"Well said, Rocket. From the moment we formed the Guardians of the Galaxy, we've been a team. We don't abandon our own, and we never will!" Gamora said firmly, meeting Rocket's downcast eyes with a serious expression.
"I don't always like Quill, but for once, he's completely right," Nebula added coldly. "And your earlier refusal? That stung, Rocket. It's not the kind of thing you do to someone who shares your hatred for your enemies."
"I am Groot!" Groot's steadfast voice chimed in quickly.
"All you have to do is tell us where the enemy is, and we'll tear him apart together. Simple as that," Drax said with confidence. "Unless he is a planet—then I might need a bit more effort."
"I can help too! I'm not the best fighter, but I'll do my best!" Mantis added timidly, raising her hand.
"And me! I'm strong enough now!" Adam Warlock echoed her, mimicking her gesture.
"...I'm sorry. I was impulsive," Rocket muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he glanced around at his comrades. Their resolute expressions reminded him of the warmth he'd once shared with Lylla and the others, a warmth he'd thought lost forever. His eyes reddened as he bowed his head in shame.
The loss he had buried deep within couldn't be undone, but somehow, it had returned to him in another form—one he had failed to see before.
Rocket's guilt and anger shifted into determination. His previous mistakes, born from a lack of preparation and insufficient knowledge about the High Evolutionary, had cost his friends their lives. This time, he resolved to do things right. He wouldn't let his impulsiveness cause any more harm.
"Since everyone's decided, it's up to me as captain to make the final call," Star-Lord said, his lips curling into a confident smirk. "First, we'll track down that bastard, figure out what he's about, and then sneak in close to capture him. After that, Rocket, he's all yours. Let's show him what happens when you mess with my crew!"
"For Rocket!" the team shouted in unison, their cheers filling the ship. Even Rocket felt it wasn't the time to argue about being called a raccoon.
At this moment, the Guardians were united as never before. There were no quips, no doubts—just a shared purpose to face the unknown, powerful enemy for Rocket's sake.
(Meanwhile, the unconscious Ash muttered silently: ...What?)
---
The Guardians' ship soared toward the source of the mysterious signal. Their first priority was to investigate its origins and, more importantly, how the enemy had deduced Rocket's presence in this sector.
It was inconceivable that the High Evolutionary had broadcast the signal across the entire universe—even the most advanced civilizations couldn't afford such an endeavor. As loud as his actions were, the team doubted Rocket was worth that level of effort.
"Orgocorp? So these signals are coming from unmanned ships? They kind of remind me of the Sovereign's drones," Star-Lord mused, studying the feed from a distance as the ship observed the drones patrolling a sector. His tone was skeptical.
"You think so too?" Gamora glanced hesitantly at Adam. "But the Sovereign's drone tech can't be exclusive. Civilizations with advanced technology must have pursued similar designs."
"Wait!" Nebula's eyes narrowed as a thought struck her. "Could the Sovereign's bioengineering experiments and Rocket's modifications come from the same source? Or at least the same organization?"
"Do you remember anything about the lab where you were modified, Rocket?" she asked sharply, turning to him.
"No," Rocket admitted after a pause, closing his eyes in an attempt to dredge up old memories. The pain of those experiments was etched deeply into his mind, but so was the body's instinctive need to protect itself from trauma. The memories that surfaced were fragmented, blurred by agony. Only the moments spent with Lylla and the others stood out with clarity.
"I'm sorry," Rocket muttered after a long silence. "I can't make the connection. Maybe that bastard was tied to the Sovereign somehow, but I didn't have the means to figure it out back then."
"Let's hope they're not connected," Gamora said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her eyes returned to the feed. "We need to investigate this Orgocorp. Find out who they are and if they've had dealings with the Sovereign."
"Fine," Star-Lord said with a shrug. "Let's head to the nearest hub. Someone there has to know something. But once we're there, no one calls you Rocket, got it? Little raccoon."
Rocket opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. Star-Lord's point was valid. In the nearby star systems, the signal's content would be common knowledge. If the Guardians openly called out Rocket's name while gathering information, they'd draw unwanted attention.
For now, the priority was to learn about Orgocorp and the High Evolutionary without tipping their hand. Being discovered would ruin everything. While they could always call the Avengers for backup, that was a card best saved for emergencies. Their last SOS call during the fight against Ego wasn't all that long ago.
With Rocket begrudgingly staying silent, the Guardians set course for the nearest gathering point.
---
Hashem Star, a ruined planet-turned-spaceport, bore the same grim, scrapyard aesthetic as Knowhere. Most space hubs shared this wasteland-like appearance—temporary stops with little concern for aesthetics or safety.
In one of Hashem's seedy taverns, a small group of aliens grumbled over drinks.
"Orgocorp's drones are getting ridiculous. They've flooded the whole comms channel with their noise. It's making it hard to talk to anyone else. Isn't anyone going to deal with them?" one alien groused.
"Deal with them? Not a chance," another replied with a sigh. "Orgocorp hasn't attacked anyone yet. And even if they did, who's going to care about scrappy drifters like us? Just stay out of their way. They can't occupy every signal in the galaxy."
Hearing this, Star-Lord's eyes lit up. He strolled over with a drink in hand, affecting a look of irritation. "Orgocorp? Are they the ones behind that racket? Who the hell are they? I thought it was some distress signal, but no—it's just pointless noise. Waste of my time."
"Where are you from, backwater boy? Crawled out of some primitive rock, huh? Never heard of Orgocorp?" one of the aliens sneered, looking Star-Lord up and down.
"They that famous?" Star-Lord asked nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. His relaxed demeanor didn't falter, even as several pairs of alien eyes locked onto him.
"Listen up, newbie," the sneering alien said, puffing up his chest. "Orgocorp's one of the wealthiest outfits in this sector. Plenty have tried to take them down, but they all ended up dead—and their corpses? Turned into Orgocorp's trophies. Orgocorp made a fortune off them."
"That's it? Doesn't sound so impressive to me," Star-Lord retorted with a smirk, entirely unimpressed after witnessing battles on Knowhere, Xandar, and against Ego himself.
The alien's smug grin twisted into a scowl. Slamming his hands on the table, he stood and glared at Star-Lord. "What did you say, punk? Trying to insult me? You think I don't know anything?"
"I know you're wasting my time," Star-Lord shot back, drawing his blaster and pressing it to the alien's chin. "Care to test how much you know against this?"
"Big mistake, kid. You think this bar's the kind of place where you can just pull a stunt like that?" growled one of the alien's companions, rising with a hand on his weapon. "You've got a death wish?"
"Enough games," Rocket growled from behind Star-Lord, hefting his own weapon. "You've been eyeballing us since we walked in. What gave us away? Or should I say… what gave you away? You're with Orgocorp, aren't you?"
"Are you insane?! I'm not with Orgocorp!" the alien sputtered, but his words faltered as one of his companions grabbed his shoulder and whispered, "This place… It's their hunting ground now."
The companion raised his voice, addressing the rest of the room. "We don't want trouble! We've got nothing to do with your conflict. Just let us leave in peace, and we won't cause any disruptions!"
Star-Lord narrowed his eyes at the sudden tension, then nodded and lowered his blaster. "Get out of here."
The aliens didn't need to be told twice. Watching the Guardians warily, they quickly exited the bar.
"How'd you figure them out?" a hulking alien still in the bar asked Rocket after the intruders left.
"It's the way you looked at me," Rocket said, scanning the room for threats. "The questions came from Quill, but your eyes were on me the whole time. So, how'd you know we'd be here?"
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