by Chris Wyatt
Groot held his hand up and out to Peter.
“You… you want me to give you a high-five?” asked Peter.
Peter tried to meet the alien’s palm, but Groot quickly grabbed his face and shook it around a bit, bellowing a laugh that sounded like a seal.
“Hey! What?!” protested Peter. “Stop it, man!”
Groot let him go but chuckled a little more under his breath as he lumbered away.
“That’s not cool!” Peter shouted after the departing Groot. “It didn’t even make sense. You have a weird sense of humor!”
Now alone on the bridge of his ship, Peter slumped into the pilot’s chair. “Yeah, this is a great group I’ve stumbled into,” he muttered to himself. “Just great.”
Soon after the Milano’s escape, Ronan’s ship, the Dark Aster, attacked Kyln station. Already damaged from the riot and short on staff, the station didn’t have adequate defenses to fight against Ronan’s assault. His forces tore through the walls like they were made out of paper and had both the inmates and the guards under control before a distress call could even be sent out.
As Ronan strode through the station, he was flooded with memories. When he was younger, the Nova Corps had arrested him for carrying out a justified retribution on a small planet—a planet so weak that it didn’t deserve to exist. The Nova Corps had sent him here, to Kyln. He had been held in this very station, slept in one of these very cells.
It was here that he had met the Exolon monks who taught him that “strength” is the only truth… and that it is a sin not to use it. It was here that Ronan discovered his dark destiny—to crush the universe under his might.
As Ronan reminisced, Nebula approached him. “The Nova Corps have sent a fleet to defend the prison. It should be here shortly.”
“And Gamora?” asked Ronan.
“Gone,” Nebula replied reluctantly, bowing her head.
“Send the Necrocraft to every corner of the quadrant,” commanded Ronan, his anger rising. “Find the Orb. At any price. By any means.”
Nebula bowed again, acknowledging Ronan’s will. “And… this place?” she asked.
“The Nova Corps can’t learn what we’re searching for,” said Ronan. “Cleanse it. Leave nothing behind.”
On the deck of the Milano, Peter asked Gamora, “What destination should I chart for us in the ship’s computer?”
“Knowhere,” Gamora replied.
“Nowhere?” Wasn’t the plan to go find this big buyer of hers, the one who would pay so much for the Orb?
“No, not ‘nowhere’,” signed an exasperated Gamora. “Knowhere.”
Half a day later, in the depths of space, in the middle of nowhere, they finally arrived at Knowhere.
It was a space colony like no other Peter had ever seen—the size of a large meteor, but in the shape of a giant skull.
“Uh… what is this?” he asked Gamora.
“It’s the severed head of an ancient celestial being,” Gamora reported matter-of-factly, as if this were the most normal information in the galaxy.
“I hope whatever cut it off isn’t still around,” quipped Peter as he steered the ship through one of the giant skull’s eye sockets, which was used as the space dock. “Heads up. We’re going in!” he called.
Flying inside, Peter saw colorful shacks built into the bone walls. Miners flying single-person space pods were drilling into spots around the skull, extracting what looked like a yellow viscous fluid.
“Hundred of years ago, workers were sent in to mine the organic matter left in the skull,” explained Gamora. “Brain tissue, spinal fluid. It’s dangerous, illegal work suitable only for outlaws.”
“Then I should be at home here,” claimed Peter. “I’m from a planet of outlaws. Billy the Kid, Bonnie and Clyde…”
“Sounds like a place I’d like to visit,” said Drax, joining them on deck.
“Cool,” replied Peter.
“Visit, and then battle!” continued Drax, excited at the idea of combat.
Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled into a parking area.
Once Peter stopped the Milano and paid an outrageously high docking fee, everyone unloaded from the ship. They walked through the streets of what would have been a typical small mining town, if it weren’t for the surreal fact that it was built inside a giant dead alien’s head.
Getting to Gamora’s buyer was taking longer than they expected, since whenever the group came across children, Groot would stop and sprout flowers for them. This delighted the kids but annoyed his fellow travelers, who would just as soon get the sale over with so they could get out of here, split their earnings, and never see each other again.
“So, where is this buyer of yours?” Rocket asked Gamora.
But before she could answer, Peter saw something that alarmed him. He quickly shoved the others into an alleyway and peeked out.
Yondu and a few of the other Ravagers were across the street.
“Spread out,” the leader told his men. “Find Quill. Remember, he might be calling himself Star-Lord.” The others did as they were told and scattered themselves among the crowd.
Yondu had recently visited the Broker on Xandar. It hadn’t taken much threatening for Yondu to discover the location of the person looking to buy the Orb. Peter would have to come here if he wanted to sell that thing, which meant that all Yondu had to do was sit and wait. Sooner or later that ungrateful traitor would come to him.
“Where did the Broker say this buyer was located?” Yondu asked his second in command.
“The Broker said the place was kind of hidden,” the other Ravager explained.
Peter ducked as Yondu and his companion walked right by the mouth of the alley where he was hiding. After Yondu passed, Peter stuck his head back out and looked. They were gone—for now. Relieved, he looked back at his companions, only to see them staring at him.
“Friend of yours?” asked Gamora.
“Not exactly,” admitted Peter.
On the lookout for more Ravagers, the team followed Gamora to a run-down miner’s club called the Boot of Jemiah. The place seemed a lot like the people inside: loud, ugly, and smelly.
“Your buyer’s in here?” asked Peter, surprised that someone with enough cash to pay for the Orb would hang out in such a low-rent establishment.
“No, my buyer owns this place,” Gamora explained as they stepped inside.
Drax looked around. “What shall we do while we wait?” he asked.
“Oh,” said Rocket, a smile crossing his face, “I bet we can think of something.”
Within minutes, Rocket had shown Groot and Drax the small track where Orloni races were held. The Orloni, small, ratlike rodents, raced down a track to escape a hungry frog-beast called a F’Saki. Rocket loved Orloni races, and the competition naturally appealed to Drax.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Gamora and Peter sat at a table.
“My connection is really making us wait,” Gamora complained.
“That’s a negotiation thing,” explained Peter. “Nobody wants to seem desperate. I’ve done lots of deals. Your thing is more just: ‘Stab, stab, stab… Those are my terms!’ ”
“My ‘father’ didn’t stress diplomacy,” Gamora explained simply.
“By ‘father,’ you mean Thanos?” asked Peter.
Gamora nodded. “Once, after he had kidnapped me, I asked, ‘Why?’… But there was no ‘why.’ The strong devour the weak. That’s how he sees the universe.”
Peter got a look in his eye like he understood. “That guy we were hiding from before? Yondu? Similar vibe. When he took me from Earth, he drilled it in my head: Nice guys finish dead.”
Gamora looked at Peter almost like she was seeing him for the first time. “So we both turned against the men who raised us.”
Peter shook his head kind of sadly. “No,” he said. “I didn’t turn against Yondu… I turned into him.” He stopped for a moment, contemplating this, then continued by asking, “How come you flipped?”
“My family taught me to believe in strength, and I do,” said Gamora. “But we just have different ideas of what strength is.”
Peter nodded, understanding. Were they actually bonding here?
“And what’s this?” Gamora asked, pointing to the headphones sticking out of Peter’s pocket. Peter pulled them out.
“My mother’s music,” he explained. “She loved to share her music with me. I just happened to have it on me when she… I mean, when I left Earth.”
Peter slipped the headphones over Gamora’s ears and hit play. She cocked her head, listening to a slow jam.
“What… what do you do with it?” Gamora asked.
“Do? With music?” replied Peter. “Nothing. You listen to it. You dance.”
“I am a warrior and an assassin,” stated Gamora flatly, talking a little too loudly with the headphones going in her ears. “I do not dance.”
“You can dance,” assured Peter. “I’ve seen you fight. Dancing is all about rhythm and flow. You just have to leave out the hurting people.”
Peter stood up, pulling her with him. He took her arms and showed her how to move. “Like this,” he said. They started dancing. Gamora was clearly amazed at what she was allowing herself to do.
“What’s the point of this?” she asked, but she didn’t stop moving.
“There isn’t one,” Peter admitted.
At that moment there was a sudden crash from across the club. Peter and Gamora turned to see Rocket, Groot, and Drax in the middle of a fight at the Orloni table.
They broke off from their dance and ran to help.
Peter and Gamora sprinted for the Orloni table and pulled the fighting Drax and Rocket apart. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What’re you doing?” asked Peter.
“This vermin laid hands on me!” shouted Drax, as Gamora held him back.
“That is true!” confirmed Rocket.
“He has no respect!” Drax shouted even louder.
“That is also true! He keeps calling me ‘vermin,’ ” Rocket complained. “He thinks I’m some stupid thing! Well, I didn’t ask to get made!”
Peter tried to calm him down. “No one thinks you’re a—”
But Rocket pushed Peter off. “He called me ‘vermin’! She called me ‘rodent’!”
Gamora was taken aback. “Rocket, my intent was not malicious.”
But Rocket ignored her and threatened Drax.
“Let’s see if you can still laugh after I finish with you!”
Peter jumped between the two of them. “Four billion units, Rocket! Suck it up for one more lousy night and you’re rich!”
That got Rocket’s attention. He took a deep breath and looked around at all of them. “Fine.…”
While Rocket had calmed down somewhat, Drax was still enraged. He broke free of Gamora and headed for the exit. “We have traveled halfway across the quadrant and all I have done is quarrel with wildlife,” complained Drax as he left. “Ronan is no closer to paying for his crimes!”
And with that, Drax walked outside, leaving Peter to call after him.
“Let him go. We don’t need him,” said Gamora to Peter.
“We? You got a mouse in your pocket?” said Peter, growing sick of this partnership. “You guys better find a ride home, because the minute we get what we came for, I don’t want to see any of you maniacs again.”
Groot, who had been lurking nearby during all the shouting, stepped forward and asked, “I am Groot?”
“Yes,” confirmed Peter, “you’re also a maniac!” But then he realized what had just happened. “I think I just spoke Groot. It’s disturbing.”
At that moment, a hidden panel in one of the club’s walls opened up, and a small female stepped forward, addressing Gamora. “Milady, I am Carina. I am here to fetch you for my master.”
Gamora, Peter, Groot, and Rocket looked at one another. Finally, it was go time. They followed Carina through a secret passage into a dark tunnel. After some distance, the tunnel opened up into a large room lined with glass cages. The cages were filled with animals, plants, and other life forms that were less easily classified.
Peter gave off a low whistle as he looked through a window into a hallway. This combination zoo-museum went on for as far as his eye could see. It seemed to stretch on forever.
Carina led the group onward to an examination bay while explaining, “We house the galaxy’s largest collection of fauna, relics, and species of all manner.”
An odd-looking white-haired man entered from the back of the lab. Carina introduced him: “I present to you Taneleer Tivan. He is known as the Collector.”
The Collector stepped forward, “Ah! My dear Gamora. Finally we meet… in the flesh.”
“Let’s bypass the formalities, Tivan,” Gamora spat out impatiently. “We have the item we discussed.” She pulled out the Orb and showed it to him.
The Collector glanced at the Orb and then looked away, seeing Groot. “Oh that… My, what do we have here?”
“I am Groot,” Groot explained, a little miffed by the question.
“A Groot! Fascinating,” exclaimed the Collector, excited. “You must allow me to pay you a small fee now so that I may own your carcass at the moment of your death.”
Groot shrugged.
The Collector smiled, pleased, and then moved his attention to Rocket. “And what is this little beast? Is this its pet?”
“It’s what?!?” shouted Rocket.
Seeing where this was likely to go, Gamora interrupted. “Tivan, we’ve been halfway around the galaxy retrieving this Orb.”
“Well then, let us see what you’ve brought,” said the Collector, taking the Orb and placing it onto an examination table. After a moment spent carefully looking it over, the Collector smiled. “Yes… this is authentic,” pronounced the Collector.
“An authentic what?” asked Peter.
“An ancient source of great power,” said the Collector casually. “Does it matter?”
“Not as long as you pay what you promised,” said Gamora, cutting Peter off.
“Of course,” said the Collector, using a special device to open the Orb slightly so that he, and only he, could peer inside. “I have not become the universe’s foremost collector of rare items by reneging on my—”
Suddenly Carina rushed forward and reached for the Orb. “I will be your servant no more!” she shouted. She had been watching and waiting for a moment such as this. For years she’d suffered under the cruel hand of the Collector, who badly mistreated her and her fellow servants. She had heard the Collector talking about this Orb and the power that it held, and she was convinced that if she could hold such power in her hand, she would be able to free herself from her cruel master.
But, unfortunately for Carina, she didn’t understand the nature of that power.
“Carina, no!” shouted the Collector… but it was too late.
The second Carina touched the Orb, her whole body convulsed! Her eyes bulged and turned black, her face distorted with energy. A harsh white glow came out from inside of her body.
Almost instinctively, Groot grabbed Rocket and ran back down the tunnel, away from whatever was going to happen. At the same moment, Gamora grabbed Peter, dragging him down to the ground for cover. Barely a heartbeat later, there was a pulse of bright white light!
The sheer force of the explosion blasted all of the glass cages, every item the Collector had assembled.
The Collector wailed as he saw this. “My life’s work!” he screamed moments before a flying piece of scrap metal hit him and knocked him out.
Gamora and Peter, now that the explosion was over, pulled themselves back up. They looked around, seeing everything destroyed.
“I was a fool!” shouted Gamora. “How could I think Tivan could contain whatever was within the Orb? I was blinded by my own selfish desires.” She grabbed the Orb, and the pair made their way through the tunnel to join Groot and Rocket back in the club.
As soon as they walked out of the sec
ret passage, Rocket spied the Orb in her hand and started freaking out. “What do you still have it for?” he asked incredulously.
“What are we going to do?” Peter responded. “Leave it there?”
“We must bring this to the Nova Corps. There’s a chance they can contain it,” Gamora explained.
Rocket’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me? We’re wanted by the Nova Corps. Just give it to Ronan!”
“We cannot allow the Orb to fall into Ronan’s hands,” said Gamora. “After all he’s done, after all I helped him to do! We must go back to your ship and deliver it to Nova officers!” Gamora walked out of the club.
“Or we bring it to someone who’s not going to arrest us,” Peter suggested as he and Rocket followed Gamora. “Someone with a whole lot of money.”
The second the trio walked out into the street, they saw Drax, his back to them and his arms outstretched with a blade in each hand. He laughed like a maniac and looked up at several Necrocraft from the fleet of Ronan.
“At last, I shall meet my foe and destroy him!” said Drax, watching the ships come in for a landing.
“Oh no,” said Peter. “Ronan knows we’re here!”
Once again, it was time to run.
“Stand behind me!” Drax shouted to his companions, a smile on his face. “You may write of this tale in your storybooks, so that future generations shall delight in its telling!”
“I am Groot?” asked Groot.
“Yes, he is insane,” said Rocket, answering Groot’s question.
“Sanity is the refuge of cowards!” Drax declared.
Peter figured this was about the worst situation he’d ever been in and was about to say that it simply couldn’t get worse. Then it did.
“Quill!” shouted a voice from across the street. Peter looked up to see Yondu. He and the other Ravagers were running right for Peter!
Gamora moved quickly. Grabbing Peter, she ran off with Rocket and Groot on her tail. The Ravagers, seeing the Orb still in Gamora’s hand, gave chase. They ran past Drax, who held his ground in the street, watching, pleased, as all the Necrocraft now opened their doors.