3

The Guardians wasted no time getting away from the Sovereign. Rocket powered up the Milano. “All right, let’s get Baldy to Xandar and collect that bounty!” he said. The Milano streaked across the sky over the magnificent capital city, then up into space. Groot, plastered to the rear window, watched wide-eyed as the planet receded behind them.

Peter left the piloting to Rocket. He needed a change of clothes after the fight. He put on some music from Awesome Mix Vol. 2 and looked around for a clean shirt. It wasn’t easy to do laundry in space.

Nearby, Gamora was putting a new pair of shackles on Nebula’s wrists. Nebula glared but did not try to resist.

“That stuff about my father,” Peter said, sulking and angry. “Who does she think she is?”

“I know you’re sensitive about that,” Gamora said with a little chill in her voice.

“I’m not sensitive about it. I just don’t know who he is.” He could tell from the look she gave him that something else was on her mind, and Peter thought he knew what it was. “Sorry if it seemed like I was flirting with the high priestess. I wasn’t.”

“I don’t care if you were,” she said, leading Nebula away toward the front of the ship.

“I feel like you do care,” he called after her. “That’s why I’m apologizing. So, sorry.”

“Gamora’s not the one for you, Quill,” Drax said from behind him. Peter jumped. He hadn’t noticed Drax standing back there in the shadows.

“There are two types of beings in the universe,” Drax said. “Those who dance and those who do not.” Peter nodded, humoring him. He wasn’t about to take romantic advice from Drax. “I first met my beloved at a war rally. Everyone in the village flailed about, dancing, except one woman: my Ovette. I knew immediately she was the one for me. The most melodic song in the world could be playing and she wouldn’t even tap her foot. Wouldn’t move a muscle. One might assume she was dead.”

“I get it. I’m a dancer; Gamora is not,” Peter said.

“You just need to find a woman who is pathetic. Like you.” Somehow, Peter didn’t feel any better.

Gamora started locking Nebula to a beam toward the rear of the Milano’s passenger compartment. Nearby was a bowl of fruit. Nebula reached for it but Gamora jerked her arm back and locked her in place with the bowl just out of reach. “I’m hungry,” Nebula said.

“No,” Gamora said. “It’s not ripe yet.”

Nebula didn’t believe her. “I hate you,” she said.

“You hate me,” Gamora echoed, starting to return to the bridge.

“You left me there while you stole that stone for yourself,” Nebula said. “And yet here you stand, a hero. I will be free of these shackles soon enough and I will kill you. I swear.” Hate shone in her black eyes even though she never raised her voice.

Gamora turned back to her. “No. You’re going to live out the rest of your days in a prison on Xandar, wishing you could.”

Suddenly, alarms sounded throughout the ship. Gamora left Nebula to head for the cockpit and see what was happening.

“This is weird,” Peter said. “We’ve got a Sovereign fleet approaching from the rear.”

Rocket was in the other pilot’s seat. Drax stood behind them. “Why would they do that?” Gamora asked as she got settled in the navigator’s seat behind Peter and Rocket.

“Probably because Rocket stole some of the batteries,” Drax said.

Rocket spun in his seat. “Dude!”

“Right,” Drax said more quietly. “He didn’t steal some of those. I don’t know why they’re out there. What a mystery this is.” His expression barely changed—Drax was a terrible liar.

The Sovereign ships opened fire all at once. Blasts of energy rocked the Milano and streaked through space on all sides. Peter threw the ship into a series of twisting evasive maneuvers, speeding away toward a jump point. There had to be one nearby.

“What were you thinking?!” Peter shouted over the impacts.

“Dude, they were really easy to steal!”

“That’s your defense?” Gamora was incredulous.

“Come on, you saw how that high priestess talked down to us. Now I’m teaching her a lesson.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize your motivation was altruism,” Peter said. “It’s really a shame the Sovereign have mistaken your intentions and are trying to kill us.”

“Exactly!”

“I was being sarcastic!”

“Oh no, you’re supposed to use your sarcastic voice! Now I look foolish!”

“Can we put the bickering on hold until we survive this massive space battle?” Gamora snapped.

“More incoming,” Peter warned.

“Good,” Rocket snarled. “I’m gonna kill some guys.” He roared and blazed away at the Sovereign ships, destroying several of them. The rest dipped and swerved, coming around for another pass at the Milano.

“You’re not killing anyone,” Gamora said. “All those ships are remotely piloted.”

Ayesha watched everything unfold from a balcony overlooking a huge space full of simulator rigs. Dozens of Sovereign were piloting the drones, shouting in frustration when their craft were destroyed.

“Admiral,” Ayesha said to the official standing next to her. “What is the delay?”

“High Priestess—the batteries,” the admiral said carefully. “They are exceptionally combustible and could destroy our entire fleet.” The admiral had told his pilots to use extreme caution for this reason. They might not be manned, but the Soverign Fleet was still extremely valuable.

“Our concern is their slight against our people. We hire them and they steal from us?” Ayesha hissed. “This is heresy of the highest order.”

The admiral nodded and spoke into a microphone linked to every remote pilot. “All command modules. Fire with the intent to kill.” FKZ58vSArtNzB43EAUxXrG2StD7bSkRGzbUXRXySrKiiiKBGxwRkn4prcHafPyU0