“A bazooka?” Peter exclaimed.
“Yeah, y’know, a rocket launcher. Makes things go boom.”
“I know what a bazooka is. Why the krutack are you making that gun into a bazooka on a spaceship fueled by an extremely flammable substance??”
“I’m not gonna load it,” Rocket argued.
“What if something goes wrong? What if it blows up?”
“It won’t.”
“How can you be sure?” Peter finished refueling and threw the tube out of the ship. Then he pulled the gun out of Rocket’s hands. “No inventing.”
Rocket grumbled like a child, “You just wanna suck the fun out of everything.”
“Play nice, you two,” Heather called from inside the shower, as hot water washed away the blood on her skin and drained down into a compartment below.
“Yes, mother,” Rocket retorted.
Peter sat down in the pilot’s seat and began to take off. Milago lifted into the air, shaking the ship.
“I should warn you, Heather--!” Peter called back, but was interrupted as Heather came crashing through the metal door of the shower alongside a small puddle of water with a resounding smack.
“I am Groot.”
“Yeah, I’m likin’ the view too,” Rocket grinned, glancing up and down Heather’s naked form. The woman covered herself with her arms as best she could and ran back into the shower, screaming curse words.
“I am Groot,” the tree-man insisted, pointing to the water as it splashed against his leg and disappeared in the bark.
“Oh…you were thirsty,” Rocket noticed, before looking up at his friend, “Do you even…like girls? Or guys, whatever.”
“I am Groot.”
“Really. And you reproduce how?”
“I am Groot.”
“Wait, you’re saying…”
“I am…”
“Let’s just stop there, Groot, ol’ buddy, ol’ tree,” Rocket turned away, bewildered, “I think I’ve heard enough about plants for today.”
“In this solar system, a new day has just begun,” Milago stated.
“Lucky for you, Rocky,” Peter teased.
Rocket covered his face with his hands as Groot continued on, “I am Groot.”
“Seriously, Groot, that’s enough for a lifetime…” Rocket sighed, before finishing quietly, “And I thought Skrull reproduction was weird…”
Milago sailed onwards through the cosmos, as Peter prepared the hyper jets and Heather dried off and shouted from the showers, “Someone throw me clean clothes.”
Rocket stood up and walked over to the bag of items Quill had pulled from the prison ship. He zipped it open and looked inside.
“Um…” Rocket pulled out a pair of brown pants and a red button up shirt, “How’s Peter’s clothes sound? We don’t have anything for ye of the opposite sex in here.”
“Sorry, couldn’t find anything,” Peter shouted back.
“Just throw it in,” Heather said, “I don’t exactly like skirts and skinny jeans anyway.”
“Dunno what jeans are,” Rocket threw the clothes over the door, “But I bet you’d look d’ast good in anything, beautiful.”
“My life keeps getting weirder…” Heather muttered, “Getting hit on by a raccoon…”
“Rocket, you’re not my type,” Heather said.
“Not into the small, furry, and incredibly charming types?” Rocket said ‘small’ and ‘furry’ as if they were the greatest things in the universe.
“No…well, yeah, but really…” Heather stepped out of the shower in the clothing given to her, her hair tied back into a ponytail with a piece of the button up, “I just like girls.”
“That’s cool,” Rocket walked back to his seat on a box and sat down, “Guess there’s really no point in me trying then, huh?” Rocket winked playfully.
Heather smiled, “No, I don’t think you’d have much luck.”
“Well, that explains me not being your type,” Peter said as Milago burst into hyper speed. Heather stumbled back a bit at the sudden jump. “You’re the first…”
“And certainly not the last,” Heather teased.
“You keep thinking that,” Peter laughed.
After thirty or so minutes of playful banter and teasing, Peter clocked in, “We’re approaching the Keystone Quadrant.”
Milago began to slow down out of hyper speed. Rocket stood up and patted Groot on his leg.
“Well, this is where I bid farewell to…” Rocket’s eyes widened as a planet came into view. Smoke clouded much of the atmosphere. Fiery letters were scrawled into the planet’s surface.
“No,” Rocket collapsed to his knees. Heather ran to his side and wrapped her arms around him.
She looked up, “What does it say?”
“I am Groot,” the tree-man tried. Heather sighed and looked to Peter.
“Peter…” Heather begged, but Peter couldn’t respond. He was frozen in his seat, mouth agape.
“Warning.”
Heather looked at Rocket, who glared at the planet, his animalistic fury back and bolder than ever, “It says ‘warning.’ They’re threatening us.”
“Who? The Spartoi?” Heather wondered. Rocket pulled himself out of Heather’s arms and ran up to Peter’s side. He pushed the man out of the pilot’s seat. Peter didn’t fight back.
“Let’s find out,” Rocket growled, leading the ship into the smoky atmosphere. It was a pain, but Rocket managed to land alongside what looked like the remains of a church.
“Open up,” Rocket ordered. Milago didn’t offer more of a response than opening her hatch and allowing Rocket to scamper out. Heather and Groot ran after him, while Peter just continued to sit on the ground of the ship, eyes wide.
Rocket turned every which way. No life could be seen. Corpses of indeterminable species littered the ground. Even the trees were dying. Groot gently touched one, expression solemn. “I am Groot.”
“No! Shut up, Groot!” Rocket yelled, “They can’t be…”
“Rocky…”
The raccoon immediately turned to the voice. It came from beneath the rubble of the church. Heather called after Rocket as he ran towards the voice.
“Help me clear away the debris!” Rocket demanded. Heather didn’t hesitate. She began to throw off bricks and chunks of rock, but they weren’t getting anywhere. A faint “Rocky” wisped out a few more times.
“I am Groot.”
Groot pushed the two aside and threw away hundreds of pounds of rock at a time. Within seconds, the debris was clear to expose the injured form of a walrus dressed in a torn shirt and slacks.
“Wal…” Rocket grabbed his fin-hand, “Buddy…”
“Rocky,” the walrus coughed up blood, “It’s really you. I thought I was dreaming when I heard your voice…”
“Keystone…” Rocket began.
“Is destroyed,” Wal Russ managed. Rocket’s expression darkened. His gaze fell to the ground. Heather gasped.
After a few tense seconds, Rocket looked back up, both tears and a thirst for blood in his eyes, “Who did this?”
“I…” he coughed, “I dunno. The ship came…was huge…black, shaped like a bird.”
“The Kree Accuser Corps.”
All three of the prison escapees turned around to face Peter Quill, whose hands were hidden in his jacket’s pockets, his expression dark, “That’s a necroship of the Accuser Corps. They must’ve used a Planetkiller. That’s the only explanation for how they could’ve done all this in such a short period of time.”
“Those sons of…” Rocket growled. He turned back to Wal Russ, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Wal.”
“You kiddin’?” Wal tried a laugh and failed, instead coughing up more blood, “Thank the creator you weren’t here. At least one of us lives on…”
“No, I…”
“Shut it, Rocky,” Wal smiled, “You and your ego. Not everything revolves around you, Rocket Raccoon.”
Rocket shuddered at the comment, and pulled himself away. He looked Wal in the eyes, “You never give me any slack, Wal Russ.”
“’Course not. Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”
Rocket looked away, apparently unable to respond. Heather couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it couldn’t be good. Soon enough, the raccoon looked back down at his friend, an obviously forced smile on his face.
“Close your eyes, buddy. Gonna give you some medicine now, make you all better,” Rocket said.
Wal grinned, but a tear fell down his cheek. He closed his eyes. Rocket held his hand out to Peter, who gave him one of his pistols. Heather forced back a gasp.
“You always were a bad liar, Rocky…” Wal said through muffled sobs.
Rocket aimed the pistol at Wal’s head and fired.
“I’ll get the fuckers who did this to you, to all of you, I swear…” Rocket whispered, before turning back and walking into Milago. Groot followed him. Peter stayed back and wrapped his arm around Heather, who couldn’t tear her eyes away from the body of Wal Russ.
“Rocket…he…”
“He’s a hero,” Peter explained, “Was a protector for this place, full of crazy people who couldn’t take care of themselves. All the animals helped out, but Rocket…he was special. He saved lives. One day, the Loons got sick. They started to get violent, and there was nothing in the quadrant to help them. Rocket left home to look for a cure. Through some unfortunate circumstances, he found himself in jail with Groot. Now…”
“He comes back and there’s nothing left. He thinks he failed them, that he left them to die,” Heather finished, covering her mouth, “Oh my God.”
Peter led Heather back into the ship. “It’s really my fault.”
“No, Peter…”
“If I’d just let him stay in jail then…”
“Then what?” Rocket cocked a rifle in the ship’s hatch, waiting, “Then I’d rot there while the Loons lost it and ruined everything we worked for? No, I don’t think so. Peter, you did nothing wrong, despite how much I want to claw your eyes out right now…”
“Rocket, I’m sorry,” Peter apologized.
“Don’t be. Really. My anger’s my problem. I hate myself much more than I hate you right now anyway. Hell, you wanna know the real truth…?” Rocket frowned. “I hate this damn Kree Accuser more than I even hate myself, and that’s saying something. So, you wanted me in? Well, I’m in—all the way. Let’s make these jerks wish they never heard the name Rocket Raccoon.”
Peter actually smiled a bit, “Let’s.”
“Hey! Don’t waste my time grinning like an idiot! Get us to the Kree Empire!” Rocket demanded. Peter agreed to go back to the pilot’s seat, where he sat, down, but about the rest…
“Rocket, going to the Kree Empire is a bad idea. A straight assault could lead to us getting killed, the Element Gun getting turned over, and the Accuser asshole surviving to laugh over our corpses,” Peter put Milago into autopilot to leave the planet’s atmosphere. He swiveled around in his seat.
“Well, you have any better ideas?” Rocket asked.
“We should find out what the Element Gun is and why this Kree Accuser—or hell, the entire Accuser Corps wants it,” Peter said.
“Don’t we know? It’s an ancient weapon of a demi-god. That’s what you told me, right?” Heather interjected.
“Demi-god?” Rocket grunted, “Please. That implies there’s a god to begin with, and lemme tell you, there ain’t no such thing.”
“I’m not much of a believer myself, but it may be the only shot we’ve got. I mean, what exactly does the gun do?” Heather wondered.
“Probably a Planetkiller,” Rocket said, “In case you can’t tell…”
“Yeah, I know. A weapon that wipes out all life on a planet like the one the Accusers used on…” Heather stopped mid-sentence and covered her mouth with her hand, “Oh, Rocket, I’m sorry…”
“Mhm. Whatever,” Rocket grumbled.
Peter tried to get back to the point before the conversation got any more tense, “She has a point, Rocket. We don’t know what the Element Gun can do, and if I was willing to bet, I’d say this thing,” Peter picked up the Element Gun from by his feet, “Is worse than a Planetkiller. If the Kree already got them—which we know they do—then why the hell’d they need another?”
“They’re not exactly easy to produce,” Rocket pointed out.
“Well, then why should this be any different?” Peter said. “Unless it was a weapon made by a god…”
“THERE AIN’T NO GOD OR GODS!” Rocket yelled, standing up, “If there were--! …If there were….they wouldn’t‘ve let Keystone….”
Rocket collapsed back onto the box, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. Groot, silent until this point, patted Rocket on his shoulder and reassured him, “I am Groot.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Rocket muttered, “Glad I’m not the only unbeliever.”
Peter struggled to speak up, but he knew he had to. Rocket had to know. If they had any chance of figuring out the Element Gun, it would be there…
“You’re wrong, Rocket. Gods do exist,” Peter said. Rocket looked up and glared at him, silently daring Peter to prove him wrong.
“Peter…” Heather began, but her fellow escapee interrupted her.
“Gods do exist…well, in a slightly untraditional sense. Ever heard of the Celestials?” The silent response was all Peter needed to hear. He grinned.
“Get ready for the biggest shock of your life.”
NEXT TIME: The Guardians go you know where…