Getting back to Oliver proved to be both easy as well as somewhat difficult. The chaos caused by the Grandmaster's Tower collapsing meant that it there was a stampede of fleeing people, desperate to put as much distance between them and the centre of destruction as humanly (or rather, alienly) possible. This meant that actually moving stealthily in all of this rampant chaos was somewhat difficult to accomplish.
Thankfully, the sheer state of panic currently overtaking Sakaar meant that there wasn't really all that much need for stealth. Oliver dropped down to a back alley and decloaked while Bill threw open the door. We didn't even get so much as a second glance from the fleeing aliens as I jumped into the vehicle of questionable sentience, slamming the door behind me.
"Sterns? Take us out."
"Where to?"
"Xandar."
"Aye aye, Captain."
Immediately, Oliver takes off, quickly winding through a few tight turns down ruined alleys before Sterns takes him into the sky, though we stay at around the same height as the surrounding buildings. Sterns only takes a moment to push several buttons on Oliver's extensively modified dash, before he grabs the lever at his side and gleefully slams it forwards.
Once more, our entire world is engulfed in burning blue as Space itself bows down to our whims. In a moment that stretches longer than infinity and yet is shorter than the span between seconds, we leave Sakaar in our wake, and emerge...
"Sterns? Where the hell are we?"
The Mad Scientist first spends a few seconds shutting down most of Oliver's systems, leaving only a soft glow from some parts of Oliver's dashboard to illuminate the now silent cabin. Looking out through the windshield, I can see only nothingness in our surroundings. Far off to my left there's a bright spot of light: a sun, probably several lightyears away. We are alone here, with only the gorgeous backdrop off the galaxy as a beautiful, yet far off, decor piece.
Wherever we are, it sure as hell ain't Xandar.
"Well, I could have just beamed us into the lobby of the Nova Corps, but that would have been rather... noticeable, and then creating these camo-cloaks would have been for nothing." Sterns answers easily.
"I understand that, but couldn't you have dropped us closer? The dark side of their moon perhaps?"
This time it is Bill who speaks up.
"For a man who knows so much about the Galaxy, you are certainly naïve about certain things."
I briefly glance at Bill from the corner of my eye, before it's almost automatically drawn back to the beautiful glimmering vista of greens and blues stretched out as far as the eye can see.
"I understand that, Xandar being the capital of the Nova Empire, they probably have advanced security surrounding the planet, but seriously? Oliver's capabilities, combined with interplanetary distance? You are saying even that is insufficient precaution?"
"It might be. It also might not be. Michael, Xandar lies at the heart of one of, if not the biggest empire the galaxy has seen. The technological requirements for smooth communication on such a scale probably means that they can hear a mouse fart two systems over. Even if they can't find Oliver when he's cloaked, they'll definitely know that something entered close to their home planet, and amp their security. Especially now that the empire is on high alert 'cause of the whole Kree-mess."
I sigh in defeat as I turn away from my friend, half-heartedly scanning the clouds of cosmic dust that are so vast, they appear close enough to touch, despite the fact that there's more distance between us than between the sun and the outer reaches of the solar system. I shouldn't have relied on my movie-knowledge so much. Sure, we see Rocket and Groot already on Xandar when Peter is trying to sell the Orb, apparently having gotten through customs just fine even with Rocket's arsenal. And sure, Ronan manages to surprise the Xandarians by showing up in their upper atmosphere despite piloting one of the largest ships shown in the MCU. And sure, Thanos apparently manage to succeed where Ronan failed and wiped Xandar of the Galactic Map off-screen.
So sue me for getting cocky and thinking that we could just barge in as well. Of course the rules of logic would throw a wrench in my plan by reminding reality that you couldn't be the centre of an interstellar galactic empire with a security system that shitty.
Come to think of it, why on Earth did the Guardians think that leaving the Power Stone with the Nova Corpse was a good idea to begin with, when all of them slipped past their security forces multiple times and literally just witnessed the entire planet almost getting destroyed?
"You know what? Fine. We'll do it your way."
"Of course we are." Sterns says smugly, before he activates thrusters all over Oliver's body, angling us towards a tight cluster of stars, before gaining a worryingly large grin again.
"God I love doing this."
And with those words, he slams the lever forwards, and our world turns to blue again.
As it turns out, Sterns dropped us back into regular Space on the edges of the inner ring of tri-solar system around which Xandar orbited. This still left us at nearly an Astronomical Units (the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the sun, equalling almost 150 million kilometres) away from our targets. With Oliver's rockets being supplied by the Tesseract, we should be there within about nine hours, completely undetected to the myriad of satellites and measuring facilities of the Nova Empire. Instead of going over 16 million kilometres an hour in real space, Sterns' used Oliver's Tesseract-engine, to instead bend space around us.
It wasn't slamming through a portal like we did when we entered and left Sakaar, this was more... trawling through a narrow tube. Or something like that. Sterns tried to explain, and while I could initially follow him, he eventually got exited and started talking so enthusiastically and fast, he might as well be speaking another language entirely (for all that I knew, he just might have been).
While travelling like this was way slower, at least it would be far less detectable: at most, an observant Xandarian might see fluctuations in the background static of the universe, but it would hardly be anything worthy of concern.
Given that going over the plan for when we actually landed on Xandar only took us about ten minutes (and that was because I insisted we go over it twice) we ended up with a lot of time on our hands as we slowly cruised towards our destination.
Eventually we ended up filling that time with playing "I spy".
Finally, after four and a half hours, we saw Xandar far away on the horizon (as much as you can actually have a horizon in the depths of space that is), like a shiny blue marble. Despite it being only slightly larger than Earth while being a Galactic hub of communication and transportation, it had far less space trash than Earth did.
While Earth was encased in a thin layer of metal and debris, Xandar only sported about half a dozen truly massive space-stations, as well as about 200 smaller stations and satellites, thousands and thousands less than what Earth currently had in order to provide only for itself and the few satellites within the solar system. Of course, with advanced technology comes more powerful satellites as well as better options for clearing up space trash, but the level of care that Xandar dedicated to keeping even its exosphere neat and tidy said a lot about its people.
And it's tech-level.
Still, even an advanced alien civilisation wasn't capable of going toe-to-toe with Sterns' greatest pride, and after dropping out of our Tesseract-induced piece of distorted Space (which I ended up calling a Boom-tube and the name stuck) a few hundred kilometres away from Xandar's outer reaches, we soundlessly glided past the viewing port of the largest space station, completely unnoticed.
It takes a human spaceshuttle about 150 seconds to go from the ground to outer space. Oliver, being the pride and joy of the most dangerous man humanity has ever produced (thanks to yours truly), could make mincemeat out of that. Unfortunately, we couldn't go anywhere near those kinds of speeds, due to the vast, varied and powerful scanners of the Xandarians keeping an eye on their pristine planet. As a result, and in order to keep Oliver's cloaking intact (we could be invisible all we wanted, but if we went fast enough to cause enough friction to start burning the air around us, the Xandarians were still going to notice something was up) we had to slow down.
A lot.
Still though, within twenty minutes, I set foot upon the soil of Xandar, breathing in its clean sky. After overlooking the surrounding forests and meadows with a critical eye, and sweeping the surrounding area for any sentient minds, I turn towards my companions.
"Alright then. We all know what to do: let's get to it."
"Sure thing Michael."
"Indeed."
Entering the city centre was fairly easy, due to the massive amount of sentients that moved in and out of its confines. All the three of us had to do was move along with the flow of the river of people, our bodyshapes barely even getting a second glance from hurried passerby's. Several Star Blaster's sheered by close overhead, causing us to tense the first few times, but whatever their destination, they didn't seem to bothered with the massive amount of people below. There seemed to be only a very slight Nova Corpse presence on the ground, which was rather baffling when you considered that this planet had almost twice the amount of people on it that Earth did... and that's without the people who are just passing through!
Then again, I certainly hadn't expected this city to be so clean. Yeah, it looks tidy and all in GotG, but I'm standing in the middle of what appears to be one of the main squares of the city, hordes of people rushing past as Bill, Sterns and I slowly take a seat on the edge of one of the many fountains that can be found all over the megacity.
And yet, the air here tastes and smells as fresh as when it did far up in the mountain ranges.
Say whatever you want about the Xandarians, but they sure as hell got the management of the public sphere completely mastered.
"Alright guys, I got a map of the entire city here. We are currently here." Sterns speaks up, holding a holographic screen up for me and Bill, a small red dot in the centre.
"The main library, where I'll be going, is here." He continues, as a green line quickly forms from the dot to a cluster of buildings closer to the centre of the city.
"The main communication portals for the less... legal off-world contacts, including the mercenary and bounty hunter message boards, are located here."
A blue line forms over the map, heading off to an area that's closer to the outer edges of the city limits.
"Now, from what I managed to dig up, which was a lot, considering most of this is public information, your location is located in the less savoury neighbourhood, but considering the rest of this city, I'm not really sure if that's saying much."
Bill shrugs, before elaborating when he sees mine and Sterns' questioning looks.
"Xandar has a reputation for being the crowning achievement of civilisation all over the Galaxy. You won't find any slums on this planet. That being said however, off-world business that they don't exactly approve of, but do not actively oppose, is something they rather have stay out of sight. Meaning no Nova Corps presence, and a majority alien population. As far as command is concerned, so long as they're not making any notable mess, that part of town simply does not exist. Of course, that works just fine for the more respectable crews, like the better kind of Ravagers. The real scumbags don't even get to set foot on the planet, the crews already operating here too scared that the Nova Corps gets too annoyed and shuts down this little arrangement if they do. They effectively police themselves. So yes, it won't be a slum as most of those type of places usually are, but don't expect the type of civilisation you see here: someone pulls a blaster on you, you either make sure that you drew yours first, or you and your credits will be easily parted. Or you and your head. Depends on the day, really."
"Right! So no worries then!" Sterns says brightly, as he closes the holographic map and stand up, brushing off his camo-cloak.
"So, how you wanna meet up again later Michael?"
"Don't worry. Me and Bill will come to the library. If you haven't found the coordinates of Morag by then, we can help you look. If you did find it before we are finished with our business, well, then there's no reason to not brush up on our knowledge of the wider known Galaxy when we just so happen to stand within one of the most premier libraries in said Galaxy, now is there?" I say with a small smile, getting a grin from Sterns, who is already looking forwards to burying himself in mounds of alien knowledge.
"Ha! I'll be done within five minutes! By the time you guys get your asses over there, I'll already be fluent in both Rhalidian and Zilzi!" he boasts, before he struts off towards Xandar's library, throwing a cheeky wave over his shoulder as he leaves.
Bill and I remain seated on the low edge of the fountain for a few moments, just looking at the eggheaded scientist with a raised eyebrow, before I turn to face the cybernetic warrior sitting next to me.
At my unspoken question, Bill gives another shrug.
"The former are a race with tentacles instead of a mouth. The latter are a conglomerate of sub-organisms. Honestly, I didn't even realize they had a language."
"Knowing Sterns, they might not have. That won't stop him though."
With those words, I stand up, briefly stretching as Bill follows my lead, before I turn on my heel and start striding with purpose towards my destination, Sterns' map memorized the moment I had looked at it.
"C'mon, let's go. Maybe we'll get back in time before Sterns reads through the entirety of the Nova Empire's library."
It takes a few moments before I can hear Bill's feet following me in my footsteps, and I don't need to look over my shoulder to know that the alien is shaking his head.
"Oh ancestors, how did I end up with these mad-men?"
I just grin and keep on walking.
Bill wasn't wrong when he said that the less savoury parts of Xandar might as well not be part of the greater whole at all. It isn't just in the subtly different architecture, or in the more noticeable grime that you'd expect to find in a mega-city, but it's the very air itself.
Where the air in Xandar's centre is clean and breezy, here it's thick and cloying, carrying the scents of afterburners and people with it.
It's even worse when we step into the Xilid's Tail (a bipedal species without any tail whatsoever, or so Bill tells me), smoke hitting me in the face as if it were a physical curtain. Looking over the dingy cantina, with its poor lighting and rugged patrons, I can't help a large grin spreading over my face.
It's as if every single cantina in every single Star Wars media was condensed into a single place, and then re-fitted to match the MCU style. Meaning leather-clad thugs were playing cards around a circular table with blasters hanging from their hips, but with enormous holographic screens lining the back wall (honestly doing more for the lighting than the tubes lining the ceiling did).
I try to move to the terminals where people can put up job requests and bounties with some measure of grace, trying to not knock into someone on my way there. However, due to my size (and not to mention this being a cinematic universe) it's an inevitability.
It's a non-human looking guy, either the same species that got it nose abused by Groot in the first GotG movie, or something close to that. It's somewhat hard to tell due to his duster and wide-brimmed hat. It's not even like he's trying to be a douche or something, obviously walking into me as an excuse for a fight, like you see so often in movies. He's simply just taking his order from the bar (three large mugs with a hissing green liquid in them) when I approach, and the moment I'm behind him he turns around to return to his seat, causing the two of us to crash into each other.
Amazing reflexes or not, in such a tight space there's not much that I can do, and I only succeed in not getting any of the green stuff on myself. The downside of that, of course, is that it is now all over him instead.
The crash is loud enough (and perhaps he is notorious enough) that the surrounding patrons immediately fall silent, eager anticipation on their varied faces as they look on while the huge alien looks down at his ruined duster.
Looking up from his soaked clothes in order to gaze into my eyes (being the first person in quite a while that I've met that doesn't need to look up in order to do so. In fact, he's just a tad larger than I am), I can already tell that I'm not going to talk my way out of this.
Briefly I consider the Mind Stone, but I dismiss the idea. While it would make my life easier in the short term, there were a lot of spectators. They'd become suspicious if what appeared to be a well known heavy hitter ended up backing down from a fight without an apparent reason, which might get to the wrong people (literally anyone even remotely connected to Thanos or his forces). Of course, I could just mind-whammy everyone inside (minus Bill), but that'd be even more suspicious.
No, best to rely on the Stones as little as possible when around aliens with access to the intergalactic communications network. That way I can be assured of flying underneath Thanos' radar.
By the time I've settled on a course of action, the brute in front of me has worked through the events of the past few seconds, and now anger clouds his eyes.
"You owe me a new coat."
Still trying to defuse the situation, I keep my arms loose at my side, palms open and visible, while my voice is smooth and calming.
"That seems fair. How many units do you need to take care of the damages?"
The blue-skinned alien narrows his pig-like eyes for a moment, before he gives a wide grin, showing off flat yellowed teeth.
"10,000 units."
Despite myself, I can't quite keep myself from scoffing.
"That's ridiculous and you know it."
"It ain't ridiculous. This was a very nice coat. My Ma gave it to me. It's got sentimental value. 10,000 units, reparation for the physical and the emotional damage."
"Really? You, emotional?" I ask with a raised eyebrow, causing the thug to let out a deep chuckle as he cracks his wrists, his biceps straining the leather around his arms to their absolute limits.
"What can I say? I'm just an emotional kinda guy."
"Well, if that's the case, then I apologize. That must have hurt."
Confusion replaces the earlier anger in his small eyes, as he tilts his head at me.
"Huh? What hurt?"
"This."
And with that, my arm shoots up, my hand closing around the right side of his head. He has just enough time to widen his eyes, before I flare my strength and slam his head into the bar, shattering its surface, and leaving a respectable dent. Straightening the alien in my grasp, I see that he's still conscious, causing me to give a dissatisfied frown.
This time, I put more effort in and slam him halfway through the bar.
He doesn't remain conscious after that one.
I hear movement behind me, and a quick glance shows me that two aliens have pulled their blasters out and are aiming it at my back. The rest of the customers seems wary of me, but thankfully not eager to jump in on the action. Refocusing on the two aliens, I can see they're wearing the same type of duster as the big guy I just put down... and as one shifts, the light of the holographic screens behind him briefly illuminates the flame like pendant pinned to his chest.
Fuck.
Ravagers.
"You asshole! What the hell did ya need to do that for, huh!?" the guy on the right says, fairly humanoid looking if not for the fact that his species apparently saw no need to evolve a nose.
Placing one hand on my hip and rubbing the back of my head with the other, I give a self-conscious chuckle.
"Well, I might have slightly overreacted a tiny amount-"
"Are you kidding me! You ruined my bar! You got any plans for paying for that?!" I hear the bartender call out behind me in anger, and looking over my shoulder, I can see that he's holding the intergalactic cousin of the double gauge shotgun.
It looks rather intimidating, I'll give him that much.
"Of course sir. I'll pay for the damages to your bar. However, I cannot do so if those two gentlemen insist on shooting me, as I will then be on the run from the Nova Empire."
"You mean you'll be too dead to pay 'im!" the alien on the left yells out, appearing much like a regular human.
If that human filed his teeth to points, that is.
This time, I smile while my eyes turn into burning inferno's, something in the look causing the two would-be shooters to suddenly blanch white (and for most of the other patrons to quickly avert their heads as well).
"No..." I say patiently, allowing my grin to grow wider.
"I mean that, if you shoot me, I'll decorate the inside of this cantina... with your insides. Now, the Nova Empire tolerates a lot, but even they will have no choice but to jump in at that point, and that of course will force me to commit mass-murder, arson and wholesale destruction of government property again, after which I'll have to find another system to find some peace and quiet. It's just so much hassle over a couple of spilled drinks, wouldn't you agree?"
The whole time that I had been talking, the two unfortunate Ravagers had been looking steadily more and more scared out of their minds, causing me to use much of my rather considerate willpower in order to not burst out into laughter on the spot. Instead, I keep up my threatening act.
"So what say you to the following: I buy you three a new round of drinks, I go my way, you go your way, and that way you won't be screaming as you die in horrible and inventive new ways. Hmm?"
For a moment, the two seem willing to back down, before they look at the other patrons in the club, and their eyes harden. Apparently, they dislike the idea of losing face in front of their colleagues even more than actually losing their face.
Metaphorically of course, I wouldn't do that... unless they really pissed me off.
"You're bluffing." The guy with the filed teeth hissed, and he and his comrade both straighten their arms as they prepare to shoot.
However, before they can do so, a bronze-skinned hand clamps down on each head, gripping with enough force to lift them bodily off the floor, causing the two would-be murderers to cry out in pain as they drop their guns and start clawing at the vices around their scalps.
"I'd prefer it if you wouldn't shoot my friend. We're supposed to be taking it easy. Razing a city wasn't on the agenda, and I'd like to keep it that way." Comes the deep bass from Beta-Ray Bill, whose looking between the two trapped Ravagers with an annoyed look, before he fixes me with an exasperated gaze.
"You couldn't abstain from violence for just ten minutes? Really?"
I sputter in protest at his accusing gaze.
"You heard him! 10,000 units, just for some spilled drinks?! That coat couldn't have been more than a 100 units when it was brand new, and forgive me for doubting whether his mother actually made it-"
"She did though." A reedy voice pipes up from my left, causing me to turn to the aged speaker (an old woman with deep indigo eyes and blue teeth) with a surprised look, earning me a shrug.
"I know her from way back. Owns a clothes shop. Made that one for him when he set out to join the Ravagers."
"Oh." I say in surprise, before I look down at the unconscious alien in question, who still has his head embedded in the bar.
"Well, now I feel bad."
"Don't." The aged woman says with a snort as she puts her feet up on the table.
"She's a bitch, and the two of them never got along. Pretty sure she made that coat after taking it off someone's corpse as well."
"Ah, thanks. That makes me feel better about myself."
"Still, wasn't really a need to put Jando's head through the bar, now was there? Seems a bit harsh, is all I'm sayin'." The aged woman says with a grin, causing my shoulders to slump.
"See? Even the criminals agree with me." Bill says with a faintly triumphant expression, causing me to wave him away with an annoyed glare (only succeeding in making him look even more triumphant).
With the tension broken, I hope to put this all behind me and save whatever little shreds of anonymity remain, but Jando's little friends seem determined to just ruin my whole day.
"You fucker! You think you're gonna get away with this? We've seen your face, you asshole! We'll find you! We'll track you down! We're gonna kill you and everybody you know! Wait 'till our Captain hears about this, he'll-"
"Oh? I'll do... what, exactly? Careful what your next words are gonna be, son. I don't like being told what I should or should not do." A voice speaks up from the shadowed VIP-sections off to the side, immediately quelling the murmuring of the cantina, causing a deathly quiet to fall over the room.
Jando's friends look even more scared of the new speaker than they are of me or Bill, and I don't really blame them. Most people would have that reaction when that particular voice called out to you.
Me?
I'm just fanboying as I turn towards the VIP-area, the Ravagar Captain emerging from the smoke and shadows, his stance loose and unconcerned as he slowly approaches me with a lopsided smile, his swagger signifying to all that this was a man you did not fuck with.
"Normally, a man treats one of my boys the same way you did with Jando here, and I'd throw their body into the nearest sun. But, I happen to dislike Jando. And I happen to like you. Never seen a guy move like you did. With that kind of skill, strength and speed... you'd make a fine Ravager. Come. Pay Jando and his friends what you owe them for the drinks and the coat, and ol' Caskarr here for his bar. Then come speak with me. I'm interested in what kind of stories a guy who regularly engages in mass-mayhem has to tell!"
And with that, Sly Stallone turns on his heel, leaving me awe-struck as I look at the retreating back of Stakar Ogord.
After paying the disgruntled barkeep and after Bill releases Jando's friends (and paying them too, adding a few dozen units for "emotional damages") the Korbinite and I join Stakar at his table where he's seated with a few of his lieutenants. While Sly was a huge part of my childhood when I grew up in my previous life (alongside that other major War God in the Modern Pantheon by the name of Schwarzenegger) I managed to keep myself from outwardly fanboying due to superior impulse control, as well as the fact that I've met several celebrities in this new life (though they aren't exactly celebrities here, apart from Stark).
After convincing Stakar that, no, I wasn't a Jovian like Charlie-27 (a man a head taller than I was, which was normal for his species) but rather a mutated humanoid from Earth, Bill and I started trading stories with the legendary captain and his crew.
The mood got increasingly better as the day wore on and the alcohol consumption increased accordingly (though it didn't do much for me or Bill), while I told them about some of my exploits, like pitting two ancient hidden shadow organizations against each other by pretending to be part of both, or how one of my friends brought back a species from extinction and then gave it increased intelligence and the ability to breathe fire.
Bill at first told about his earliest experiences, before he became the Beta-Ray, and while his stories of his service in the Korbinite Armed Forces seemed to do well with Stakar and a few of his other, older looking officers, the younger and rowdier Ravagers were more interested in his time as a gladiator on Sakaar.
Bill was understandably reluctant to talk about that darkest period of his life, but when he glanced at me, I gave him a subtle nod, imploring him with my eyes. It always pays to know a guy with the power and connections that Stakar does. I wouldn't push Bill to tell about the time he spent in captivity, but if it helped our standing with these elite-Ravagers, then I sincerely hoped that he would do so.
The Korbinite Champion gave a deep sigh, before he slowly began talking about a few of his earlier battles, when he still had hope and his opponents had honour. His slow cadence, grave tone and deep voice easily pulled in his audience, making them completely entranced as he told them of glorious gladiator matches, even if Bill himself was unaware of it, reliving his memories as he told them.
While Bill was keeping the attention of Stakar's crew on himself, Sly leaned over to where I was sitting next to him, pinning me with a heavy stare.
"Now then, Terran. What brings a guy like you all the way out here? You're far from home, but you're hardly a stowaway like those few others of your kind who made it beyond their own little system. No, I look at you and I see a man with a plan: you want to be here. Why?"
Looking at Stallone from the corner of my glowing eyes, I give him a small grin.
"Well spotted. I'm here because I'm looking for someone. Well, a few someones."
"Someone I need to be concerned with?" Stakar asks with a small frown, his mind leaping to his own crew, apparently not enthused by the idea that I'm here for him or one of his own.
I shrug my shoulders as I keep a nonchalant expression.
"Well, it's just the three people really. Two of them are freelancers: no crew or allegiance. I want them on my payroll. And considering just what I'm willing and able to pay, those two would be all too willing to be on said roll."
Stakar hums in thought as his eyes glide across the bar before they settle back on me. For a moment, he thinks things over, unaware that I can look in on his thought process, though there's a distortion of light surrounding his innermost thoughts that I cannot pierce without using enough force to leave everyone in this bar comatose and alerting all of Xandar.
It's likely a result of his physiology rather than any mental training or ability. In the movies it's never made clear just what Stakar is, other than that he's a respected Ravager Captain, but in the comics he had powerful light-based abilities. Judging by the way the glow from his shoulder... thingies pulse and shift in concert with his thoughts, and I'm inclined that he has something similar in the MCU.
After thinking things through, Sly turns back towards me with a calculating gaze.
"What's their names? Maybe I can reach out to them, convince them to take the job. Trust me, mercs don't like being kept on retainer indefinitely. They want a job, after which they get their pay and they can get the hell outta dodge. They'll do bodyguard ops, sure, but you don't strike me as the type of guy who needs it. So, let me contact them. If it comes through me, they're likelier to take the job with less of a fuss. Keeps the costs down as well, which I take is a good thing, considering your... aversion to people overpricing you." Stakar says with a sly grin, his eyes flitting over to the large hole in the bar.
Coughing in my fist, as I give a shrug and a half-nod.
"Thank you, Captain Ogord. It would mean a lot to me if you were willing to do that."
Stallone waves away my thanks as he leans back into his chair and starts downing his glowing orange drink, smacking his lips with a satisfied look on his face before his gaze refocuses on me.
"What's their names?"
"They are called Rocket and Groot."
"Hmmm... I vaguely recall some freelancer by the name of Rocket. Mostly cause it comes up a lot in reports regarding large scale destruction. You must like living dangerously if you wanna hire a guy like that. Ain't my call though, and it sure as hell ain't my problem. You wanna hire a nutcase, then that's your business."
And with those words, he downs the rest of his drink, before slamming the empty glass on the table and signalling a passing waitress for a refill.
"And the third one?"
"A member of my species, actually. I hope to find him and bring him home. I think it would be good for him: he is being missed."
Stallone grins as he raises his refilled glass to his lips.
"Another Terran, huh? He look like you, or like normal folk? Can't really help you either way, don't know many Terrans... unless..." slowly, Stallone comes to a halt, looking deep into his glass.
I can tell that he's getting suspicious by the way that his thoughts become angrier and more guarded (literally. The glow now encompasses most of his thoughts), though his face remains completely even.
"Who the hell are you? And why the fuck are you here?"
Realizing from his thoughts and tone that I should be very careful, I reply in a calming tone of voice.
"As I said: I am Michael McCole. I am from Terra. I have come to Xandar because I wish to learn more of the Galaxy and because I wish to find three people. The two mercenaries I have mentioned and the Terran by the name of Peter Quill. He was taken from his family 24 years ago by a Ravager by the name of Jondu Udonta. Your former crewmate and friend."
For a moment, Stallone simply remains quiet, though his thoughts get increasingly darker the longer he stays silent. Thankfully, the rest of his crew is still completely engrossed in yet another of Bill's stories, this one apparently detailing one of his matches in which he fought four different opponents simultaneously while he was unarmed.
The Grandmaster had apparently wanted to make things "you know, uhh, more interesting. More of that... uhh... that, the really good stuff, understand?".
"You sure know a lot 'bout this kid." Stakar says slowly, looking up at me with a closed-off expression.
"Like I said: he is missed back on Terra."
"And your intentions with this Quill boy?"
"Just to take him home, sir. I know who Jondu kidnapped those children for, Captain Ogord. He is a very dangerous being: if he were to step foot on this planet, every single living organism would perish and there's nothing anybody would be capable of doing about it. Jondu broke the Code by selling that monster children, sending them towards their deaths, and you were right to excommunicate him for that. But he kept Peter. Tried to teach him the ways of the Galaxy, brought him up on her darker side, so he knew what the world was really like. He did what he could to keep the little human boy he kidnapped off the radar of his employer, to keep yet another child's death from his consciousness. But he can't protect him from this man, Captain Ogord. He is searching, tirelessly, for what he believes is his right, and should he claim it... all life in the galaxy will be extinguished. Yondu cannot keep that from happening, cannot keep Peter Quill, keep us, safe. You asked me why I am here? I am here to save the universe. You can aid me, or stand in my way, but I will save everyone regardless, Captain Ogord." I say, pressing my mind against his as much as I am able to while still keeping it hidden from the other sentients present.
Stakar rolls over my statement in his head, his eyes never leaving mine. I can tell that he's starting to believe me (or at least, partially), but he's not entirely sold yet.
"Peter Quill. He's just a Terran that Jondu picked up. One of hundreds. What makes this one special? If all the others died, and we're all still here, then what's it about one random Terran that would allow Jondu's... employer to wipe out the Galaxy?"
I dislike revealing this much, but contacting Peter through Stakar's contacts will not only make everything go a lot smoother (hopefully), but it would also mean that Stakar (somewhat) trusts me, which could end up being very useful down the line.
"Tell me something, Captain. What do you know... about Celestials?"
Fun Fact: The soundtrack album "Awesome Mix, Vol. 1" reached number one on the US Billboard 200 chart, the first film soundtrack ever to reach number one without a single original song. It was also nominated at the 2015 GRAMMY Awards for Best Soundtrack.
AN: Originally, I indented for this chapter to include Bill and Michael to meet up with Sterns, to recruit Rocket, Groot and Peter, get the Power Stone, and arrive back on Earth where there's a massive surprise waiting for them (and you guys). However, first Jando showed up outta nowhere, and then suddenly, somehow, Sylvester freakin' Stallone managed to show up as well! I swear to god, my actual chapters never have the common decency to follow the script that I've written. Anywhoo, I could increase this chapter, but we're past 6K, it's late and I'm exhausted, so I'm cutting it here. Hope you enjoyed!
Also! I already mentioned this in the latest update over on The New God of Earth, but I made some slight changes in my Patronage system!
1$ Tier – Awesomenauts: Get a shout-out in all my stories!
2$ Tier – Galactic Admirals: Vote on the next update, and even on story titles!
5$ Tier – Universal Monarch: Ask for commission work once a month!
20$ Tier – Dimensional Overlords: Get ALL the goodies! Be involved in my writing from start to finish! (Honestly, if you're part of this Tier I'm just about willing to give you my firstborn)
Since I'm still new to all that, please let me know your thoughts. Should I change the benefits, or maybe change the Tiers? I don't know, so let me know what you guys think! Stay awesome.