Post by Drake on Jun 22, 2015 21:13:03 GMT -5
#13: Prelude to Infinity: Rebellion Part 5
Unchanging Tides
By Drake
Previously in Guardians of the Galaxy
Rocket and Groot faced the man-god, Korvac, on a newly remade Halfworld. The fledgling deity claimed to have been the creator of the original planet and its domestic species, including Rocket. Much to the raccoon’s dismay, Korvac requested he lead the new Halfworld.
Elsewhere, Peter and the Legion of Guardians returned to Knowhere, only to discover it had been invaded by Skrulls. Luckily, Phyla Vell let loose one final attack, unleashing unbridled cosmic energy to wipe out the Skrull army. Desperate to save the Kree’s life, Peter rushed her to the hospital.
On Xandar, Heather accepted the Nova Prime’s offer and became the first ever non-Xandarian Nova Corpsman. The new alliance between Knowhere and Xandar meant that Thanos would now have to face the full might of the Nova Corps.
Back on Knowhere, the team came together after Heather flew home, Rocket and Groot denied Korvac’s request and were teleported back, and Phyla recovered from the secret invasion. However, just before, it was revealed that Peter and Beta Ray Kill were childhood friends, both deckhands for the Redfins.
Even more shocking, a Skrull Godship shot out of light speed headed straight for Knowhere…
…
<All comrades fire your missiles first, laser turrets second,> Cosmo’s psychic command echoed through the mind of every fighter pilot approaching the Godship. <It will not be easy to beat.>
Almost two dozen star ships and one Nova Corpswoman surrounded the moon-sized enemy ship. Peter Quill and the remaining Guardians of the Galaxy could only watch on from Knowhere, afraid of the worst.
<On my command…>
Gunmen locked onto the Godship.
<Three.>
Heather raised her arms up, golden energy flickering over her body.
<Two.>
Peter Quill’s eyes widened, as he realized the end was about to begin.
<One.>
”Enough with the dramatics. I only want to talk.”
The voice came through every communications system in Knowhere and the star ships, and even through Heather’s helmet. There was silence for another moment. No ships fired.
The voice returned. ”Don’t bother to doubt me. Everyone here knows that the Godship could obliterate your fleet and Knowhere in a teraclick, tops. I promise I’m only here to discuss—how shall I put it?—an alliance.”
Pause, and then, ”Oh, and I’d like my audience to solely be with the Guardians of the Galaxy. That means Heather Douglas, Phyla Vell, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, and Peter Quill.”
Peter looked at his comrades-in-arms, unsure of what to say. It was Rocket who finally spoke up.
“Cosmo, let him in—whoever the hell this is. We got no choice.”
Cosmo wasted no time to respond to the Godship’s captain, <Very well. Please, as sign of good will, come only in drone ship. Do not be dockink with Godship.>
”Of course.”
<Rebel army, be returnink to base now. Stand down. I repeat: stand down.>
…
The five self-proclaimed Guardians of the Galaxy sat around a table in the War Room, none of them bothering to speak up. Whether the silence was because of the dramatic events they had faced over the past day or the petrifying situation at hand, none of the rebels could decide. Heather shifted in her seat. The awkwardness promised to completely overtake the room.
Rocket Raccoon couldn’t have that. “Anyone read a good book recently?”
All the others—even Groot—looked at him blankly, as if they had never heard of a book before.
“Who am I kiddin’? I never read a book in my life. Why start now?” Rocket said. He hoped his comment would draw an equally sarcastic response, or a laugh. No such luck. The silence continued.
“Y’all are a bunch of idiots,” Rocket muttered.
As if to support Rocket in his attempts to obliterate the awkwardness from the atmosphere, the doors to the War Room slid open. J-Son stood facing the room, but with his head directed back at his Skrull guards.
“No, I will be fine. Please, relax. Explore the facilities. Make friends. Just don’t remain here,” the king ordered. The guards looked at one another, unsure, and then nodded. The door slid close behind J-Son as he entered the room and gave the Guardians their first good look at him.
“J-Son of Spartax…” Phyla muttered incredulously.
“What the hell is the Spartoi King doing here?” Peter wondered.
J-Son heard the fleet captain’s question and smiled inwardly, as if to a joke only he understood. Without any sarcasm, the king said, “What a wonderful way to begin the conversation, Peter. I came, first and foremost, to meet my son.”
“God dammit. Not again,” Rocket grumbled, massaging his forehead.
“Not you, Rocket,” Phyla Vell interjected. All eyes but J-Son’s focused in on the Kree. The King’s gaze only flicked to Phyla for a moment before returning to its original focus. After a few moments of silence, Peter looked at J-Son and finally realized the man was staring intently at him.
“Me?” Peter’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m your son?”
J-Son smiled widely and held his arms out, as if to embrace the star captain. To conclude, leaving no doubt, he stated proudly, “Peter, I am your father.”
…
“…and how is Daran doing?” Ronan stood in the bleak captain’s quarters of his ebony starship, the Dark Aster, huddled over a small video monitor. A voice rose up from the monitor quietly. Ronan’s lips twitched up into what almost could be described as a grin. “Wonderful. I…yes, please tell him I will be home soon. I am nearing the end of my mission.”
Ronan’s gaze suddenly darkened as the door to his quarters slid shut near silently. The monitor continued on, but while his eyes remained on the Kree woman before him, Ronan’s focus was on the assassin standing just a few feet behind him, leaning against the wall.
“I apologize. I am needed.” Ronan nodded as the monitor replied disappointedly. The Kree Accuser sighed. “I will. Goodbye.”
Ronan turned the monitor off with a click of the power switch. He scowled as he turned to face the green-skinned woman behind him.
“This better be important, Gamora. I only take thirty betaclicks of rest for myself a day,” Ronan growled.
The black-haired assassin smiled coolly, her all-white eyes glaring back at the Accuser. “That’s cute, Ronan. I never knew you had a—“
“Why are you here?” Ronan demanded.
Gamora sighed and began to pace around the room. “I have received an update from the mercenary, Kill. J-Son has arrived on Knowhere and he’s in control of Raksor’s Godship.”
“What?” Ronan exclaimed, “That’s impossible! I thought our sources told us—“
“Oh, just wait, Ronan. We haven’t gotten to the best part.” Gamora stopped in her tracks. She finished darkly, “J-Son wants to ally himself with the Rebels.”
“D’ast!” Ronan slammed his fist down atop a chair, his only personal belonging besides the video monitor in the room, cracking its stone surface. “J-Son’s a monster! If the Rebels form an alliance with him…”
“Should I have Kill move forward with the next phase of our plan?” Gamora asked.
Ronan considered the option, before shaking his head and growling gutturally. “No. They won’t trust us. Not after all we’ve done…all we’ve been forced to do.”
Ronan’s voice cracked for a moment, surprising Gamora. She had never seen him appear so weak. In just a short time, she had learned the Accuser both could lose control and had personal attachments to…well, that wasn’t the matter at the moment. They had to worry about J-Son.
Ronan looked up, his eyes worn with exhaustion. “Tell Kill to continue to hide his connection to us. We must not be discovered. If we are, it could have tragic consequences for our plans.”
…
“You see, my son, I met your mother, Meredith Quill, after crash landing onto Earth. The why’s of that matter are…not important,” J-Son began as Peter and most of the other Guardians looked on, either surprised or engaged in the story. Rocket, on the other hand, merely rested with his head down atop the table, grumbling obscenities.
“She nursed me back to health, and we quickly fell in love. Throughout that time, nearly a whole year in your Earth calendar, I rebuilt my ship, and…and the day came in which I had to leave. What I didn’t know at that time was your mother was pregnant with you.”
“Eventually, after returning to Spartax, I discovered what exactly I had left behind on Earth. I was already devastated, guilty, and had long since sworn to bring your mother to me, but when I learnt of you I immediately sent mercenaries—pirates, the Redfins—to retrieve you.”
Peter’s jaw dropped. He had always been told the Redfins had just found him on a Kree moon. Hell, it was what they had told everybody else too. Peter could still remember what the old shopkeeper, Quid, had said: “You’re the freak kid Yondu picked up on that Kree moon.” And then he’d finished with the zinger—“You always looked a little Spartoi.”* [see end of issue for more details on this.]
“My father…” Peter whispered to himself as J-Son continued.
“The Redfins arrived just in time. The Brotherhood of the Badoon had attacked you in an attempt to wipe out my lineage. Amidst the fray, your mother was murdered. The Redfins had no choice but to leave with you before you were killed as well. However, something happened, and for whatever reason the pirates ignored my orders and kept you,” J-Son told this part of the story with an edge, both saddened and enraged at the same time.
“I tried to find you, but…” J-Son sighed, “I’m sorry, Peter. I failed you and your mother. However, I am here now, and I would like your help to…to defeat Thanos and save the galaxy.”
Overwhelmed by emotions and thoughts, Peter Quill could do nothing but lean back in his chair and laugh. The others seemed more shocked by his reaction than the story or proposal.
“Great. Peter’s officially reached Loony level crazy,” Rocket muttered.
“Peter…?” Heather started worriedly.
Peter suddenly jerked his head back upright, his laughter finished. “J-Son, could you let us speak in private for a moment?”
The King nodded, “Of course.”
Once his father had left the room, Peter crossed his arms and grinned wildly. “So….that happened.”
…
Beta Ray Kill hurried through the hallways of Knowhere’s capital. His beady eyes were dim, dark, carrying the pain of half a lifetime. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—let the Guardians ally themselves with J-Son. Not on his life…
The Korbinite glanced to his right as he passed the Passport System. It had been patched up so no one could get dragged out into the vacuum of space, but he figured it wouldn’t be under reconstruction anytime soon. Knowhere did not have the funds nor the manpower to rebuild the Passport System, no matter its importance.
As he turned his attention back to the matter at hand, to the War Room at the end of the hall, Kill noticed the man himself, J-Son, was waiting patiently outside the door.
Kill’s eyes widened and instinct drove him to reach for his pistol, but it wasn’t on him. The security force had demanded they confiscate all of his weapons as long as he wasn’t in battle. Even now, desperate and weak, they still would not trust him.
J-Son eyed the Korbinite warily. “…Hello.”
“You bastard,” Kill growled under his breath, “Trying to play Peter after all you…”
J-Son asked the obvious question, “Do I know you?”
…
”By the Celestials…”
An adolescent Beta Ray Kill and Peter Quill looked out from behind ammunition boxes at the horrifying scene before them: a complete and total massacre. The victims? The entire Redfin crew. Even Yondu lay in the pile of corpses, his famous red mohawk dyed darker crimson with blood.
The murderers themselves stood away in squads. Some checked the bodies to see if there had been any survivors. Other packed together and discussed the matter at hand. Each one was wearing golden armor, held crimson laser rifles, and stood at least a head below the two young pirate survivors.
“You find the Prince in the Bladebleeder?” one of the murderers asked another who had just arrived.
“The crew’s ship was empty. I told the Commander we shouldn’t have eliminated them all. One of them would’ve talked,” the other soldier replied.
“Well, the royal-kin has to be around here somewhere.” The soldier turned around, looking right in the direction of the two young deckhands. Kill ducked and dragged Peter to the ground with him. “It’s a small colony. The boy can’t have gone far.”
The two remaining Redfins huffed quietly and stared at one another, their eyes wide with terror.
“Those bastards are…” Peter began.
“Spartoi,” Kill finished with a nod. “We gotta get outta here. I don’t know what prince they’re talking about, but it can’t be good for us.”
“But, Bill—“
“Seems like they don’t know ‘bout the Milano. God bless Cap’n’s paranoia. Two ships paid off for once.” Kill continued, “Le’s go.”
“Bill—“
“Peter,” Kill crawled up onto one knee and held his hand out to the terrified pink-skinned boy. “I’ll protect you. We’re brothers. Wha’s Cap’n always say? ‘Family takes care of one another.’”
Peter froze for only a moment before he took Kill’s hand. The two scurried off, and eventually made their way off the planet in the Milano as the last two survivors of the Redfins…
…
A year and a half later, the two boys continued to survive by doing what they did best: stealing.
“Break for it! Got Spartfrags right behind me,” Kill shouted into a comms piece in his ear as he pushed a waste container between him and the Spartoi military officers just behind him. The young Korbinite had a bag slung over his shoulder, full of weapons that were all-too-illegally acquired. The Spartoi were naturally none too pleased with his possession of said weapons.
“I’ve almost got the shipment. Give me just a few more minutes,” Peter whispered over the line. The young pink skin peaked out from the doors of an enormous moving hovercraft. He was hidden amidst a pile of boxes full of military tech; high-grade weapons that would sell for a year’s worth of food apiece.
“I need Milago now, Peter!” Kill demanded. “They’re going to fragging get me!”
“Really, Bill? You’re gonna let a bunch of dwarfs outrun you?” Peter teased.
“No…” Kill ducked into a building. He pushed his way past pedestrian after pedestrian, forcing his way into the stairwell. “I’m not going to ‘let them’ do anything. They’re just going to shoot me, you d’ast idiot!”
“C’mon, just last a little longer,” Peter begged as the hovercraft slowed down. “I’m almost done.”
The brunet slid out from the vehicle after it stopped. He checked left, then right. Nobody had exited the vehicle yet. It turned out they were at a checkpoint.
Peter quickly produced two objects from his crimson jacket: the first a metallic orb, and the other a copper disc. Peter held the disc up to his face so its glowing orange core was facing the shipment. He clicked a button, and the disc burned the image into its database. The thief then proceeded to activate the orb, which instantly absorbed all of the craft’s boxes. In its place, Peter left the disc, which quickly produced a hologram of the shipment.
“Peter!” Kill ran out onto a rooftop. He had no escape, no other buildings to leap to. “I’m trapped!!’
“Think happy thoughts. We’re going to be rich!” Peter pocketed the orb and jogged off, making sure not to be seen.
Kill turned around, facing the way he’d come. Out of the door sprinted four Spartoi soldiers, guns at the ready.
“Peter, I want you to know…” Kill began.
“Shut it, Bill.” Peter, a safe distance from the checkpoint now, pulled out a tiny stick-shaped device from his pocket and clicked its end. Milago slowly became visible under the two-moon night sky. The ship’s hatch opened up and Peter ran in.
“Don’t come,” Kill looked back. Aerial ships hovered all around him.
“Get on the ground!” A Spartoi officer roared.
“Celestials, I don’t want to die…” Kill moaned, putting his hands behind his head and kneeling on the ground.
“Bill…” Peter began.
“Leave me, Peter. Take care of yourself,” Kill whispered. The officers approached him. Not one of the soldiers holstered their rifles.
BANG!
“BILL!” Peter cried out from Milago’s pilot chair. Tears slid down over his cheeks as the other end of the line remained quiet.
“Peter, what would you have me do?” Milago asked.
The adolescent considered his options for a moment. He tightened his hands into fists and slammed them onto the pilot console, roaring with anger.
“Peter…?”
“Leave! Get off world!!” Peter sobbed.
“…As you wish,” Milago agreed, setting course for a distant planet.
Peter slipped off his seat and curled up into a ball. Even as his sobs echoed through the ship, panic and sorrow were slowly replaced by cold anger. When the boy next looked up, his eyes bled ferocity. He was no longer prey, but predator.
…
“RraahHH!!” Kill charged J-Son, but froze as nearly as quickly as he started his rampage. The Spartoi King’s eyes flashed purple and the Infinity Gauntlet misted onto his hand. The mercenary’s own irises slowly lightened from black to a cool indigo.
“Pathetic, all of you,” J-Son observed the man for a moment. He sighed and straightened up further, looking Kill in the eyes. “Go to your quarters. Await further commands.”
Kill nodded blankly and marched off. J-Son smirked.
“It’s good to be King…”
…
A short time later, the door to the War Room slid open and out walked Peter Quill, a scowl etched over his face. J-Son frowned at the sight of his son’s obvious frustration. The King of Spartax had waited for nearly half an hour, and if there was not good news…
Peter scratched the back of his head and looked down at the ground as he spoke. “We’ve come to a consensus.”
J-Son didn’t reply. Peter glanced at his father and then back at the floor.
“Yeah, the news isn’t good…” Peter’s lips slowly curled up into a smile. He met his father’s gaze with a bright expression. “It’s great! We’re in!”
J-Son’s face brightened and he clasped his hands behind his back. “Wonderful. We should go discuss our—excuse me, your—decision with—“
Suddenly, Peter slugged his father. The King of Spartax slumped to the ground, dazed and confused.
“Peter, what…”
“Thank God for Phyla Vell.” Peter kneeled down and reached over J-Son’s right hand. He quickly felt his way around it until he found what he was looking for and pulled back. The Infinity Gauntlet appeared as it was drawn off the king’s hand.
“What…?” J-Son mumbled, still seeing far too many stars to understand.
Peter smirked down at his father and waved the Gauntlet in his face. “Her Quantum Bands are related to this thing in some weird ass, creepy, ancient cosmic voodoo way. She felt your Gauntlet, and knew something was up. Between that and the fact that you’re kind of a well known scum bag, even in the future, she could tell, y’know…” Peter shrugged, “Point is, you were screwed from the get go.”
“Pe—“
“Nighty night, Dad.” Peter kicked J-Son to sweet dreams.
The guardian of the galaxy turned back around to the opening to the War Room and to the four people standing there, waiting. Phyla flashed a proud smile. Heather patted her on the back, which only made the woman from the future even happier. Groot grinned at Peter. Rocket merely crossed his arms and spat on the ground by J-Son.
Peter’s lips twisted up into a toothy grin. “C’mon, high fives all around.”
…
The five Guardians of the Galaxy strode through Knowhere’s halls to the lower levels. Groot lugged the unconscious J-Son over his shoulder. Phyla Vell wore the Infinity Gauntlet over her right hand. The unusual behavior drew the gaze of everyone they passed. Soon enough, the psychic, Russian-accented voice of Cosmo rang through their heads.
<Your plan is risky. Cosmo not sure if…>
<Relax. I can handle this.> Phyla’s near immediate, independent psychic response shocked the dog into silence for a moment.
<How is comrade Phyla usink telepathy without help of Cosmo?> the dog wondered.
Phyla smirked. <Read my mind.>
<Oh…oh God. That is strongest psychic force Cosmo has ever felt.>
<The Mind Stone, one of seven parts that make up the Infinity Gauntlet, the strongest of all the Seven Wonders of the Galaxy,> Phyla explained. The Guardians reached a window overlooking the Skrull Godship, which was rather quickly approaching Knowhere. <Speaking of, I have to take control here.>
Phyla lifted her right gauntleted hand into the air and the purple Mind Stone lit up like a light on a Christmas tree. Indigo energy surged through the Kree’s body until it reached her eyes, which quickly changed color to match the stone. Suddenly, the Skrull Godship stopped moving forward, and in fact began to turn around.
“We put the Gauntlet in the right hands,” Peter clapped Phyla on the back. “And damn, do we make great plans.”
Rocket frowned, “Can we stop blowing ourselves and get to the explaining already? The others are bound to be pissin’ their miniskirts.”
“I am Groot.”
“Too far, Groot, too far. Here’s the line,” Rocket held up his right hand and then moved his left to cross past it. “And here’s where you are.”
“Rocket has a point,” Heather said while shaking her head at the two anthropomorphic beings bickering. “For once.”
Peter nodded and looked at Phyla. “You do the honors.”
Phyla chuckled. “I’m the only one that can.” She raised the gauntlet into the air, and her psychic voice echoed over Knowhere.
<Greetings, rebels of Knowhere. This is Phyla Vell. I would like to announce…> Phyla looked at the other Guardians one-by-one, her smile growing with each passing second, <That victory is within our grasp. We—being the Guardians of the Galaxy—“
“Surprise, surprise,” Rocket mumbled.
“Have secured not only the Infinity Gauntlet and the Mind Stone, but also the undying loyalty of the Skrull fleet currently positioned outside our boundaries. With all that said…>
Cheers began to rise up from every floor on Knowhere. Even Rocket could not help but smile. Phyla paused to give Peter a questioning look. He nodded.
<Let’s party!>
…
Although victory had not yet been achieved, the sweet taste of success drove all of the rebels a little mad. Fighting a losing war only to have the tides turn so quickly flipped solemn gloom to unbridled euphoria. Even the potential threats that loomed so close were no bother. J-Son had been stored in a holding cell and the Skrulls were caught under the iron hand of the Mind Stone.
Amidst the lower floors a party had broken out. The Guardians remained partly separated, but happy nonetheless.
Rocket chugged down straight Kree whisky—his fourth cup—in a drinking contest with Phyla Vell as Groot watched on. Soon, it became five, then six, then seven cups of whiskey. Rocket began to slow down, but Phyla kept going strong. The raccoon stopped altogether for a moment to look at his comrade frustratedly.
“Is not fair…” Rocket slurred, “She’s Kree.”
He tried to wave his arm at the woman to prove his point, but ended up losing his balance and falling out of his chair. Immediately upon hitting the ground, he dozed off. People of all races standing around the contest cheered. Phyla downed one last drink before sitting back, smiling proudly, and burping. More cheers erupted from the audience.
Groot fist bumped Phyla. “I am Groot.”
“Don’t I know it,” Phyla laughed.
Elsewhere, Heather and Quie told stories and laughed in a corner of the party, drinks in their hands.
“So, Yinuet had to promise the guy—Skwa—he’d clean his uniform. You should’ve seen his face. It was like…”
Quie tried to impersonate her commanding officer’s ‘angry face’ but failed horribly, partly due to her drunken state. Heather laughed nonetheless. Quie soon joined in. The two locked eyes for a moment and Quie leaned in. Heather’s eyes widened and she backed up.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Quie. I just…with all that’s going on…” Heather blushed and Quie quickly did the same.
“I’m sorry,” Quie began, standing up, “I—I thought…”
“You’re really nice, and pretty, and great. I just can’t be in a relationship right now with the war, my father, and the Nova Corps,” Heather explained. She grabbed Quie’s arm before the woman could go. “Don’t leave. Let’s just…be friends for now, okay?”
Quie froze for a moment, but when she looked Heather in the eyes she couldn’t help but nod. She sat back down.
“Okay. It’s a deal.” Quie smiled. “Now, to start off this friendship, you have to tell me another story about Rocket. That little hairy beast is hilarious!”
Heather beamed upon seeing the Centaurian’s peace with the rejection. She paused to consider for a moment. “I can’t think of…oh, yes. I have a great one. You see, on Earth we have this tradition about the day you’re born…”
In the middle of the party, amidst an open dance floor, Peter was showing a couple purple-skinned women and Beta Ray Kill the Earth dance moves Heather had taught him.
“What I’m about to show you is the holiest of all arts. At the hands of the geniuses from my homeland of Earth, the greatest dance move of all time was created…” Peter suddenly turned around, bent over and stuck his behind in the women’s faces. He proceeded to shake it like there was no tomorrow. “I present the TWERK!”
The women’s reaction was instantaneous. They gagged, looked at one another, shook their heads and walked away. Kill patted Peter on the back and pointed out his loss.
“I think you scared them away,” Kill said.
Peter straightened up, “What? But Heather said…”
“That was scarring, Peter.” Kill pointed back to the girls, who were now flirting with Groot. “As if they weren’t proof enough. Don’t ever do that again.”
Peter sighed, but flicked a switch again and brightened up. “All right, Beta Ray Kill.”
“Hey, it’s edgy, and girls totally love it,” Kill shot back.
“Right, whatever you say…” Peter teased.
Kill crossed his arms, “Frag you. It’s not like ‘Bill’ was any better.”
“Yeah, but it screamed ‘I’m broody and faux-tough’ far less,” Peter retorted.
Kill’s expression darkened. “If your father hadn’t…”
“Don’t bring him into this!”
“Well, if he—“
“No! If you want to take up his shit with anyone, talk to him!” Peter shouted. A few people around them began to watch the two warily.
“You know what, frag you! I’m out of here!” Kill said. He turned away and began to push his way through the crowd.
Peter watched him go for a moment, before sighing with frustration and running up to Kill. “Hey, Bill…”
As soon as Peter’s hand touched Kill’s arm, the merc swiveled around and slugged the half-Terran. Peter fell to the ground and held his hand over his bruising cheek for a moment in shock before standing up and tackling Kill. A crowd formed around the two as punches were thrown left and right.
“You have no right—“ Kill began.
“Why are you such an ass??” Peter roared.
The fight ended as soon as it began. Groot pulled Peter off Kill and forced him back. Yinuet dragged the merc off the ground and held him in a standing full nelson.
“Let me go! LET ME GO!!” Kill cried out.
“Settle down, friend,” Yinuet said.
“I am Groot,” the tree-man told his comrade.
Tears began to force their way out of Peter’s eyes, much to his dismay. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry, Bill!! For everything! Can’t you see how much it tears me up to think that—“
“SHUT UP!!” Kill roared. “You have no right to be upset! Do you know what happened to me after I was arrested? YOUR D’AST FATHER FRAGGING TORTURED ME!! FOR YEARS!!!”
Peter’s eyes widened in shock.
“Please…” Yinuet begged.
“FRAG YOU, QUILL! FRAG YOUR WHOLE FAMILY, YOU COWARD!!” Kill shouted. “If you weren’t alive, Yondu wouldn’t have died, and I—“
Yinuet hit Kill over the head, knocking him out, and let the man fall to the ground. Groot let Peter go, and the star captain immediately rushed to his former friend’s side. Peter leaned down over the unconscious Korbinite’s chest and sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, Bill…” Peter slammed his fist into the ground beside Kill’s head. “God damn it!! I’m so sorry…”
…
Later
On one of the upper floor of Knowhere, far into the cellblock in Security’s headquarters, J-Son sat with his arms resting on his knees, his gaze dark. He remained quiet and unmoving, his breathing steady. The door to the cellblock opened up with a clank and the king’s head shot up.
Peter Quill walked briskly to his father’s cell. The star captain’s eyes were red and puffy, and he didn’t even bother to try to hide that fact as he stood in front of J-Son.
The King of Spartax smiled and stood upon seeing his child. “Son….”
“Don’t call me that,” Peter growled, “In fact, don’t talk. I just wanted—no, needed—to come up here.”
Peter tightened his hands into fists and glared coolly at his father. “I want you to know that you’re never going to leave this cell.” J-Son frowned. “You’ve done nothing to make my life better; in fact, you’ve made it worse, time and time again. But even more than that, ignoring all the shit you’ve put me through, you’re just a really bad person. I’ll see to it that you never see the light of day again.”
“Peter,” J-Son suddenly grabbed ahold of the bars on his cell, causing Peter to flinch. Gone was the face of a man in control. Rage plagued the King’s eyes. “I want you to understand that we could have been the most powerful men in the universe. We could have saved the d’ast galaxy—we could have ruled it! Together, as father and son, King and Star-Lord, nothing would have been impossible. But now—now you’ve squandered that opportunity! You are ruined, Peter!! Thanos will—“
“Shut up already,” Peter interrupted, silencing his father. “God, you’re so stereotypical.” He shook his head. “And I almost believed you actually cared about me…”
“What…but—“
“When you first showed up and told me your story, I thought…” Peter sighed, “Never mind. Rot in hell, asshole.”
“Peter, please, wait--!” J-Son cried out as Peter began to walk away, “Please! You can still be my Star-Lord! Just come back here and—“
“Fuck you, Dad,” Peter flipped J-Son off with both hands without even turning back to look at his father.
Peter never stopped as he left the facility and closed the door behind him. However, something his father had said did catch his attention.
“Star-Lord…” Peter considered the name, his lips curled up into a half-smile. “Not bad.”
…
The Far Outreaches of Space
Corvus Glaive sunk up the steps to his master’s side, a crooked, long-worn smile planted on his face. Thanos the Mad Titan had his hands clasped behind his back, and remained standing in place, staring out over the cosmos—his oldest of habits.
“The Voice Never Heard sends good tidings from Knowhere, Master. J-Son was taken hostage, and the Gauntlet is in the hands of the rebels,” Corvus explained, bowing.
”Then the final phase of my plan can begin,” Thanos turned to his servant and smiled coolly. ”To think J-Son ever believed he had you in his grasp. It’s absurd.”
“Shall I send word to your agents?” Corvus wondered.
Thanos shook his head drearily and looked back out over space. ”No. The deed is done. I perceived the success of my plan and have already set the next phase in motion.”
A starship burst out of warp speed and appeared at the edge of Corvus’ vision. The man-servant nodded knowingly.
“The Annihilators have arrived.”
”And the secret army has been summoned as well.” Thanos raised his left hand into the air, and a golden gauntlet shimmered to life on it, a crimson stone placed in one of six indentions in its armor. ”The second Gauntlet is mine, along with the Power Stone. My agents have located the remaining three Infinity Stones, and the…distraction is already underway.”
…
On the Kree home world of Hala, a black-clad sniper crouched into position, hidden behind a statue of his very target. With his rifle in place, Blackshot looked through its scope, aiming at a being dozens of miles away. The benefits of working for the most powerful man in the galaxy included using the best tech in the cosmos.
Blackshot’s finger inched forward over the trigger as the assassin eyed his target: an enormous green face with two glowing yellow eyes, aka the most intelligent being in the Kree Empire, aka the Supreme Intelligence.
Now, the Supreme Intelligence’s protective shield could stop any lethal blow from being executed by most bullets, but Blackshot’s ammunition wasn’t ‘most bullets.’
“Say hello to my little friend,” Blackshot impersonated the Terran movie mobster, Tony Montana.
BANG!
…
“And the remaining Infinity Stones?” Corvus asked.
Thanos’ lips flicked up into a sly, toothy grin. ”One waits for me on the other side of the galaxy, just outside the Spartoi Empire. One rests inside the head of a self-righteous preacher. The final Stone, well…”
“The final Infinity Stone is on a little planet called Earth.”