13532/Brood Invasion: A Reunion

Brood Invasion: A Reunion
Date of Scene:	21 June 2021
Location:	Milano - Lower Deck
Synopsis:	Gamora is welcomed back to the Milano. Rocket continues repairs on the crippled Milano, and Peter goes to his quarters to revise a Shi'ar contract.
Cast of Characters:	Star-Lord, Gamora, Rocket Raccoon
Tinyplot:	Brood Invasion

---

Star-Lord has posed:
A reunion. In the middle of a space warzone. Most people would meet in a bar, or some tournament. With this team, maybe even on a contract.

Today, Star-Lord is having a chat with Gamora in a wrecked Milano as Rocket and Shi'ar technicians do repairs. It's a larger corvette, but it's heavily modified... which means custom parts. Which means a longer than usual repair rate.

Peter leads Gamora onto the Milano and the lower deck, where most of the damage by the boarders has been repaired, with superficial damage here and there. There is no one around, but the sounds of repair equipment can be heard, including matter relicators.

Eventually, Star-Lord hits the button that raises the boarding ramp, and he turns around, waiting for it to close up.

Then, he gives her a warm, welcoming grin, "I'm sorry for that reception, but I didn't want to presume... especially in front of strangers. Our business is not their business." He moves forward then and gives Gamora a warm hug, his arms encircling her just a bit possessively, "I missed you."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora returns the hug after a moment's confusion, letting her arms slide around him, "I...appreciate your respect for our privacy," she says. "I thought perhaps I'd angered you, going off on my own. You have a tendency to be a bit...unpredictable. But that seems to be true of most earth creatures, as we've found."

She has her blasters on her hips and a pair of swords criss-crossed on her back, her wary, wicked strength contained for the moment. She expended a lot of her violent urges on her solo mission and is feeling...if not at peace. She's never at peace. But at least close to content.

"I hope the Shi'ar paid well. They certainly have enough resources."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    Is there a feeling between elation that the Shi'ar empire seems to have forgotten about something involving a freighter, enough fuel to keep a small fleet of ships from running dry, and a deal that involved some bamboozling and blaster fire... and the knowledge that the Shi'ar are now, quite legitimately, crawling all over the ship with no way to stop them? Yes, yes there is. That feeling is called "Fan-frickin'-tastic" as so eloquently expressed quite frequently by the resident pint-sized furry maniac. Rocket seems to consider it a personal slight that he has to allow Shi'ar technicians anywhere near the Milano, and his mood hasn't improved from the moment he had to come tell Quill that all the booze was gone and incidentally they didn't have power for the weapons. And a disgruntled Rocket is an obstinate Rocket, which is why the Shi'ar techs can be seen replacing hull panels and scrubbing minor actuators without ever setting foot on the actual ship.

    "'scuse me, comin' through here, outta the way..." says what appears to be a random pile of mismatched parts teetering into the lower deck area, adroitly weaving around obstructions and, if it must, people's legs. "'Ey Green, when'd you sneak back on board?"

    The pile of parts disappears moments later as Rocket crawls through an access hatch, starting yet another repair.

Star-Lord has posed:
"We went into a sector of space with a distress signal right near their borders, right next to Brood space. It was pretty easy to pull 'free repairs' from the contract. Especially after they learned what was going on." Peter releases her from his hug, then looks to Rocket as he crawls into a hatch, "There's an Imperial Guardsman incharge of this whole thing. They're building a war front now, but they don't know how many Brood ships got in." He looks serious for a moment, "Gam, they have the entire row of listening posts for this sector gone. This is big. Invasion big."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora smirks at Rocket as he goes by, "Hello yourself. Just arrived, I hitched along with the Shi'ar on their way here to meet you. Still looking like a hairball coughed up by a Rigellan turbo mole, I see," she says, almost fondly.

"Not sure I like the sound of the Shi'ar gearing up for war anymore than the sound of the Brood gearing up for war. Neither one of them has a habit of leaving friendly, free worlds in their wake, do they?"

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Should see me on a bad fur day." Rocket retorts to Gamora from somewhere inside the ducting, accompanied by the sound of metal being fused together. A few moments later, his head appears out of another hatch, underneath the coffee maker... repair priorities, y'know.

    "Yeah yeah, invasion big. But I'm askin' ya, is it Units big too? If I'm gonna hafta bolt the ship back together every other day, there'd best be a payday somewhere along the line, 'cause I don't work fer free." And then the hatch slams shut as Rocket's head withdraws, and the sound of welding and fusing resumes. A few moments later, the coffee dispenser rumbles to life and dispenses a cup of what may be coffee, may be super-concentrated sludge.

Star-Lord has posed:
"Better alive and able to get out of the Imperium then enslaved Brood chow." Peter points out, before he looks to Rocket, "Are you complaining about free repairs now?" He has an amused tone as he looks into the hatch itself, "I'm negotiating with Smasher about being put on retainer for the duration of this new war, but I wanted to get input before I closed out on anything."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora nods, "Repairs are good, but we can't eat repairs. Or buy weapons with repairs. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for trying to do good as much as we can, but we can't do it as charity cases. We need to take care of ourselves along the way," she says.

She puts a hand against Quill's chest, "Not that I'm backseat piloting. I know you have...done your best," she says. She makes a bit of a face. Being nice isn't easy for her, but she's trying to be better at it. A little. "Retainer would be good if the pay's decent, but I'm wary of how much loyalty they might expect. Shi'ar's are Imperials. Things they 'rent' tend to end up 'owned'."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    There's a loud 'HAH!' from the ducting and another hatch opens, this time much higher up, from which Rocket half emerges while brandishing a exospanner. "It's free repairs for you, Quill. For me it's three days of hard, thankless, unpaid work. Don't see you wieldin' a spanner around here." And then suddenly, he stops, blinking once and looking at Gamora. They agreed! How long has that been?! He looks at her for a moment, and then back at Star-Lord, with a puzzled expression as if he doesn't quite understand what just happened. And then, when Gamora brings up the whole point of loyalty for rent, he actually crawls out of the panel and onto the counter top, helping himself to that cup of coffee...

    Sip.

    "I'm with Green, Quill. Don't like the idea of these goons thinkin' they can just order us around just 'cause they're payin' us to follow orders."

Star-Lord has posed:
"Gam, Rocket, you know we have the Milano as our base of operations specifically to /stop/ situations like that, right?" Peter offers in his best placating tone as he brings up his hands to his hips, "I've made it very clear that we're independent contractors. Part of the deal is we get intel and then go where we see fit to help fight the Brood. The pay is great, and I think I can get more out of Smasher."

He moves to sit down on a crate, "Rocket, if you want your cut from this fiasco, all you gotta do is ask. I was just paid and was waiting for you to be free."

He looks to Gamora and raises a brow, "you all trust me, right?" Right?

Gamora has posed:
Gamora puts her hands on her hips, "You we trust, Quill. Them, not so much. But if you think you've gotten a good deal out of them, I'll take your word for it. And if they try to get more out of us than they bargained for, well, we can give them more then they bargained for right back," she says, patting the blaster at her hip.

"I hope you haven't let anyone use my quarters. I'm going to be very put out if anybody's gone through my things. That includes both of you," she says, then pointing a finger at Rocket, "If any of my weapons are missing, I'm going to take their weight out of your fuzzy ass."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    Still sipping the coffee, Rocket gives a dismissive wave when Star-Lord brings up money. "Nah, never thought you'd hold out on me Quill, I know where you sleep." He says it in the usual bantering tone that makes it more than likely he's not serious. Likely. Probably...

    Sip.

    "If you trust Smasher, then that's it. Don't need to say no more. But if they got us tryin' to take out somethin' other 'n Brood, or expect us to sneak across the border for some espionage... well, that's gonna be extra, 's all I'm sayin'." For a few moments he contemplates the liquid in the cup and then gives Gamora his best imitation of a smile. "All your stuff is right where you left it. Promise." Because he's going to make abso-frickin'-lutely sure it is before she gets a chance to check.

Star-Lord has posed:
"If I try to put a door locker on your quarters, you know he's just gonna take it apart if he really wants to get in." Peter offhandedly comments to Gamora. "As for Smasher... he actually has a first job for us. They're not holding very well a bit far from here and one of their border worlds is sieged. They want us to get in, secure the starport, and assist the evacuation effort. He has two other offers, but honestly, that's the best paying one and the one that doesn't involve us rescuing VIPs. He tried to saddle me with a 'if the VIPs are dead, half pay' stipulation on those, if you can believe it. Like timing out of our control should be a factor. He's at least offering more neutral jobs now."

He chuckles, "but yeah, it's not that I 'trust' him, but I've worked with him before, he deals in good faith. We can trust his honor."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora does the 'eye point' gesture at Rocket and then nods to Peter, "Their definition of VIPs and my definition of VIPs is probably different anyway. I'm not about to throw anybody off of a lifeboat because some weapons dealer has bought himself a special protection pass from the local Imperial official," she says.

"Honor, huh? Yeah. Not really sure I believe in that anymore. But it's cute that you try."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    Rocket gives an innocent shrug at Gamora, doing his best to act as if he knows absolutely nothing about anything that may or may not have gone missing at some point in the unspecified past. But then he hears the dirty word and groans, looking up at the ceiling.

    "Quill... More 'n half of us are wanted in some part of the galaxy or the other. Last thing I wanna hear right now is that this contact o' yours is honorable." Sip. Frown. Smack lips... yeah, probably still coffee, sip again. "Gimme an honest thief any day. Excuuuuuuuuse me if I don't trust this honor thing, but as long as we get a good solid contract, I don't care if he frickin' helps old ladies cross the road on his days off, so long as he puts it all down in writin'."

Star-Lord has posed:
Bringing up a hand to his face, he rubs in a slightly resigned expression, "Yeah yeah, You gotta base your contracts on /something/ Rocket. Just expecting them to keep to a deal means nothing if their legal system isn't worth the parts to put it together. They're Imperials, the law is absolute here. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

To be fair to Peter, his negotiations have been pretty good so far, and they have a good number of blacklisted clients already, "It's a big universe, Rocket. Besides, you're not the one doing the negotiating, I am... and my record was dealt with already by Nova."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora shrugs, "If the deal's done, the deal's done. No use squealing more about it," she says. "If they screw us, we make them pay for it."

She knows how little law can mean out here. In space, the only law was what you could enforce and most of what you could enforce was done at the end of a blaster or a missile or whatever else you had on hand. The Shi'ar had plenty of all that, wh ich is why they made the rules wherever they went.

Of course, the Brood were much worse. They didn't have any rules.

But, then, neither did she.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Yeah, Quill. By Nova, in Nova space." Rocket motions around him, sloshing some black liquid out of his cup that even he might now begin to concede may not entirely be coffee. But is sure has kick! "Right now it's Imperial law I worry 'bout."

    But Gamora seems to have made up her mind, and Rocket is not the one to stand between the team and a whole stack of Units. "Eh, it's like Green says. We do the job, we get paid. They forget to pay us, we forget about playin' nice, and get paid another way."

    Pause.

    "Oh, eh... In case anyone asks, the Milano defin'tly had double rated engines before the whole border scouting thing, ya got me?" He leans momentarily to his left, looking across the room and down the engineering space, where two large crates have been stacked. Both of them look expensive...

Star-Lord has posed:
"You're doing a fine job, Rocket. I trust you to get the job done. Just... don't piss off engineers while we're IN the hangar." Peter remarks, before he turns and starts to head for his quarters, "I'll be reviewing the revision on our contract for the next round of talks if anyone needs me."