Post by Drake on Nov 28, 2014 14:02:48 GMT -5
#7: More Than Meets the Eye Part 7
The Guardians vs. The Annihilators
By Drake
Previously in Guardians of the Galaxy…
The soon-to-be Guardians of the Galaxy were arrested on the charge of destruction of property on Knowhere. Cosmo, both the Head of Security on Knowhere and a mysterious psychic canine, admitted to the outlaws that he was on their side. Elsewhere, a group of Assassins including Drax the Destroyer—who Heather believes is her father—Gamora, Nebula and the enigmatic Blackshot planned our heroes’ demise.
----
“No, no, Peter, you have to choose either rock, paper, or scissors.” Heather Douglas couldn’t help but smile at her till-now failed attempt at teaching Peter Earth games. They had tried tick tack toe but the rock they had found could not do more than create invisible marks on the ground. Eye Spy was next, but considering they were in a rather plain interrogation room waiting to be brought to probably even duller cells it wasn’t a great idea. So Heather found herself teaching Peter Rock-Paper-Scissors, much to Rocket’s amusement.
“I get that, but this hand movement?” Peter held up the universal—or rather Terran—sign for paper, “It’s offensive in three different quadrants. In the first it’s the equivalent of ‘frag you.’ In the second it means you’re going to do you-know-what with either tentacles or fingers—depending on what you have—to the other person’s…well, you get the idea. And the third? D’ast, it makes me uncomfortable just thinking about it.”
Heather laughed. It was pure, unadulterated and she couldn’t help herself. Was it strange? Maybe. They were arrested, awaiting news on their court date, and probably about to be assassinated by her brainwashed father, but something about the situation and the people around Heather made her want to laugh.
Peter stared at Heather briefly, struggling to keep himself together, before also breaking out into laughter. Groot even managed to chuckle in his own scratchy way. Rocket, on the other hand, just stared at the three of them disappointedly with his arms crossed.
“And here I thought I was done with the Loonies,” Rocket mused.
“C’mon, Rocket,” Heather nudged the ferocious furball in the chest, “Laugh a little.”
“I will not be privy to this flarnag,” Rocket said, quickly pushing Heather’s hand away and glancing at his stomach.
Heather grinned wickedly, noticing the knee-jerk reaction. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one.
“I am Groot.”
“I am not ticklish,” Rocket argued.
“Really? Prove it,” Heather stood up and began to inch towards Rocket.
“If you so much as touch me, I’ll bite your—your—stop it, hehe…I said stop it—hahaha!” Heather was furiously tickling Rocket’s chest. The cyborg tried to get away, but Groot held him down, smiling. Heather continued to do her worst to Rocket, leaving him to laugh hysterically. Tears rose to Rocket’s eyes, and before they knew it, all the outlaws were laughing again and a full-on tickling war erupted. Even Rocket joined in, as much as he wanted to hate himself for doing so.
Eventually, the tickling died down and the outlaws were all sitting in their seats again, settling down. Rocket tried to shake off his brief flash of friendliness by baring his teeth and acting as tough as possible.
“If any word of what just happened leaves this room, you all die. Hear me? All of you—dead.”
“I am Groot.”
Rocket looked at the tree-man, “Groot, I’ll make you into firewood, swear to God.”
“I am Groot!”
“Are you really telling the guy whose whole audible vocabulary is ‘I’ and ‘am’ and ‘Groot’ to not tell anyone about…well, anything?” Peter teased.
Rocket slumped back in his seat, tail tucked between his legs, “I hate all of you.”
<I am sure you do, Rocket Raccoon.> The door slid open and in trotted Cosmo with two Skrull guards at his back.
“That’s Mister Rocket Raccoon to you,” the engineer retorted.
<But…> Ignoring Rocket’s comment, Cosmo continued, <I havink good news. Your court date is set for two days from now. Is tough to pull, but I call in favors…>
Peter stood up, smiling, “Y’know, that’s a hell of a lot sooner than any date I imagined we’d get. Thank you, Cosmo, for everything you’ve done.”
<Is no problem—>
“What’s in it for you?”
Everyone in the room turned to Rocket. The rodent didn’t react, pushing on, “This ain’t normal. Why’re you helping lowlifes like us?”
“Rocket, can’t you just accept a little luck falling our way for once?” Peter argued, “This is our chance!”
<Yes, Friend Rocket, I only tryink to help,>
Heather put a hand on the cyborg’s shoulder, “Rocket…”
The outlaw shrugged Heather’s hand off and stood up, coming eye-to-eye with the cosmonaut canine. Rocket bared his teeth, growling, “What’s in it for you?”
The Skrull cops stepped between them. One raised a taser.
“Rocket, just calm down, buddy,” Peter warned.
“I am Groot.”
Rocket stepped away, but his gaze didn’t stray from Cosmo, “He employs Skrulls. Nobody good ever employs Skrulls.”
<Friend Rocket, you…>
“I never met a pooch I trusted.”
“Rocket—“
<You are correct.>
“What?” Peter exclaimed, “After all that bull, you’re telling me—“
<You can not be trustink me,> Cosmo seemed to smile, which was all too creepy to Heather. Then again, maybe it was the feeling of impending doom that was giving her the chills. She backed up, nearly tripping over her chair.
“Guys, we need to get out of here!” Heather said.
<SIT!> Cosmo psychically ordered, sending all but Groot to the ground. The tree-man stood tall, stepping between Cosmo and his friends.
“I am Groot!”
<Interestink. Is immune to my psychic commands…Too bad is too late.>
BOOM!
The outer wall to the interrogation room blew apart, rubble flying through the air. Cosmo was caught in the midst of the explosion, flying into the wall and crashing to the floor, unconscious. Groot protected the other outlaws with his arms, but caught himself on fire in the process.
Outside, as the smoke cleared, a faint red light scoped out the room before settling on Groot. Rocket noticed the light, and tried to call out to Groot, but he choked on the smoke and ended up coughing instead. A split second later, Groot shattered to pieces as another explosion rocked the room. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now. The outlaws were under attack.
“GROOT!” Rocket shouted, scrambling to catch any of the stick remains of his friend. The light settled on Rocket and the Skrull guards were on their feet now, aiming their pistols down at the rodent, but he didn’t care. Still, Heather and Peter did, and they pulled Rocket away before he could be shot, causing the cops’ two energy bullets to singe the ground and the sniper’s explosive round to crash into the floor, sending it up in flames.
“Rocket, pay some d’ast attention!” Peter dragged Rocket away, dodging another of the cops’ shots. “We may have lost Groot, but I don’t want to lose you too!”
“No! No no no no! Let me take one of ‘em! The sticks!!!” Rocket cried out, the flames engulfing the room. By now, the smoke clouded the room making it impossible for the sniper to get a clear shot, and the fire separated the cops, and the outlaws and Cosmo. Peter wouldn’t let Rocket go, even as he struggled against him.
“Groot isn’t dead!!!” Rocket shouted.
“What?” Heather exclaimed.
Peter shook his head, “He was blown to pieces! Now come on!”
“No! As long as a stick, just a little of him survives he can grow back, but if it all burns…”
Peter nodded his head, but pulled Rocket back. He made the rodent look him eye-to-eye, “I’ll go get one. You two get out of here, get our stuff, and do whatever you have to to survive.”
“Peter, no—“
“Heather, enough!” Peter ordered, “I’m calling the shots now, and you’ll do as I say. Now, get out! Go! I’ll get Groot.”
Rocket nodded, but Heather still wouldn’t leave Peter’s side. The rodent had to begin to pull her away before she’d come.
Peter was left alone in the room as it burned down around him. With one last deep breath, he jumped through the flames, miraculously managing to push through without catching fire. On the other side, he discovered the two Skrull guards on the ground, struggling to pat out fires that had exploded over them. Noticing one of their firearms on the ground, Peter grabbed it and put them out of their misery. Then, without a second to lose, he found a burning pile of Groot’s remains and grabbed a handful of sticks that had as of yet remained unsinged. Stuffing it into his jacket pocket, Peter prepared to jump back through the flames.
He would have too, if the floor hadn’t crumbled underneath him. Peter fell back and out the hole. Only then did he realize just how high up the Knowhere prison really was. He was dozens of stories away from anything resembling a ground, and more than likely when he hit it, he wasn’t going to be more than smush. In fact, Peter was so high up, he couldn’t even tell if that was a street he saw, or if people were down below him.
As if his problems weren’t bad enough, Peter had to notice the glaring red light settled on his chest. He looked up, meeting the gaze of the black clad sniper that had attacked the prison. Behind the sniper stood Gamora, someone Peter recognized all too well. If only he could’ve done more than look, but a fierce wind and gravity kept him as a sitting—or rather falling—duck.
The shot wasn’t explosive, but it hit Peter right in the chest. Lucky for him, that was a mistake the sniper would live to regret. Peter had on body armor. He always did. The Knowhere cops had frisked him, but seeing as they hadn’t imagined body armor could be used as a weapon, they let him keep it on, if only temporarily. Now, Peter had escaped the range of the sniper, already falling too far to be shot.
Then again, maybe that wasn’t a good thing. He was about to be smashed into pancake, after all. In what he imagined were his last moments, Peter didn’t think about Heather, Rocket, his possible homeworld of Earth, or even how he was going to fail Groot. No life flashed before his eyes. Instead his mind wandered to Cosmo, as he questioned whether the traitorous dog had survived the fire.
Peter tried to mutter ‘stupid bitch’ but the wind was sucked out of his lungs. Great last words, huh? A choked cough. Peter closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable end.
---GotG---
“Laser guns!!” Heather—with Rocket in tow—ducked behind a desk, hands covering her head as the ceiling shuddered and sent rubble down, “Everywhere we go—Laser guns!!!”
Rocket’s eyes widened as he peeked over the desk, “Not a laser gun!”
“What?”
“NOT A LASER GUN! GO!!” Rocket and Heather dived away just before the desk they’d been hiding behind blew to smithereens.
“Don’t stop!” Rocket pushed, leading Heather slowly but surely down the aisle of desks in what Heather could only imagine was Knowhere Security’s bullpen. “They’ve got a fragging rocket launcher!”
Surely enough, as if to prove the point, desks and chairs blew up behind them. Heather would have gasped, if she could have even breathed in the thick smoke and dust.
“This is their headquarters. Why the hell are they blowing up their own headquarters??”
“Orders from up top,” Rocket muttered.
“What?” Heather and Rocket ducked into a hallway, finally escaping the line of fire.
Rocket pointed to a room opposite them. Through a window, Heather caught sight of something that made their situation even worse. Drax and Nebula were gratefully receiving a bag from a Knowhere Kree officer. Even worse, what Heather knew was in the bag—the Element Gun!
“NO!” Heather pushed through the half-open doorway and attempted to pull the bag out of Nebula’s hands. No such luck. As if with a sixth sense, Drax turned to meet Heather and grabbed her by the throat. Holding her over the ground, the Destroyer gazed hatefully into Heather’s eyes.
“You are dead, wench!”
“Let her go!!!” Rocket stood just a few feet from the two assassins now. The Kree guard trained his firearm on the raccoon, but Nebula motioned him down, grinning wickedly.
“What have we here?” Nebula laughed mechanically, “A rodent and a weak pink skin? It really is just shameful that Gamora lost to you…”
“I…weren’t lt you wn…” Heather garbled through a near broken trachea, blood bubbling up to her mouth, choking her.
“Girl, we already have,” Nebula said.
“I swear to all that’s holy, if you hurt her any more I will kill the three of you in the most slow, intimate ways I know,” Rocket growled.
“Really? I’d like to see you try.” Nebula looked at Drax and crossed her finger over her throat.
“No…”
“Finger to the throat…” Drax gripped Heather’s neck tightly, breaking it with a resounding snap, “Means DEATH!”
“NO!!!!” Rocket leaped onto the Destroyer, but the assassin merely flicked him to the side. After tossing Heather away, Drax turned his attention to Rocket.
“May I terminate the raccoon?” He asked.
Nebula smirked, “Of course.”
<I be thinkink twice if I were you.>
All eyes turned to the source of the psychic voice: the telepathic pooch, Cosmo! His glass cosmonaut helmet cracked, and his suit singed, Cosmo couldn’t have looked more physically defeated. Luckily, his powers didn’t require physicality.
<DOWN, BOY!> Cosmo demanded, causing Drax to drop to the ground. He struggled against Cosmo’s control, but couldn’t bring himself to move.
“Dog, what is wrong with you?” Nebula tilted her head to the right questioningly, “Operative Code 1452. Stand down.”
<Cosmo thinkink not,> the dog smiled, <Chip used to control Cosmo broken in explosion. You create your own downfall. Don’t worry. Is good thing.>
<Now, SLEEP!> Cosmo growled, sending all three of the enemies into a comatose state. The dog turned to Rocket. <No have much time. Nebula bound to reboot soon with stronger psychic walls. Come.> Cosmo nudged the dumbfounded Rocket with his nose, and led him over to the bag containing the Element Gun. Rocket picked it up, and then followed Cosmo over to Heather’s broken body.
“She’s dead, pooch.” A single tear fell down Rocket’s cheek.
<She have chance. Not good chance, but chance.> Cosmo promised, before psychically ordering, <Girl, LIVE!>
Heather’s eyes shot open, and she tried—tried—to breathe, but choked on blood. Cosmo frowned, <Must be gettink her medical attention.>
“You kidding me? Her neck’s broken! No way she’s gonna make it!” Rocket looked down at the bag in his hands, “And it’s all cause ‘a this thing. Heather, Groot, probably Peter too…GOD D’AST IT ALL!” Rocket slammed the bag into the ground.
<Friend Rocket, please…>
“THIS! STUPID! THING!” Rocket punched out each word by slamming the bag into the ground. Finally, with third crash, something cracked. Rocket paused. The bag was glowing orange…or rather, something in the bag was glowing.
“What the…?”
Rocket and Cosmo were both knocked back into the wall by a burst of orange energy erupting from the Element Gun. A single orange orb rose out from the gun and burned a hole in the bag, flying into the air.
<Friend Rocket, what did you do?!>
“I don’t know…” Rocket muttered, mouth agape.
Suddenly, the gem glowed brightly and energy shot into the sky, tearing through the ceiling and bursting out into the night. The pillar of light grew, until it was nearly touching Heather’s broken body. And then as quickly as it came the light disappeared. In the midst of where the pillar had once been, standing over rubble, the glowing orange gem now resting on the ground, and the broken Element Gun was a pink-skinned woman.
Glowing brightly and dressed in red with a blue cape emblazoned with a golden star-like symbol, the woman appeared like a quasar born into humanoid form. Even more peculiar was her snow-white hair, the yellow streak tattoo over her right eye, and the glowing golden bracelets on her wrists, that seemed to be the originator of her uncanny light.
“Where am I?” The woman muttered, before her eyes settled on Rocket. Quicker than the raccoon could react, the woman was atop him, her hands at his throat.
Nearly foaming at the mouth, the woman roared, “Die, Rocket Raccoon!”