by Stuart Moore
“Should have stayed on Uranus, loser,” he hissed.
The first repulsor blast slammed into Quill’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. The second one blew him off his feet. Then the uni-beam glowed bright, channeling all the power of the arc reactor at the core of the Iron Man armor. With a pure white flash, the beam plowed into the Guardian, sending him tumbling and skidding the length of the pier.
The Kree broke and ran, scrambling toward shore. Quill shot past them, then let out a cry as he slammed up against the chainlink fence, tearing it loose from the ground at the base of the pier.
Tony jetted down, landed easily, and started walking toward land. Quill was down, unmoving. Tony read shallow breathing, a slow heartbeat. The Guardian was alive, but definitely unconscious.
Tony turned his attention to the factory complex, the high windowless building dotted with loading docks and fire escapes. Now, he thought. Now to find out what’s going on here. Time to root out the cancer in my father’s house–
He barely saw the streak of green, heard the icy battle-cry ring out. And then Gamora was upon him. She kicked out expertly, knocking him off balance, and jabbed a hard flat hand into his chest. As he fell backward, he fired off one repulsor, then the other. The first beam grazed her arm; the second one missed her completely.
He landed flat on his back, sending a painful jolt up his spine. As he rolled up to a crouch, he saw the long, sharp sword in her hands. She brought it down at the edge of his chestplate, then dug in hard.
NO! he thought.
The arc reactor sparked and whined as she pried off its cover, twisting the sword like a crowbar. He reached up and grabbed for the blade, but she was too fast. As the reactor cover snapped free, she raised her sword in the air.
Off my game, he thought. Too many distractions – and in this game, just one distraction could be his last.
Gamora hesitated, staring at him with steel in her eyes. “You asked what we want,” she said. “That’s simple: to find the animal that killed our friend.”
She brought down the sword, stabbing it into the arc reactor in a shower of sparks. Pain lanced through him as his heart convulsed; his world collapsed into an all-pervading haze of pain. And then he passed out.
Chapter 16
A familiar tingle came over Kamala, the sign of her power activating. It felt like a sudden growth spurt powered by electromagnetic force; as if parts of her were changing, evolving, becoming something new.
She extended her body as far as she could, reaching for the fleeing spaceship. With a final thrust of her arm, she grabbed hold of a small protrusion on the bottom. It felt hot and rough to the touch. She winced, struggling to hang on. For the first time she wondered: why doesn’t this costume have gloves?
Jen took hold of her arm and pulled her up. The spaceship lurched, and for a moment Kamala flailed in the air. Jen lifted her, as if she weighed nothing, and deposited her on the spaceship’s wing.
Wind whipped through her hair; her sash rippled wildly in the air. They were moving inland, toward the gleaming towers and low circular structures of the Stark high-tech energy research sector. That was staffed entirely by humans, Halla-ar had told her, and she noticed now that the area looked deserted. Apparently only the Kree had to work on Saturday.
“You OK?” Jen yelled, over the rush of air and the roar of the engines.
Kamala smiled and nodded.
“Good. Follow me.”
Jen crept up to the front of the wing, reaching for handholds and picking her way across the surface. When she leapt up to the main body of the ship, Kamala tensed, stretched out her arms, and followed.
The cockpit formed the raptor-ship’s “head” – a semi-detached compartment with viewport windows on all sides, allowing the pilot to see in almost every direction. “Stay on the roof – away from the viewports!” Jen called. “We don’t want them to know we’re here!”
“Got it!”
Kamala followed Jen onto the opaque roof, extending and retracting her arms and legs to keep from falling off. Her foot came down hard and she winced, afraid she’d given their presence away. But the sound was lost in the thunder of the engines.
Jen moved like a cat, every step perfectly chosen. So cool, Kamala thought. Totally unflappable.
The ship tipped sharply to the side. Kamala tumbled for a moment, then grabbed hold of the roof. She caught a quick glimpse of an airplane hangar below. The pier was out of sight, hidden behind that tall factory building.
“I think they know we’re here!” she said, pulling herself back up.
Jen hadn’t moved; she was holding onto a gunport near the front of the roof. She shot Kamala a worried look. Kamala made a hasty thumbs-up gesture and then grabbed the roof with both hands as the ship lurched again.
A dark grimace came over Jen’s face. She snarled, crouched down, and took hold of the front lip of the roof with both hands. Then she reared back and pulled, letting out a howl of fury.
A shiver ran up Kamala’s spine. For the first time, she could really see the Hulk that lived inside Jennifer Walters.
The ship tilted again, but Jen paid no attention. She just held on, fingers straining, pulling back with all her strength. A loud crunching noise filled the air, penetrating the rush of wind and the roar of engines. Bolts cracked, plasteel fixtures snapped, viewport seals popped free…
Slowly but steadily, Jen peeled back the roof like a sardine-can lid.
Kamala stumbled up behind her, stretching her arms to keep hold of the roof supports. The unseen pilot was really shaking the ship now – definitely trying to throw them off. Jen squeezed her eyes shut and tugged one final time, snapping a huge chunk of roof free. As it tumbled off into the air, Kamala leaned forward to peer inside.
“Uh…” she began. “Is it normal for a spaceship to have a forest inside it?”
Thick vines reached up and grabbed hold of her arms, her torso. Jen’s eyes snapped open in surprise as the vines seized her too, pulling her toward the opening. Before the two Avengers could react, they were flung one way, then the other, and then slammed down on the floor of the cockpit compartment.
“Uhh!” Kamala cried.
The vines thickened into branches, holding her tight. She caught sight of a figure sitting in the pilot’s seat, a small humanoid creature with matted, tangled fur. Then the branches dragged her across the jagged floor to the back of the cockpit, into a thick jungle of floor-to-ceiling tree trunks.
Jen struggled. The branches tossed her up and she landed, with a loud THUD, on a crash couch. She sprang back up to her feet, but the branches kept hold of her wrists and ankles.
Kamala shook her head, dazed. Wind rushed all around, swirling in from the hole in the roof. Vines and branches coiled and whipped in the confined space, penning the two Avengers into a small alcove between two seats at the back of the cockpit. The vegetation was all linked together, like some crazy plumbing system made of… well, trees.
An ovoid face with dark eyes began to form in the nearest tree trunk. It jutted forward, wooden features twisting in curiosity as it studied the two women.
“I am Groot?” it asked.
Jennifer grunted, flexed, and snapped the wooden bonds holding one arm. Her fist flew forward, catching “Groot” straight in the nose – or where its nose should have been, anyway. As the creature cried out, the entire forest trembled in anger.
“Keep it down, kids,” the pilot called. “Don’t make me come back there!”
Jennifer pulled one leg free, lurching forward toward the angry Groot-face. Kamala struggled, but the branches tightened around her. There’s no way to grow my way out of this, she thought. I’ll have to shrink instead…
Then she felt a prickling on her arm. She turned to see sharp thorns, piercing her costume, just beginning to break the skin. A vine on her leg had sprouted dangerous-looking sucker
protrusions, holding her firmly in place. That meant shrinking was out of the question, too. If the thorns didn’t rip her apart, the suckers would tear her to pieces.
Jen kicked at a branch, knocking herself off balance – her other leg was still restrained by Groot’s many limbs. The tree-thing stretched forward and head-butted her, snarling, “I am Groot!” As Jen fell back, dazed, a fresh crop of thick branches snaked toward her, grabbing her tight.
“Just hold these spaceship vandals still for a sec, Groot,” the pilot said. “I’m puttin’ us on autopilot.”
The branches tugged gently at Kamala, nudging her down into a crash seat. In the chair next to her, Jen squirmed and struggled in vain. The tree trunks began to thin and retract, clearing the space between the Avengers and the pilot. Groot eyed them coldly as his trunk-head glided to the side.
The pilot – who, yes, was covered with fur – rose to his feet. He snapped a small device free of the control panel and turned to face them, studying them with ratlike eyes. Then he strode toward them, pausing to wince at the gaping hole in the roof.
“Too bad Quill’s not here,” he said. “He always wanted a convertible.”
“Are you a raccoon?” Kamala blurted.
The creature stopped to glare at her. “You ain’t makin’ this better,” he growled.
Jennifer Walters grunted, struggling. “Let me go!”
The raccoon, or whatever it was, ignored her. “The real question,” he said to Kamala, “is what you are.” He held up his device, which looked vaguely like a large DVD remote, and aimed it straight at her head.
Kamala tensed, eyes wide.
“No!” Jen cried.
Groot, who had shrunk down to a single body with a couple dozen protruding branches, nudged the pilot-creature on the shoulder. “I am Groot,” he pointed out.
The pilot glanced at his friend, puzzled, then looked down at the device in his hand. “What? Oh…” Then, smirking, he raised the device, pointed it straight at Jen, and pressed a button.
A light turned deep red on the front of the “remote.” Jen blinked in surprise.
“You – hahaha!” the pilot said. “You thought this was a… a gun or somethin’? Hahahahaha!”
Groot looked disapproving. “I am Groot.”
“It was too funny.” He turned to Kamala. “Wasn’t that funny?”
Kamala just glared at him.
“Nobody gets my sense of humor.” The creature flipped the device around in his hand. “This, sweetheart, is a simple Kree life-signs detector. It’s what brought us to this Jersey factory-outlet of a planet in the first place–”
“This is not New Jersey,” Kamala snapped.
“New, old, whatever.” The creature gestured at the device, indicating the red light. “Point is, this dingus says you people ain’t Kree. Though I’m gettin’ a slightly funny reading off you.”
He glared at Kamala again. It’s my powers, she realized; they’re Kree-based. She opened her mouth to explain, then thought better of it. The raccoon didn’t look ready to sit still for a long explanation.
“I am Groot,” Groot said.
“Huh, that’s true,” the raccoon said. “They could be workin’ with the Kree.”
“She’s their lawyer,” Kamala said, and immediately regretted it.
“I am Groot!”
“Right?” the pilot said, turning to Jen. “‘Aha’, indeed!”
“I will kill you,” Jen hissed.
“Ah, objection, counselor!” The pilot ran a very humanlike hand through his thick head-fur. “Hostile. Intimidating the witness, or whatnot.”
Jennifer breathed slowly, regularly, in and out. She’s calming herself, Kamala realized. Considering what to do next. Trying to regain her unflappability. Unflappableness? Unflappabosity?
“Listen, guys,” Kamala began. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. My name’s Ms Marvel… what’s yours?”
“I am Groot,” Groot said.
“Yeah,” his friend agreed.
Kamala and Jen just stared at them.
“Rocket,” the pilot said. “He said my name is Rocket.”
“Rocket,” Kamala repeated. “OK. So why are you hunting the Kree?”
“We ain’t hunting all of ’em. Just one.”
“I am Groot.”
“Yeah, maybe more than one.”
Jen cleared her throat. “You may not realize this,” she said, “but the Kree have been treated very poorly on Earth.”
Rocket shrugged. “I been treated poorly all my life. You don’t see me runnin’ around blowing up planets.”
“What about the heat rays you were shooting at the office complex?” Kamala asked.
“Huh? Oh, that? That was just me blowin’ off steam. I had this quantum force generator installed a couple months ago, but Quill won’t let me use it. For once he ain’t around to stop me.” He grinned. “I call it the Big Burn Beam.”
“I am Groot.”
“Yeah, fair point. It is gratuitous.”
“The Kree,” Jennifer said, “have engaged my services to improve conditions at Stark Enterprises. Among other things, they have been deprived of medical care and locked in their barracks at night.”
Groot and Rocket exchanged glances. For the first time, they seemed uncertain. Jen had her “forceful” voice on; once again, she sounded like a lawyer. Kamala felt a weird impulse to solemnly swear something.
“Whatever the truth of these accusations,” Jen continued, “it’s fair to say that the Kree have a lot to deal with right now. So why are you harassing them? What are you actually looking for?”
Groot’s eyes narrowed. He nudged Rocket aside, shuffling his arboreal head over to glare directly into Jen’s eyes. Several dozen branches still protruded from his body, holding Jen and Kamala tight in their chairs.
“I am Groot,” he growled. “Groot.”
“He says we’re huntin’ a planet-killer,” Rocket hissed. “A planet-killer that also murdered our friend.”
Kamala felt a sudden stab of doubt. Were the Kree, she wondered, as innocent as they seemed? She liked Halla-ar, but there was no denying that he could be… violent. What was he really capable of?
Jennifer stared into Groot’s grim wooden features. “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said. “But you have to know that the Avengers won’t let you terrorize innocent people.”
“The Avengers?” Rocket laughed. “Is that still a thing?”
“I won’t let you.”
With those words, Jennifer flexed all four arms and legs, striking out in four directions at once. The Groot-branches holding her cracked and snapped – all except the vines holding her left leg.
“I am Groot!”
“Yeah, got that already,” Jennifer snarled. She reached down, grabbed the vine holding her leg, and yanked hard. Groot’s heavy tree-body lurched forward, tumbled off balance, and crashed to the floor.
Kamala felt her own restraints loosen as Groot turned his full attention to Jen. She reached up, carefully plucked the thorns from the arms of her costume, and pulled herself free.
“Now listen!” Jen yelled. “First, let’s just land this ship and–”
“Ms Walters!” Kamala cried.
She gestured toward the pilot’s chair, where Rocket stood aiming a very large weapon at them.
“I got a better idea,” Rocket said, watching as Groot climbed to his… well, to his roots. “First, let’s find the guy that killed my pal Drax and fry ’im to death slowly in a pit of hot grease. Then we can do whatever thing you were going to say.”
Jen and Kamala exchanged looks. Then, slowly, they began to advance on Rocket.
Rocket sighed. “And in case you had any doubts,” he said, “this one is a gun.”
He fired. Kamala tried to dodge, but a blast of energ
y slammed into her. Quick images flashed before her eyes: Jen turning to her in alarm, Groot turning to attack Jen, Rocket fiddling with the controls–
The floor lurched again. Kamala flailed midair as the ship continued to tilt, twisting all the way upside-down. She fell, almost in slow motion, toward the hole in the roof, catching a glimpse of patchy grass and a pitted tar road whipping past.
“No!” Jen cried, reaching out for her. Kamala stretched her arm out as far as she could, but the pull of gravity was too strong. Her fingers grazed against Jen’s for an instant, and then she plummeted through the hole, back out into open air.
Chapter 17
Gamora stood over her fallen foe, tossing Iron Man’s chest-covering up and down in one hand. Know your enemy, she thought. That’s how she’d beaten him – by studying his armor, his weaponry, his fighting techniques. Once she’d figured out his weakness, it was a simple matter to turn it against him without fatally wounding him.
But the victory, she knew, was a hollow one. Stark lay unmoving on the pier, but he was not the Guardians’ true prey. That entity still hid in the shadows, unknown and unseen.
I don’t know the enemy at all, she realized.
Quill staggered up to her, favoring one leg. His hair was matted to one side, and his element gun had a dent in it. When he saw Stark lying still, his face fell.
“Did you… Did you kill him?” he asked.
“Peter. Give me some credit.” She shot him a deadly side-eye glance. “I don’t always go for the main artery.”
“Oh, right. Good.” He winced as he tried to smile. “That’s really good to hear. You might not know it, but I’m kind of a fan of his.”
“You may have mentioned that once or twice,” she replied. “Anyway, he should be out for a while.”
“I had him, you know. Couple more minutes, he’d have been begging for mercy.”
She looked from Peter down to the fallen Iron Man, and then at the chest-plate in her hand. With a casual swing, she tossed it into the ocean.
“You, uh, kind of took your time helpin’ out,” Quill said.