by Alex Irvine
“Sir, please,” the owner begged, but Stakar shoved her away.
Yondu’s shock turned to anger. He shattered his glass and strode forward, screaming, “I don’t care what you think of me!”
Stakar spun and stalked back toward him. “So what are you following us for?”
“You’re gonna listen to what I’ve got to say!”
“I don’t gotta listen to nothing! You betrayed the code! Ravagers don’t deal in kids!”
“I told you before: I didn’t know what was going on!”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know. Because it made you rich.”
“I demand a seat at the table!” Yondu showed Stakar the Ravager patch on his coat. “I wear these flames just like you.”
“You may dress like one of us, but you’ll never hear the Horns of Freedom when you die, Yondu. And the colors of Ogord will never flash over your grave.” Stakar grabbed Yondu’s lapels and spoke more quietly. “If you think I take pleasure in exiling you, you’re wrong. You broke all our hearts.”
With that, Stakar walked away. Martinex lingered a moment longer, then followed. Yondu stood alone, shocked by the words of exile.
“Pathetic,” growled one of the other Ravagers who was watching the scene with his compatriots. “First, Quill betrays us and Yondu just lets him go scot-free. We followed him because he was the one who wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done. It seems he’s gone soft.”
“If he’s so soft,” said Kraglin, another Ravager, “why are you whispering for?”
“You know I’m right, Kraglin.”
A third Ravager by the name of Tullk piped up. “You best be careful when you say that about our captain.” He started to go on, but there was a stir from the crowd nearby and all the Ravagers turned to see what was going on.
It was a small party of gold-skinned Sovereign nobles, with their high priestess Ayesha in the center, stepping carefully on a blue carpet two attendants rolled out in front of her so she wouldn’t have to touch the ground of an unworthy place like Contraxia. She stopped at the end of the rug, directly in front of Yondu.
“Yondu Udonta,” she said. “I have a proposition for you.”
CHAPTER 7
Peter couldn’t believe that after all these years, his father had just shown up out of the blue and saved all their lives from the Sovereign. But Ego—what a name—knew things about Peter that only his father could know, and part of Peter wanted Ego’s story to be true. After all these years, maybe he could start to know his father. It seemed too good to be true.
They all sat around a campfire near the wreck of the Milano, as Ego caught Peter up on all that had happened while they were separated. “I hired Yondu to pick you up after your mother passed away,” Ego was saying. “But instead of returning you, Yondu kept you. I have no clue as to why.”
“I’ll tell you why,” Peter said. “I was a skinny little kid who could squeeze into places adults couldn’t. Made it easier for thieving.”
Ego considered this. “Well, I’ve been trying to track you down ever since.”
“I thought Yondu was your father,” Drax said. He was sitting just out of the firelight, eating and listening in on the conversation.
Peter couldn’t believe it. “What? We’ve been together this whole time and you thought Yondu was my actual blood relative?”
“You look exactly alike,” Drax explained with his mouth full.
“One’s blue!” Rocket said incredulously.
“No, he’s not my father,” Peter said. “Yondu is the guy who abducted me, kicked the snot out of me to teach me to fight, and kept me in terror by threatening to eat me.”
“Eat you?” Ego repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Ah…” Ego said, angrily realizing just how Peter must have grown up.
“How did you locate us now?” Gamora asked. She had been quiet so far. Peter had a feeling she didn’t quite trust what was happening…and neither did Peter, as much as he wanted to. They would have to talk about it.
“Well, even where I reside, out past the edge of what’s known, we’ve heard tell of the man they call Star-Lord,” Ego said. He stood and gestured toward his ship. “What say we head out there right now?” he asked Peter. “Your associates are welcome, even that triangle-faced monkey there.” Rocket touched his muzzle with both hands. “I promise you,” Ego went on, “it’s unlike any other place you’ve ever seen. And there, I can explain your very special heritage. Finally get to be the father I’ve always wanted to be. Excuse me. Gotta take a whiz.”
When he was gone, Peter looked across the campfire at Gamora. “I’m not buying it,” he said quietly.
“Let’s go take a walk,” she suggested.
“I am Mantis,” Ego’s companion said, introducing herself to Drax after Peter and Gamora had gone. Her face split in a grimace and she stared at him.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Smiling. I hear it is the thing to do to make people like you.”
“Not if you do it like that.”
“Oh. I was raised alone on Ego’s planet. I do not understand the intricacies of social interaction.” She looked over at Rocket, who was grooming himself at the edge of the fire. “Can I pet your puppy? He’s adorable.”
Drax looked from her to Rocket and back, his expression as neutral as he could make it. “Yes,” he said.
She reached out and stroked the back of Rocket’s head. He snarled and snapped at her, and she jumped back with a little scream. Drax laughed loud and long. “That is called a practical joke!”
Mantis started to laugh, too. “I like it very much.”
“I just made it up!” Drax was still laughing. On the far side of the campfire, Nebula sat alone, watching them.
“Give me a break,” Peter said when he and Gamora were a little distance away from the campfire. “After all this time, you show up, and you’re just going to be my dad? This could be a trap. The Kree purists, the Ravagers—they all want us dead.”
“I know, but…” Gamora looked troubled.
“But what?”
“What was that story you told me about Zardu Hasselfrau?”
“Who?” Peter had absolutely no idea who or what she was talking about.
“He owned a magic boat.”
Ah, Peter thought, remembering the story he had told Gamora ages ago. “Right. Not a magic boat, a talking car,” he said.
“Why did it talk again?”
“To help him fight crime, and to be supportive.”
“As a child, you would carry his picture in your pocket and you would tell all the other children that he was your father but he was out of town,” Gamora said, recalling what he’d told her once.
“Touring with his band in Germany,” Peter said, finishing the story. “Why are you bringing it up now?”
“I love that story,” she said.
Peter was surprised to hear she felt that way. “I hate that story,” he said. “It’s so sad. As a kid I used to see all the other kids off playing catch with their dads, and I wanted that more than anything in the world.”
“That’s my point, Peter. Listen.” She stepped close to him and took his hands softly. “If he ends up being evil, we’ll just kill him.”
Peter looked down at her hands holding his. She stepped back and let him go.
But she’s right, he thought. What if this really was his father? Could he stand to not find out?
By morning, the decision was made. Peter, Drax, and Gamora were going to Ego’s planet to learn about Peter’s origins. The others would stay and repair the Milano. Rocket and Groot didn’t like the plan, and neither did Nebula. “You’re leaving me with that fox?!” she raged when she found out.
“He’s not a fox,” Gamora said. She looked at Rocket. “Shoot her if she does anything suspicious.”
“Uh-huh,” Rocket said. He was busy with a matter compiler, using it to rebuild the damaged parts of the ship’s interior.
“Or if
you feel like it,” Gamora added.
“Good.” Rocket was ignoring her, feeling a little selfish and angry that the Guardians were splitting up.
Groot sat sadly nearby. He knew some of them were leaving but didn’t understand why. “It’ll just be a couple of days,” Gamora explained to him. “We’ll be back before Rocket’s finished fixing the ship.”
Groot waved as she walked away to join Peter and Drax, who were waiting with all the gear they were taking on the trip to Ego’s home planet. “What if the Sovereign come?” Drax was asking Peter.
“There’s no way for them to know we’re here,” Peter said. He was irritated that everyone saw all kinds of problems with the plan, when to him it was the obvious thing to do. “You’re like an old woman.”
“Because I am wise?” Drax countered.
Peter didn’t know what to say to that, so he ignored it. Before they left, he stopped to say something to Rocket, but Rocket was in no mood to hear it. “Hope Daddy isn’t as big a jerk as you, orphan boy.”
So much for talking things out, Peter thought. Maybe Rocket was still mad about their fight in the asteroid field, or maybe he just thought Peter was stupid to trust Ego. Either way, Peter was sick of it. “What is your goal here?” he asked. “To get everybody to hate you? Because it’s working.” Rocket didn’t answer. After a moment, Peter walked toward Ego’s ship, flanked by Drax and Gamora.
A moment later the ship lifted away. Nebula watched. She knew her chance would come if she was patient.
CHAPTER 8
Aboard Ego’s ship, everything was rounded and smooth and white. The three Guardians had barely settled in when Ego excused himself to lie down in a recessed couch in a small room off the main space. Mantis went with him. After he lay down, she touched his forehead and whispered, “Sleep.”
Ego’s eyes closed.
Peter watched from across the room. When Ego was asleep, Peter lingered there for a long time. His conversation with Gamora was fresh in his mind. He took his wallet out of his pocket, the same wallet he’d carried when he was ten years old. Inside was a worn picture of the man he had pretended was his father. Peter looked at it for a long time. After so many years, could this really be happening? And was it really connected to his ability to hold an Infinity Stone in his hand back on Xandar?
Another question rang in his mind: Who am I, really?
Only Ego could answer.
After a while, he found Drax and Mantis sitting together. Peter joined them around a couch that was round and white like everything else. “Hey,” Peter said to Mantis. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“No one has ever asked me a personal question,” she said, which he took to be permission.
“Your antennae. What are they for?”
“Their purpose?”
“Yes,” Drax interrupted. “Quill and I have a bet.”
Peter dropped his head in disappointment. “You’re not supposed to say that.”
Drax ignored him. “I say that if you are about to go through a doorway and it is too low, they save you from being decapitated.”
“Right,” Peter said. “And if it’s anything other than you specifically being decapitated by a doorway, I win.”
“They are not for feeling doorways,” Mantis said, taking the question seriously. “I think they have something to do with my empathic abilities.”
Gamora had entered through the closest doorway. “What are those?”
“When I touch someone, I can feel their feelings,” Mantis explained.
“You mean read minds?”
“No. Telepaths read thoughts. Empaths feel feelings. Emotions.” She turned to Peter. “May I?”
“Oh, all right,” Peter said. He was curious.
She put a hand on his and her antennae glowed a bright white. “You feel…love,” she said.
Immediately, Peter was uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess, I feel a general unselfish love for everybody—”
“No,” she said. “Romantic love.”
Uh-oh, Peter thought. He knew where this was going. “No, no I don’t—”
Delighted, Mantis pointed at Gamora. “For her!”
“No, that’s not—”
Drax roared with laughter, drowning out whatever Peter had been about to say. “She just told everyone your deepest, darkest secret! You must be so embarrassed!” Still laughing, Drax turned to Mantis. He could barely contain his excitement; he slapped his chest. “Do me! Do me!”
Mantis leaned over and placed a hand on Drax’s chest. A moment later she, too, burst out laughing. “I have never felt such humor!” she said, collapsing on the bench next to him.
She bounced up, still riding the wave of Drax’s humor, and skipped over to Gamora—but when she reached to touch her, Gamora caught her gauntleted wrist and held it away. “Touch me, and the only thing you’re going to feel is a broken jaw.”
Mantis looked crestfallen. She turned back to Peter and Drax. “I can also alter emotions to some extent.”
“Yeah, like what?” Peter asked.
“If I touch someone who is sad, I can ease them into contentment for a short while.” She glanced over at Gamora. “I can use it to make a stubborn person compliant.” Then she returned her attention to Peter. “But mostly I use it to help my master sleep. He lies awake at night, thinking about his progeny.”
“Do one of those on me,” Drax said.
Mantis walked over to him and laid a palm on his forehead. “Sleep,” she said. Drax’s head tipped back and he started snoring like a buzz saw.
That’s a pretty good trick, Peter thought.
CHAPTER 9
Rocket heard the Ravager force approaching. He was out in the woods, watching the security precautions he had placed around the Milano, which he would need a few more days to repair. When he saw the Ravagers’ flashlights in the trees, he figured he could just watch and wait, because the first group was headed right for a little present he’d left for any unwanted guests.
One of them stepped on a pressure plate hidden under some leaves. Dozens of tiny darts tipped with a powerful sedative shot out from the surrounding trees. The Ravagers dropped to the ground without a sound, looking a bit like pincushions with all the darts stuck in them.
But more of them were coming, and as Rocket turned to scamper along a tree branch, one of them spotted him. They shot their blasters at him, shattering tree limbs and filling that part of the forest with smoke. He couldn’t believe nobody at the Milano was hearing this…but it was just Groot and Nebula back there, anyway. No help coming from that direction.
He got to a safe spot, with the trunk of a huge, old tree between him and the Ravagers. They were standing right in the middle of a group of gravity field mines Rocket had strewn earlier that night. Now that they weren’t shooting at him, Rocket triggered all the mines at once. Crackling blue energy flashed out from the mines, flinging the Ravagers into the air. Some of them bounced from one expanding energy field to another before crashing back to the ground. Drax would have appreciated this, Rocket thought. He laughed out loud as the last of that group of Ravagers hit the ground and lay still. Now it was time to take a little risk.
Rocket dropped out of the trees onto a Ravager. He slapped a little relay circuit onto the Ravager’s head. Then he jumped fast from Ravager to Ravager, planting a relay on each one and then jumping back up into the branches before they could get a fix on where he was. He touched a remote trigger and electricity jolted through every one of the relays. That whole part of the forest lit up with the flashes. When they faded, all the Ravagers were down.
Was that them all? Rocket dropped out of the trees. For a moment he thought he was alone, but then his nose did the work. He could smell Ravagers. Close by. Two of them.
“Ain’t so tough now, are you? Without all your toys,” one of them said. Rocket launched himself at the Ravager, scratching and biting at him. He heard the other Ravager raise his gun and jumped out of the way just as the blast of energy
took down the first Ravager. His leap carried him back across the clearing to the second Ravager. Rocket pounded him to the ground and kept pounding him until he didn’t try to get up anymore.
How many more could there be? He looked around and didn’t see any.
But he did hear a whistle, and it was a whistle he recognized. Yondu. That meant—
Rocket glanced up to see the glowing red trail of Yondu’s whistle-controlled arrow, shooting through the trees at him, way too fast to dodge. He reflexively ducked his head and the arrow stopped an inch short, aimed right between his eyes.
He looked up. “Crap.”
“Hey there, rat,” Yondu said with a grin, coming out of the trees with more Ravagers. A lot more.
“How’s it going, you blue idiot?” Rocket answered.
“Not so bad. We got ourselves a pretty good little gig here. This golden gal with quite a high opinion of herself has offered us a large sum to deliver you and your pals over to her, because she wants to kill you.”
The Ravagers laughed. Rocket stood there, the arrow still before him, wishing he’d never taken the stupid batteries in the first place. But they’d been right there…How was he supposed to resist something like that?
Inside the Milano, Nebula could hear part of what was going on. This was her chance…if she could convince Groot. “Your friend,” she said. “There’s too many of them. He needs my help.”
Groot looked troubled.
“If you care about him, you need to get me out of these bonds,” she said. “They’re going to kill him.”
Out in the clearing, Yondu kept his arrow hovering near Rocket. “I tell you, it was pretty easy to find you. I put a tracer on your ship back during the war with Ronan.”
“Give me your word you won’t hurt Groot and I’ll tell you where the batteries are,” Rocket said. He knew when he was beaten. He just had to try to make the best deal he could. Later he would be able to come up with an escape plan.
