Post by Drake on Oct 30, 2014 15:54:52 GMT -5
#6: More Than Meets the Eye Part 6
Enter the Annihilators!
By Drake
Previously in Guardians of the Galaxy…
Our motley band of outlaws found themselves on Knowhere, searching for answers to the secrets of the Element Gun. After being pointed towards a Spartoi temple, the crew was attacked by Drax the Destroyer, one of Ronan’s assassins and a complete maniac. However, there may be more to Drax than meets the eye. Heather seemed to recognize him as her father!
----
“Dad?”
Drax’s knife stopped at Heather’s throat. He looked the Terran in the eye, bewildered. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. He paused, shutting his mouth, before frowning and raising his knife again, a thirst for blood back in his eyes.
“DAD!” Heather repeated, now more sure than ever that Drax and her father, Arthur Douglas, were one and the same. Why else wouldn’t he have killed her on the spot? There must be some little fragment of him in there!
Drax didn’t lower his knife, but he didn’t kill Heather either, “Girl, I am not your father.” He didn’t seem so sure.
“Yes, you’re my dad, Arthur Douglas. You…God, what did they do to you?” Heather wondered.
“I am…” Drax scrunched his face, before his head exploded into pure agony. He reached back to hold his head, knife still in hand, only to be knocked away and into a tent.
“I am Groot!” The tree-man proudly declared.
“You d’ast well are,” Rocket grinned, standing on his friend’s shoulder. The raccoon hopped down to Heather, who now sat up.
“What the hell are you doing? I was getting to him!” Heather shouted.
Rocket frowned, “Is that a sex thing? ‘Cuz lemme be the first to tell you that that’s gross.”
“No, Rocket, I—“
“RRRAAAHHHH!!!” Drax charged the two outlaws, knives in hand. All hesitation he had was gone.
Groot stepped in front of his allies, and took a defensive stance. He swung wildly at Drax, but the maniac ducked under the blow and chopped his arm off with two clean swipes. Groot tried with his other arm, but lost it too.
“I am—“
“GROOT!” Rocket shouted, as his friend was stabbed in the gut and kicked away. The ferocious, furry fugitive turned to Drax, primal fury in his eyes. “You done screw up now, baldie.”
The raccoon charged Drax and managed to dodge a knife blow, before being elbowed in the stomach and knocked away, leaving just the Destroyer and Heather alone again. The maniac pushed the Terran into a wall and firmly held his hand against her throat, choking her.
“Dad…” Heather garbled. Drax tightened his grip.
FWOOM!
The Destroyer found himself, yet again, knocked away from Heather and into a makeshift home. Peter Quill, jaw agape, stood a few feet from Heather, Element Gun in hand, still whishing with air.
“Would it be weird if I said that I might’ve just peed myself a little?” Peter muttered. Heather couldn’t help but smile.
“NO MORE!”
All the outlaws, back on their feet and united again, turned to Drax’s furious figure.
“NO MORE!” He cried out, holding his knives at his side.
Peter glanced at his newfound friends, “We die together.”
“I am Groot.”
“Screw that. I’m gonna live to kill another day,” Rocket retorted.
Drax began to step forward. Heather frowned. “One last chance, Dad…”
WEEOOOWEEEOOO!
Drax stopped midstep and looked past the outlaws to the end of the alley. Peter, Rocket, and Groot followed his gaze, but Heather remained firmly fixed on the Destroyer.
“Cops,” Rocket stated.
“About d’ast time,” Peter grinned.
“Cops?” Heather turned around, coming face to face with two floating scooter-like machines carrying two large yellow-skinned aliens in a gray uniform, and a brown dog dressed in…was that a Russian cosmonaut outfit? Heather glanced back at Drax, only to find him gone. That was fine. In the end, she would find him, and she would save him. Nothing had changed.
“Is that…?” Rocket began.
“Yep,” Peter nodded, “The bitch.”
<Cosmo beink quite offended by that comment.> A high voice boomed inside each of the outlaws’ heads. <I certainly am beink a male dog.>
“’Bitch is in our heads,” Rocket noticed.
<It appears rodent is not hearink correctly. Cosmo is male dog.>
“Rocket, don’t push this,” Peter grumbled.
“We’re alone to take the blame for this after all,” Heather motioned around to the destruction Drax had caused, causing the others to realize for the first time that the Destroyer had disappeared.
“Son of a—“
<Watch your language, rodent.>
“I am not a—“
<SILENCE!> All the outlaws collapsed to the ground in pain, holding their heads, <By order of Knowhere Security, you all are beink arrested for destruction of property.>
“We didn’t do this, ya bitch!” Rocket shouted.
<And the classless abusink of the Head of Security.>
“Wait…” Suddenly it all clicked for Heather, “By bitch you mean, that dog is literally…”
<Yes, my name is beink Cosmo. You all are under arrest.>
Rocket frowned, “Son of a flarnag.”
---GotG---
“For the last time, we did not blow up that alley!” Peter Quill repeated, as he was roughly pushed into a brightly lit room by a tentacled guard, who shut the door after him.
“$%^& you too!” Rocket shouted after the cops.
“I am Groot!”
“What he said!” Rocket agreed.
“I’m pretty sure all he said was ‘I am Groot,’” Heather collapsed into a chair near the middle of the room, and resignedly lay her head down onto the desk in front of her.
Rocket frowned, sitting back into a chair by Heather, “I’m pretty sure we’ve gone over this. Groot’s vocabulary’s a helluva lot more complicated than—“
“—We can comprehend. I got it. Just being an ass, is all,” the Terran interjected.
“Don’t need that now. We’ve gotta stand together. We can get through this if we tell ‘em the truth; talk our way out of this,” Peter said.
“Oh yeah, that’ll go over just great,” Rocket muttered, “Guess what, Mr. Bitch? We’re criminals with rap sheets bigger than Uranus, and we’ve stolen a weapon wanted by a crazy evil Kree tyrant. But wait, there’s more! Heather over here’s dad might be a psycho killer, and Groot can’t say shit that’ll help us in ANY situation, ‘less we’re gonna introduce ourselves over and over again.”
“I am Groot,” the giant argued.
“What? It’s true,” Rocket said dejectedly, “What would we do if we got out anyway? Fight the most dangerous assassins in the universe and wage war against the fragging Kree armada? Sounds like a suicide mission to me.”
“What happened to avenging Halfworld?” Peter asked.
Rocket leaped off his seat and stood atop Peter’s lap, grabbing the thief by the collar of his jacket. Rearing his teeth, Rocket said, “Don’t bring them into this.”
“All I’m saying is you’ve got a reason for fighting,” Peter calmly looked Rocket in the eyes.
“And what’s yours, Peter?” Rocket let go of Quill’s collar and hopped to the ground, “Huh? Why’re you trying to save the galaxy? There ain’t a big score at the end ‘a this. More likely than not, we ain’t even gonna come out with the win, let alone alive. Why do you want ta guard the whole d’ast galaxy from an unstoppable threat?”
Peter looked as if Rocket had just stabbed him with his words. For the first time, the not-so-Legendary Peter Quill found himself weak and vulnerable in front of the others. Why was he fighting this fight? Why did he choose the good over the bad? It was simple really, but brutally embarrassing.
“I’m guilty.” Peter whispered.
“What?” Rocket pushed. Heather—all too aware the two men needed to work out their differences—had stayed silent until this point. She tried to speak up, to defend Peter, but the man stopped her, holding his hand up to silence her.
“I feel guilty.” Peter took a deep breath. “On the R-Son, when the Spartoi were interrogating me about the Element Gun, they’d use more than physical torture. They’d call me names—murderer, outcast, loser—and bring up all the crimes I’d committed, all the people I’d killed. Y’know, in my line of work, you learn to not think about the past, to treat each job like a new start, but when you hear all the horrible things you’ve done, you really start to realize the mark you’re leaving on the galaxy. I’d think about all the innocent, broken faces I had pushed to the back of my mind. I’d think about every house I had burned, every livelihood I’d ruined. It adds up. Eventually, it wasn’t the whippings or the gassings I’d dread, but the…I don’t know what to call it…the wake up calls?”
And then, weakly, Peter declared “I am scum.”
“Peter--?” Rocker interjected.
“No, let me finish,” Quill demanded. Rocket reluctantly agreed. Heather gave Peter a reassuring nod, before he continued, “I don’t want to keep hurting other people…at least, not good people. I want to help out, make a difference. It just so happens, the way I can best do that is by protecting the Element Gun and taking the Kree bastard who’s after us down. I want to make up for past wrongs. I want to guard the galaxy.”
<And you will.>
The door to the brightly lit interrogation room slid open, and in trotted Cosmo, the head of security. With what everyone assumed was a smile, Cosmo projected, <I was listenink to you all because, you see, Cosmo can hear your surface thoughts, but I can not truly be diggink into your heads, knowink the truth. People lie when they know they are beink prodded. People speak honestly when they think they are alone.>
“So this interrogation room is just so…?” Heather began, before pausing and then saying, “I thought we were about to play a serious game of good cop, bad cop.”
<No, only good cops here,> Cosmo replied, <And we good cops will be helpink you. Between images in your minds and your true motives, Cosmo think he can can trust you.>
“That easy? Doesn’t feel right,” Rocket admitted.
<No catch. Cosmo is speakink truth.>
“I don’t know…”
“We’ll take your help, whatever it is. I do hope it includes us being set free,” Peter wondered.
<Of course. Only need to go through Knowhere court first,> Cosmo explained.
“Knowhere court?” Rocket exclaimed.
“Oh God…” Peter mumbled to himself, before saying aloud, “You’re not saying we have to wait till…?”
<Knowhere law must be followed. You all were responsible for damage of property. Your court date is in two months.> Cosmo explained.
“Two months??” Rocket shouted, “We’ll be dead by then! What the hell is taking so long?”
<Lots of crime on Knowhere.>
“Like that’s an excuse!” Rocket said, “You promised you’d help us. You said you thought our cause was just.”
<Cosmo did not say that, but I am believink in you. Even so, law must be followed. That is final.>
And with that last note, Cosmo left, much to Rocket’s dismay.
The raccoon, upset, collapsed into a chair with his arms crossed and muttered, “Fragging pooches.”
---GotG---
Drax the Destroyer fell against a wall, his head in his hands, tears threatening to rise to the surface of his eyes. What the hell was going on with him? He kept getting flashes of people, moments, experiences. A man…tall, strong, and bald like him. His face was so similar, and yet….
“AGHH!” Drax dropped to the ground. Why wouldn’t it stop? What was going on? Who was he???
“You are pitiful.”
Drax looked up, and barely managed to push past the pain to notice two women standing in front of him. The first, the one who’d spoken, was tall and blue-skinned with mechanical parts attached all over her body, including a whole section of her head made entirely of cybernetic plates and weapons. The second was equally tall, but nearly metal-less, with emerald green skin and beautiful long black hair. Nebula and Gamora. The prized daughters of Thanos.
Drax scratched at the ground with his nails, mumbling, “Why…why…seeing things? Girl…Heather said…?”
“You are Drax the Destroyer, the almighty Thanos’ personal assassin. Rise now or be slain where you lay,” Nebula ordered. Drax complied, but still the images surged through his mind.
Gamora, noticing his suffering, put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t fret, Drax. The woman is a psychic. She’s putting those thoughts and those images into your head. You are Drax. You are The Destroyer. You are ours.”
And as if Gamora had quite literally sucked the spell away with her touch, Drax’s doubts and memories were gone. All that was left was anger. He wanted revenge. The psychic witch had to pay for her transgressions.
“I must leave now and eliminate the witch,” Drax said, already turning away. However, he was stopped before he could go too far. A new man had arrived, standing up calmly in Drax’s way.
The man was dressed in a black jacket, pants and boots with an equally black mask and goggles covering his mouth and eyes. He had no hair, highlighting his peach-skinned head, and what could be seen of his eyes revealed a scarred, mechanical coldness to them, sending shivers down Drax’s spine. The man was dangerous; that much was obvious.
“Who are you?” Drax demanded.
“That is Blackshot,” Nebula answered.
Gamora finished, “And he is the key to our father’s plan.”
Blackshot pulled the rifle slung over his shoulder out and aimed it at Drax.
“You will not ruin Father’s plans,” Blackshot said metallically.
Drax paused, considering ripping the man limb from limb, and turned back to the others, “And what is Thanos’ plan?”
Nebula grinned, “We attack together. Quill and his outlaws will not stand a chance.”
NEXT TIME: The Annihilators vs The Guardians!