Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Come on…pleeaaase!”

“No.”

“Please, please, pleeeaaase.”

“No.”

“I don’t wanna take Wiz ‘n Raja.”  

Yondu raised an eyebrow and finally glanced away from the windshield. “Ship rules.”

Peter groaned and flopped against the back of Yondu’s seat.

“Ship rules, Peter.”

Peter groaned again as Maris firmly pushed him off the seat and onto the floor. He crossed his legs and arms, trying to ignore the fact that his Ravager jacket was still slightly too big on him.

“No solo missions ‘til you’re an adult on your planet.”

“Uh huh.” Yondu said, flipping the ship’s autopilot on. “And the age of adulthood on Terra is?”

“Eighteen.” Peter mumbled. Maris was facing the other way but somehow Peter could feel the smugness radiating from her perfectly straight shoulders.

Yondu spun his chair round to look at him. Yondu as reclining in the seat, casual as a king surrounded by his treasures – a motley collection of tat, statues, crystals and mismatched ceramics that the crew had gifted him over the years.

“And are you eighteen?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “There’s like nine months. I’m basically -”

“So, no.” Yondu interrupted, smug look on his insufferably blue face.

“Oh, C’mon. You know I can handle it. Rava hates getting out of bed and Wiz is gonna get distracted by something shiny. I might as well be doing the heist alone anyway.”

“So, there’s no problem.”

“Aw,” Peter whined, slumping into even more of a puddle on the floor. “Dad’s dead, do you really still hafta be so anal.”

Yondu raised an eyebrow and Peter deflated. “Yeah, Yeah, I’m going.” He said, scooping up the pad with the job spec on it. As he did so the front screen dinged with an incoming message. Peter squinted at the screen. It was coordinates and a picture of a grey orb in some kind of temple. Below it there was a price. A price with many, many zeroes.

Peter glanced around the cabin. Maris was looking out the window, Yondu was reading the message. Very, very carefully he tilted his pad upwards, just enough to snap a picture of the screen. Neither of them looked round as he ducked out of the room, swallowing the victorious cackle in his chest.

Xxx

“No.”

Peter scowled, “Ah, c’mon, everyone’s saying no to me today. It’s enough to give a guy a complex.”

“Die mad about it.” Wiz said, his head was buried in the plating of his M-Ship and every now and then sparks would fizzle out of the entrance.

“Raja agreed.”

“Raja would agree ta’ stop breathin’ if he thought he could get away with it.”

Peter glanced over at Raja who at that very moment was lying face down on the floor of the hanger. His pink skin against the metal gave Peter vague memories of chewing gum stuck to school chairs. Raja raied two fingers in acknowledgment of Wiz’s statement but didn’t dispute it.

“Breathing is so much effort.” He said.

“See.” Said Wiz, his voice muffled by the layers of metal between them. “It is not a great plan.”

“My plans are always great.” Peter said.

Wiz ducked down into a crouch, just so that he could give Peter an incredulous stare. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was still wearing his welding goggles and that the tips of his hair were smoking slightly.

“Your plan’s ta lie to the capt’n and say you’re on the heist with us, while you steal a job from beneath the capt’ns nose.” Wiz pointed out, pushing his goggles up. His skin was stained with grease and, as he moved the goggles, he revealed a single stripe brilliant red. “An’ then, when the captain finds out we…what? Say sorry?”

“The captain,” Peter said. “Is gonna be so impressed that he aint gonna care. He’ll bump me up to solo mission and you can spend all your time fiddling with your gadgets and Raja can…I don’t know what Raja does…sleep?”

“I don’t think this plan is gonna work out how you think it is.” Wiz said, slamming the panel back into place and tossing the spanner he was holding in the direction of his toolkit.

“So, you agree to do it?”

“No.” Wiz said. “It’s like you’re tryin’ to get spaced. Capt’n will kill you for this. Seriously, is this like Terran thing? Are all your teenagers just thick as shit?”

“Ah, c’mon.” Peter whined. “I’m more than ready. I’m basically eighteen. I’ll…I’ll buy you those Bavarian batteries you’re always going on about.”

Wiz went very still. “You mean Bouvillian?”

 “Yeah, Whatever, Bolivian.” Peter waved a hand.

“You know just one a those’d power a ship this size for nineteen months.” Wiz said, voice very close to worshipful.

“Uh huh.”

“You also know that they cost about 12 million credits. Each.”

As a matter of fact, Peter did not know that. That seemed like way, way too much money to pay for a battery. Still. It had been a very, very large number.

“Yep.” Peter was proud of the fact that his voice was only a little bit strangled.

“Deal.” Wiz snapped, lunging forwards to shake Peter’s hand before the Terran could change his mind. Peter grimaced at the grainy oil smeared across his palm and tried to discretely wipe it off on his trousers.

“Great. I just need you to buy me like” Peter waved his hands a vague circle as he tried to decide on a time. “Twelve hours? A little more if you can manage it. The planet aint too far off so I shouldn’t need more’n that, if you two could just stay in your rooms or something that’d be great.”

“Uh huh.” Wiz drawled, scooping up his tool kit and sauntering in the direction of the hanger doors. “I’ll go tell Kraglin we’re headin’ out. Do try not ta get killed ‘cause I will sell your kidneys to pay for this battery now.”

Peter pulled a face. Wiz was such a drag lately.

Raja actually managed to expend the effort to roll onto his side and was staring up at Peter with a completely black eye.

“You didn’t offer me twelve million credits to let you go kill yourself on a deserted planet.” He said.

Peter kicked him back onto his front. “If you wanted 12 million credits you should have held out for longer than the ‘Wanna do nothing for a day’ bit of my speech.”

“Eh.” Raja dragged himself to his considerably lanky height and flipped the long front of his unrecut to the side. “I regret nothing. I’m going to head to my room and sleep for exactly twelve hours. If you need anything else…”

“Go to literally anyone else?”

Raja flipped him an irreverent salute. “You got it. Where is this grey orb thing anyway?”

Peter pulled the pad out of his bag and squinted sceptically at the screen. The picture wasn’t the best, it was blurry, and his thumb covered half the screen. Still, you could just about make out the destination.

He shrugged. “Some place called Morag?”

Rava snorted. “The ghost planet? Good luck.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “We do half our trade in a literal giant skull. I’m not gonna freak out just ‘casue a planets a little abandoned.”

“Yeah, Yeah.” Rava managed to get a hand out and ruffle Peter’s hair before the younger boy could pull away. “Just looking out for my baby brother.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “After I pull this off, I’m not gonna be anyone’s ‘baby’ brother.”

Chapter Text

The first sign that things might not be going to plan was definitely when the guys in grey showed up.

Up until that point it had all been going pretty smoothly. It had only been about five hours from the Ravager ship to the deserted planet and he’d touched down with seven hours left on his self-imposed deadline. Plus, Yondu was still oblivious to it all ‘cause Peter would definitely have heard something if Yondu knew. Possibly without the need for a communicator. They’d never been able to test it, but he and Wiz were pretty sure that Yondu’s yelling could be heard through space.

The orb had been pretty easy to find as well. It had just been left in the middle of some weird abandoned temple that sorta reminded Peter of a really depressing version of some of the pictures he’d seen about ancient Greece. He’d found it suspended in blue light behind some very easy to pick doors and only guarded by these creepy little rat creatures that Peter had possibly had little too much fun beating up.

Well, guarded by some creepy rat creatures and whoever these guys were. Peter tried to subtly shift the orb behind his back but, as bright blue eyes followed the move, he got the feeling that he was unsuccessful.

“Drop it.” Blue eyes said, holding his gun higher and gesturing for the other two to fan out.  It was a pretty sweet gun. Peter would definitely have to grab that later.

“Yep, yep no problem.” Peter held up his hands and dropped the orb. It clanked loudly as it hit the floor and Peter really, really hoped that whatever was inside wasn’t fragile. “Dropping it now. No problem at all.”

Goon number one prodded at him with a gun and Peter shuffled back a step, hands still raised in front of him, carefully positioned to cover the Ravager flames on the front breast of his jacket. Couldn’t really do anything about the one on his sleeve but maybe they wouldn’t notice. They didn’t look like cops. But you never knew.

“How did you know about this?” Blue eyes snapped, scooping up the orb and waving it threateningly.

“I don’t even know what that is!” Peter protested, backing up a step. “I was just scavenging, y’know. My sister’s birthday’s coming up. It looked cute.”

“And why would a scavenger be wearing Ravager colours?”

Okay. Maybe they had noticed. 

“Ravagers can have sisters too man, I have sisters, like you would not believe how many sisters I have.” One of the goons nudged him with their gun in an obvious threat and Peter held his hands up again. “Yep. I am shutting up now.”

“What is your name?” Blue eyes demanded. He really needed to learn to sap not spray because yeesh.

“My name is Peter Quill okay, I’m just some Terran who saw the shiny space rock and thought it looked cool, okay.”

Blue eyes frowned at him and started to turn. “Bring him. Ronan may have questions for him.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Peter said, waving his hands frantically. None of his siblings were around. This was the perfect time. “There’s another name you could know me by…Starlord.”

Blue eyes looked unimpressed. 

“Okay. I get it, it’s new, I’m just starting out.” Peter raised his chin and put on his best cocky expression, fuelled with the kind of swagger he could only have picked up from Yondu. “What about Clan Udonta, you ever heard of them?”

Goon number two faltered and Peter seized his opportunity, slamming a foot backwards into his knee. Goon Number Two stumbled backwards into Number One and Peter pulled one of Wiz’s nastier inventions out of his pocket, twisting the top til it lit up. He tossed it at the two goons where it imploded and scattered them to dust.

“You-”

Peter pulled out his gun before Blue Eyes could finish talking, shooting him straight in his armour-plated chest and sending him to the floor. His gun clattered to the floor and Peter scooped it up with one hand, the other reaching for the orb as he resisted the urge to cackle madly.

Blue eyes made a grab for one of the persons formally known as Goon’s gun, spinning it round and firing it at Peter who ducked. The gun et out a blast of purple plasma that punched a hole right through the temple’s wall.

“Woah.” Peter whispered, eying the destruction and clutching his stolen gun closer to his chest. Then he slapped the button to activate his rocket boots and scarpered.

He hit the ground rolling and used the momentum to fling him to his feet, rain splattering across his face and into his eyes. He hit the button for the boots again, flinging himself into the air and just managing to dodge another shot. He’d left the door to his ships cockpit open and managed to slide down the window and swing himself in, slamming the door shut behind him and starting the engine. He spared a moment to mourn the fact that none of his siblings had been there to see it before taking off.

Aaaand now they had a canon. Perfect. Just perfect. Peter yanked the wheel to the right, just managing to avoid a shot that almost clipped the wing and grounded him. He flipped into a roll, disappearing into a cloud of dust and rain that had been kicked up by the explosion, accelerating upwards to escape and flipping Blue Eyes the bird as he passed.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as he hit the edge of the atmosphere and levelled out. The orb was on board, he’d ditched whoever those guys were and, he glanced at his screen, he still had five and a half more hours to get to Nova and get this bad boy priced.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

Peter spun round, hand automatically going to his gun as he came face to face with a rather dishevelled girl.

A rather dishevelled girl who he didn’t know.

A rather dishevelled girl that was somehow on his ship.

Peter groaned and resisted the urge to slam his head against the wall in disbelief. He spun his chair back around and, with rather jerky movements, angrily punched in the code for his sister’s communicator.

The screen rang for just long enough for the silence in the cabin to get awkward, then the screen filled with one half silken sheets and one half Rava’s pink face.

“I’m busy, Peter.” She said, her voice groggy with sleep and her dark hair mussed up like fingers had been running through it.

“I told you to stop bringing girls back onto my ship.” Peter snapped.

Rava rolled her eyes and the screen spun round as she moved and then settled down with her face fully in view. She and Raja were identical. The same pink skin and black eyes. They even had the same hair, shave short on the sides and long on the top. Though everyone agreed that Rava wore it better.

“I told you, little brother. You’re a novelty.” Rava drawled, reclining onto her pillows just enough that Peter could see a pale blue arm wrapped around her waist. “I can’t help it if girls find all your Terran toys interesting. Plus, it’s not like I can bring them back to my ship. I might never get them out.”

Peter coughed, tilting the screen back so that she could see the girl still standing awkwardly behind him.

Rava blinked and leaned forward, face drawing up into a seductive grin.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She drawled, and the girl blushed, curling a strand of hair around her finger and giggling. “I hope my brother hasn’t been a nuisance.”

“I” Peter snapped, “Have been a perfect gentleman. You’re the one leaving your one-night stands in my ship. You’re the nuisance.”

Rava rolled her eyes again. “Do stop being overdramatic, darling. You were going on a job with Raja and Wiz, I figured that by the time you got back Bereet would be long gone.” Rava paused to throw another wink Bereet’s way. “That is, of course, if I was finished with her.”

Peter gagged and pulled a face at her, barely noticing as Rava’s face turned from flirtatious to considering.

“Wait a minute.” She said. Peter froze. It never went well for him when his siblings used that kind of tone.

“You’re supposed to be on a job with Raja and Wiz. Why are you in your M-ship?”

“Because we decided to take mine on the job. There! Easy explanation.” Peter babbled.

Rava shook her head sharply. “Raja never lets anyone fly him anywhere. Where are you? Are you alone? Does the Captain know –”

“Oh Hey,” Peter yelled, jumping to his feet. “Is that Wiz? Yep, that’s Wiz alright. I’d better go see what he wants.”

“Wait!”

 “Bye Rava, stop bringing girls back to my ship.” Peter babbled, ending the call.

“Well.” He said to himself, barely aware that Bereet was still in the room. “That might be a problem.”

Chapter Text

“So, er, do you want something to drink?”

Bereet shook her head, a coy smile tugging at her lips as she glanced down at the table. Peter had stuck the ship’s autopilot on and moved them both down into the belly of his ship. It was a little cramped and more than a little awkward. Especially since he had noticed that Bereet was wearing one of his shirts. Honestly, Rava had just dropped beneath Haracks as ‘least favourite sibling’. And Peter had lost count of the number of times he’d decked Haracks for slagging off his music so that was really saying.

“Um.” Peter fidgeted with the little orb, rolling it between his palms. The metal was grainy and oddly creased in a way that caught against the callouses on his hands. “I’m heading for Nova, so I guess I could drop you off there? Then you could catch a ship from Nova to…wherever Rava picked you up?”

Bereet snorted. “Nova is fine.”

“Right.” Peter scratched the back of his head, casting around for something else to say. Then again, what do you say to one of your sister’s one-night stands that you accidentally kidnapped and dragged into a gun fight.

“Ah,” Bereet exclaimed, and Peter glanced around just in time to see a hologram of Yondu’s face pop up. “You have a call.”

“No, no, no!” Peter yelped, darting forwards just as Bereet hit accept.

Peter winced, freezing in place as he heard the tell-tale crackle of the large screen behind him bursting to life. Bereet shrugged apologetically and, not for the first time that day, Peter found himself cursing Rava out inside his head.

“Peter.” Yondu growled.

Peter turned, trying to keep the wince off his face. “Yondu! I weren’t expecting a call.”

Yondu did not look impressed. “Where are you.” He demanded.

Peter laughed. “I’m on a job with Wiz and Raja. C’mon man you only gave it to me this mornin’, your memory can’t be going already.”

“Uh huh.” Yondu drawled, taking two large steps away from the camera and giving Peter an uninterrupted view of the Ravager-ship’s control room. Rava was lounging against one wall, examining her nails with a look of faux nonchalance while baby-Glim danced around her feet on their newly developed legs. Most worryingly, Kraglin was stood in the centre of the room, Wiz and Raja on their knees in front of him, his hands caught in the scruffs of their jackets.

“Rava, God!” Peter groaned. “You are such a narc.”

“And you stole my date.” Rava said, tossing a wink over his shoulder at Bereet. “If you wanted to get a girl, I could have given you some tips, baby brother, kidnapping is so…gauche.”

“I…You, that’s not!” Peter stuttered, feeling his cheeks burn scarlet at the delicate giggle from behind him. “I didn’t kidnap anyone! You left her in my ship.”

“Enough.” Yondu snarled and, even on a ship miles and miles away Peter cringed. “One chance. Quill, where are you?”

Peter swallowed and clenched his fists, staring fixedly at the point just above Yondu’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna tell you?”

Yondu’s face went a strangled shade of purple and Peter was quick to shout over the impending lecture.

“And like hell am I getting’ you those batteries now!”

“What!” Wiz yelped. “Tha’ aint fair. I held up my end o’ the bargain.”

“Hey, we said twelve hours.” Peter said, jabbing a finger towards the clock in the corner of the screen. “This look like twelve hours to you?”

“I agreed ta cover for your stupid death-wish mission, I never agree no time limit.” Wiz snapped back, attempting to struggle to his feet and giving up when Kraglin casually leaned his knee on Wiz’s shoulder.

 Most of Kraglin’s lower body was metal now. It would be like trying to shift a freezer. Raja, Peter noticed with some annoyance, appeared to be using the time to doze. Or, was possibly feigning sleep in an attempt to get out of the lecture. It wouldn’t work. Yondu could and would kick him awake if needed. Never seemed to stop the guy trying though.

Somehow the soft click of Maris entering the room cut through all other noise. Peter was reluctantly impressed. It was the same way that Yondu’s whistle shut up everyone in hearing radius. He’d been trying to figure out the trick to it for ages.

Both ships fell silent as Maris walked up to Yondu, the only sound that of her heeled boots clicking on the metal floor.

“Yondu,” She said, nodding at her captain but pinning Peter with a gimlet stare. “The scanner for the Big-Job is missing.”

Yondu’s face turned apoplectic, even as Raja deigned to crack his eyes open with a whispered “Oh, shiiiiiiiit.”

“Are you on Morag, boy?” Yondu demanded, closing back into the screen until all that Peter could see was blue skin and red eyes. “I swear to God, tell me you aint on Morag, tell me you aint actually been that stupid.”

“I’m not on Morag!” Peter squeaked, scrambling for the communicator controls. “Well, that’s an asteroid field, gotta go, see you in a couple of days, bye now!”

He slammed the line closed and slumped into the nearest seat as his legs stopped working. The communicator started buzzing again with an incoming call and Peter was careful to shift the thing out of Bereet’s reach.

Yondu would definitely know that he was ignoring the call. Peter didn’t think any of his siblings had ever actually ignored a call from Yondu. None of them were that suicidal.

Still. He clutched the orb tighter. If he was dead anyway, he might as well be dead and rich.

“You are funny.” Bereet said, her accent growing thicker with amusement. “Is this how all your calls end?”

Peter groaned. He could not wait ‘til he got to Nova.

Xxx

“He ain’t here Capt’n.”

“Really, Krags, I hadn’t noticed.” Yondu snapped, rolling his jaw and spitting on the ground. “I swear, outta all the kids why does this one gotta be such an almighty pain in my ass.”

“We gotta search party goin’ round the cliffs in case he went for a bit of a wander, ‘n I’ve had the Brood round up all the usual suspec’s.”

Yondu hummed deep in his throat, tipping his head back and eying up the miscreants that had been dragged before him.

They had all grown in the years since that bastard who had the nerve ta call himself their daddy had got what was comin’ to him and yet, somehow, they still managed to find themselves right in the middle of the latest clusterfuck.

Iln had finally managed to put on some height now that the stress of her siblings dying wasn’t stunting her growth. Her white fur had gotten fluffier and the tips of her twitching whiskers stood about level with his chin.

Haracks had put on some build and finally grown into his ears. He’d had the last of his tribal tattoos etched onto his skin nearly a month before and the open wounds were still a little swollen and tender. Wiz, by contrast, had stretched out, a lanky kid of elbows and knees and red skin that was slowly darkening into his adulthood’s maroon.

He was the only one of the lot that Yondu knew for certain knew what was goin’ on. Well, him and Raja. But Rava was seein’ that Raja got what he deserved. She was about as unimpressed with her twin as Yondu was.

Yondu turned his attention onto the little ones. They didn’t have many of them anymore. Without Ego there was no need to keep pickin’ up new ones. And no real way to find ‘em if they wanted to. It meant that, no matter how big they got, the newest pick’ups would always be classed as the little ones. And, bein’ honest, some of ‘em were getting pretty damn big.

“So,” Yondu began, eyeballing the youngest. “None of you know where Quill’s gone?”

The kids shuffled awkwardly. There was no point botherin’ with Wiz and Haracks. They’d give Peter up in a heartbeat if they knew anythin’. He mostly just got ‘em out here to watch them squirm. Iln was a toss-up. Tended to depend on which side would be more chaotic. But the little ones, they were likely to crack. And Peter had always had a soft spot for them.

“Don’t know.” Lana said, even as Glim and Nayadina rustled nervously.

“Huh.” Yondu said, pacing around them. “An’ here I thought you and Quill were thick as thieves. Bosom buddies an’ all that.”

Lana shrugged, solid and unbreakable as the mountain she resembled but Nayadina’s rustling was getting faster, and the burnt cherry taste of Glim’s guilt was growing stronger.

Yondu grinned and loomed forwards, catching Kraglin’s eyes over their shoulders’ and ignoring the eyeroll his second gave at Yondu’s dramatics.

“So, you definitely aren’t -”

“Captain!”

Yondu yanked his head round at the frantic shout of his name.

Maris was sprinting towards them, Gears close behind her as they pelted across the rocky terrain, leaping over the rubble of one of the planets deserted buildings and skidding to a stop at his side. She was trembling slightly, her rigid control meaning that the faint tremors were only just noticeable on her fingers and in the very tips of her antennae.

“What’s happened?” He barked, scanning the surroundings for danger, even as Kraglin dropped into a defensive stance and the miscreants scrambled to their feet.

“Captain.” Maris reported, falling back onto the familiarity of formality. “Gears and Objob found signs of a fight. We believe Peter was involved. It...” Maris took a shaky breath. “It appear to be the Kree, Sir.”

Lana Snarled and Glim let out an ear-splitting screech but Yondu froze, his red eyes narrowing dangerously.

The Kree. Those species killing, child-enslaving psychopaths.

And Peter.

Trouble Magnet extraordinaire.

“Shit!”

Chapter Text

The skies of Xandar had never looked so beautiful. The sun was shining, the alien-birds were singing, Peter had finally managed to ditch his sister’s one-night-stand. To be honest that part hadn’t been too difficult. He’d just parked his ship and awkwardly ushered her in the direction of the exit.

It had been a relief to get rid of her. He’d spent the rest of the trip to Nova keeping half an eye on her to make sure that she wasn’t about to pick up any more awkward phone calls.

Besides, he was on Xandar now. It would only take a moment and then he’d be back on his ship, rocketing back to the clan with a pocket full of credits and definitive proof that he shouldn’t have to wait nine months for solo missions.

He was almost whistling as he sauntered into the Broker’s workshop, orb already in his hand and grin on his face. The broker was a proper alien. Like on of the ones out of Terran Sci-Fi, all wrinkled skin and bony protrusions. He could almost have been an extra on Star Trek. Not that Peter was gonna say anything like that out loud. Somehow, Maris would find out about it, and she would kick his arse three ways to Sunday.

“Master Quill,” The Broker said, looking up from the doodad he was examining, surprise etched across his face. “I didn’t think your father allowed your lot out of the ship without supervision.”

“Not my father.” Quill groused to himself before deciding to drop it in the name of good negotiating. He flipped the orb into his other hand and held it up for inspection. “Anyway, I got the orb. As promised.”

The Broker raised one oddly-shaped eyebrow. “I made that deal with your father –”

“Not my Father.”

“—what makes you think I would trade with you?”

Peter raised his own eyebrow in return, sweeping back his still too big Ravager jacket so that the Broker could see the blaster that he kept on his belt. “My captain ain’t all that keen on people who go back on their word. A deal with me is a deal with him. You know that.”

“Very good.” The Broker announced, shooting the blaster a nervous glance and then pulling the orb closer to himself for an examination.

The silence in the workshop was almost deafening. Peter sighed to himself, resisting the urge to tap out a tune with his hands as he waited. It probably wouldn’t be very professional. But Peter could not stand the silence.

“Why’s it so special anyway?” He blurted out.

The Broker sniffed, placing his magnifying glass very carefully on the table and putting it into place next to his other tools.

“My policy is never to discuss my clients or my commissions. It is a matter of confidentiality.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter waved his hand dismissively. “Thing is, if it’s been chillin’ on some ghost planet for however many decades, why’s it so popular now? Some guy working for a bugger named Ronan almost killed me for it.”

The Broker stilled. “I’m sorry, did you say Ronan?”

“Yeah.” Peter shrugged. “Is it important?”

“Get out!” The Broker snapped, shoving the orb at his chest and hustling him backwards.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Peter yelped, stumbling over his feet as the Broker hurried at him, ranting in a high-pitched, terrified voice bout something that Peter was way to busy trying to untangle his feet to care about.

Peter yelped as he was shoved backwards through the door, fumbling with the orb and almost dropping it as the bright light stabbed at eyes that had grown used to the dingy insides of the workshop.

“We had a deal!” Peter yelled, kicking the door fruitlessly. “Ah, man.” He whined, shoulders drooping almost against his will. “Yondu is gonna kill me.”

Next to him someone laughed, and Peter scowled, turning to levy the full wrath of the Udonta Clan on whoever dared –

“Gugh.” He spluttered, ears going red as he took in the beauty in front of him. He’d never seen anyone like her. None of the gorgeous women that Rava had paraded through his ship could ever compare to her.

Everything about her was dark, the forest green of her skin, the midnight of her hair, even the deep flames of red that flickered along her curls. She was tall and lithe and absolutely stunning.

Peter coughed, rolling his shoulders and feeling the burn of embarrassment spreading along the back of his neck as he plastered on his most confident expression.

“This guy just stiffed me on a deal we had.” He explained, eyes skating across her cheekbones and fixating somewhere above her left eyebrow.

The woman tutted sympathetically, shaking her head. “On my planet, there is nothing worse than a man without integrity. You though have the bearing of a man of honour, Mr…”

“Lord, Peter Lord, I mean Star Quill, Um.” Peter spluttered. “I mean, StarLord, but most people call me Peter,” He stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you..?”

“Gamora.” The woman, Gamora, said, taking his hand and smiling at him. Then, quick as a flash, she lashed out, plucking the orb out of his other hand and sprinting off.

Peter blinked at his empty hand.

“Hey!” He yelped, slamming his heel together to activate his boots and leaping after her. Yondu really was gonna kill him. “That’s mine.”

He crashed down on top of Gamora, who had obviously seen him coming, she spun round to kick him and Peter winced at the stabbing pain in his ribs as kicked off again with the boots and came back, crashing into her and taking them both to the ground.

She hit him again, palm slamming into his nose with an audible crack and Peter hissed, grabbing at his belt as he scrabbled for the orb with his other hand. He slapped one of Wiz’s electric Bolas onto her leg just as he got hold of the orb.

“See ya.” He said, as scarlet ropes wrapped themselves around her. He jumped again, the boots taking him out of her range even as she struggled to get out of the ropes.

He cackled, pocketing the orb and taking another jump, swagger in his movements as he thought about how great a story this would make for Nayadina later.

He never even saw the net coming.

“What the!” He yelped as he was slammed back into the ground, net wrapping around him and weights dragging him down. “Lemme go, you jackarse.”

A weight landed on his back, shaking as whoever was on top of him laughed. “Not a chance.” The other person declared in a rough, nasally voice. “You’re my bounty.”

Peter frowned. There wasn’t a bounty on him. “I’m your what?”

“Bounty don’t talk, stupid.” The person said. “Groot, grab him.”

“Do not grab him!” Peter countered. “No grabbing!”

At least the orb was still in his pocket. The day was going shit already and if her was gonna be kidnapped at least when Yondu came to bail him out he’d still have the orb. Peter groaned and slammed his head into the concrete, Yondu was gonna have him on Latrine duty for like, a whole year. And Haracks was gonna be so smug. He hated it when Haracks was smug. Like, the guy was already insufferable, why add to it?

His wriggling had finally managed to do something. Not free him. But he had managed to flop onto his back, so hey! Little things.

Above him, a giant tree with a face loomed. Peter blinked. Maybe that last knock against the floor had broken something.

“Treebeard?”

The tree did not get the joke, frowning down at him with its barky face. “I am Groot.” He declared with great solemnity.

“Right.” Peter mumbled. “I have a sister who would love to meet you.”

“Hey!” The nasally voice butt in again. And the voice belonged to a Raccoon. Great. Maybe Peter really had snapped. It wasn’t like Wiz hadn’t seen it coming. Peter had just always though that Doc would be first to go. There was just something about a guy whose job involved needles.

“No befriending the merchandise!” The racoon snapped.

“I am Groot.” The tree replied.

“Yes, you are! I just saw you doing it!” Racoon snapped, gesturing between them.

Behind them the green lady had gotten back up. She did not look happy. She was also heading in their direction.

“Um.” Peter started wriggling harder. If he could just untangle to net from around his hands, he’d be home and free.

It didn’t matter. Before she reached them a golden glow surrounded them, lifting them all into the air as a projected voice announced; “By the authority of the Nova Corps you are under arrest! Drop your weapons. Resistance will be futile.”

Peter groaned, he really wished he had some solid pavement to bash his head down on. Kidnapped was one thing, but arrested? He was never going to live this down.

“Aw crap.” The Racoon grumbled.

Peter glared at him, barring his teeth in a mock smile that he had picked up from some of his more animalistic siblings. “You know, I have a sister who would love to meet you too.” He was thinking of Lana. “She has a taste for rodents.”