Chapter Text
3 Days Ago
Peter initially ignored the message from Spartax. Last time he was there he explicitly told his dad that he had no intention of recognising himself as the Crown Prince of the Empire. That Kip was far more suited to the role. Though he did appreciate the monthly calls and the yearly happy birthday message. He couldn’t deny that he missed his dad like crazy. The console chirped at him again and he swiped it away. They had to meet the Guardian’s back at Knowhere to begin their plan to search for Adam, and Peter didn’t have the time to be side tracked.
The console chirped again.
A thin branch extended from where Groot sat in his pot strapped to the passenger seat and Peter grabbed it before he could accept the incoming comm. He shot Groot a look and the now smaller Flora Colossus just shrugged at him. Peter was surprised the seedling didn’t put up more of a fight, but he knew Groot was thankful for finding the offshoot currently sitting in his ceramic pot of soil. They had Mantis to thank for that.
“Ship, ignore all messages from Spartax.”
Instead of doing what she was told, Ship brought up the message. Peter sighed and read it:
Brother,
Our father has fallen ill and we are without a leader. You know as well as I do that I could take over father’s duties, but I believe having the Star-Lord here may act as a morale booster to the people.
Peter, I would not ask this favour of you if I weren’t desperate.
Prince Kip
It was from his brother. His adopted brother.
Peter froze.
His father was sick?
They had only spoken a couple weeks ago, and his dad seemed well, joking and laughing with him. He suddenly felt guilty that he had to cut that call short to answer one from Richie. Richie… Peter’s heart sank. Going to Knowhere would’ve guaranteed a chance at seeing the Nova Prime for the first time in months. And despite trying to push his feelings for Richard away and ignoring them, he found himself yearning even harder.
Peter sighed and reluctantly input the coordinates to Spartax and turned Ship around. He knew he needed to see his father and how important this was, even though he had verbally renounced his title, it was never in writing. To the Spartoi Empire he was still their next in line. The Guardians could survive without him. Hopefully. Peter winced at the thought, his cybernetic eye twitching at the movement. The old cybernetic eye was starting to hurt.
A call came from Rocket over the sub-etheric, <Pete why am I watchin’ Ship turn herself around?>
“I hope you don’t mind being in charge for a bit longer, Rock,” Peter kept Ship at impulse engines. “I’ve gotta go to Spartax.”
<This is a flarking joke, right?> Rocket scratched a hand through his fur. Pete could see Cosmo in the background looking at the Raccoon. <Alright, alright. Do what you gotta do but if you need some backup, let us know.>
Peter laughed and mock saluted before disconnecting. “Alright, girl. Get us to Spartax.”
Ship didn’t need to be asked twice, she knew the way there. Their stargate opened, flinging them through space toward the Greater Magellanic Cloud. Peter had no idea what to expect when they arrived. It had been years since he’d set foot on Spartax. He wasn’t even sure if the people of Sparta would remember him or recognise him. Peter’s fingers brushed against his cybernetic eye and down to his collarbone where the inorganic parts of his robotic arm began.
It’d be fine.
Everything would be fine.
Peter sat back in the pilot’s chair and crossed his arms, “Ship, send a comm back to Kip. Tell him we’re on our way.”
/his highness has acknowledged./
“And since we're so close to Kree space, send one to Ronan, tell him I'm visiting as the Prince, not Star-Lord” He looked up at Ship’s holographic form that decided to make an appearance, the white light of the hologram lighting up the dimmed cockpit.
/sorry boyo, no can do. the signal is bouncing back./
Peter rubbed at his cybernetic eye again, “What do you mean?”
/how odd. Ship didn't elaborate, her holo form standing over the communication panel. /spartax is the only planet we can communicate with.
"If you've been bugged I'd know... Right?"
“I am Groot,” came a small voice from the passenger seat.
"Good idea," Peter tried Rocket through the sub-etheric. Nothing. He stared at Richard's name on the list and didn't try. The disappointment knowing he wasn't contactable was enough to sober Peter. "Ship run a level 5 diagnostic on yourself, I don't care how long it takes."
Ship's holographic form disappeared and the cockpit went to almost pitch black again, his cybernetic eye switching to night mode to compensate.
Groot fiddled with the soil in his pot, "I am Groot?"
“You’re right. First dad’s sick and now this? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we’re flying right into a trap.”
Groot made a circular motion with his hand that Peter translated as "turn around?"
“No,” Peter said. “Keep us on course. This is my job as Star-Lord, I may as well do it to help my planet.”
Peter stared into the blue lines of space warping around them as they hurtled toward the Spartoi Empire. He could really use backup but he’d have to make do with Ship and Groot, anyone else would more than likely cause a Galactic incident and after what they’ve all been through, that’s the last thing the Galaxy needs right now. He closed his eyes and settled into the chair. He'd wait for Ship's announcement upon reaching Spartax but until then, a nap sounded good.