15320/Ongoing Diplomacy

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Ongoing Diplomacy
Date of Scene: 09 July 2023
Location: Salvaton (Niflheim, Sector 1214)
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Thor, Star-Lord, Gamora




Thor has posed:
THE NIGHT BEFORE: "He is-- at any moment-- on a whim-- an imminent threat to the entire planet!" Thor has been ranting about this for a Period of Time. Thor seems to be very drunk. Whether he's talking to anyone across the table in the Milano's lounge or not is open to debate; and perhaps not entirely consequential to the jilted King.

"... And he's /very/ rude!" Never mind the time Cain helped destroy titanic rogue drones. The exception that proves the rule!! No doubt someone PAID the Juggernaut for that!! "It should be--" Thor belches, and thumps his chest, "Confronted /directly/!" At that, the Asgardian Avenger abruptly rises, wobbles momentarily, and further observes, "I am one for sleep." Before retiring to the berths to do, well-- that.

NOW: Even after sleeping on it, Odinson's course remains resolute. The next step in the quest is overcoming the Star-Lord's inevitable objections to inputting the coordinates into the Milano that Thor insists MUST be input into the Milano. It's an impossible jump! It's outside charted space! It's SUICIDE, YOU IDIOT.

It's possible Thor has envisioned parts of this conversation before it even happens. "Trust me, good Star-Lord-- when have I ever led you or yours astray?" It's technically fair. If a limited sample size. And Peter's bound to bring up the killbot salvage //again//. Thor's meaty chest is already heaving in a sigh.
Star-Lord has posed:
"We've been astray since you got on my ship!"

Peter Quill, aka STAR-LORD, is all exasperated at this point in time. Honestly, he looks so done with all of these conversations. Drunken ones. Ones that are sober. Ones that have happened in his or Thor's head. It's been a tiresome scenic route to Midgard and even the Legendary STAR-LORD does not know how much more he can take.

"Drax! Come and get your Space Fraternity Brother! He's trying to get us all killed!" Quill levels a look in Thor's direction. "Again!" Drax is probably somewhere pretending to be invisible again.

Peter's doing everything in his power to make sure that nobody gets to the navigation controls to change coordinates. "Oh and don't think I forgot about you RUINING my Salvage Payday! You still owe me for that too, Blondie!" Peter holds up a finger and just points at Thor with such accusatory pointing that he's hoping to just shame this man(child) god into no longer trying to make them change course. Again.

"Why don't we just swing past Midgard, you can jump out and swing your little hammer and fly to wherever it is you're trying to go." Peter almost seems defeated as he realizes this next point while saying it.

"YOU. CAN. FLY!" That's pretty much the biggest point he's trying to make right now. A point that does not put The Milano in harm's way.
Gamora has posed:
There were not, in fact, any green-skinned assassins present for the drunken ramblings of the God of Thunder the night before. At least, not for any consistent periods of time. Frequently, though, Gamora moved through the ship on one errand or another. What errand? Pretty much any errand that gave her an excuse not to get pulled into the 'conversation.'

And when those excuses ran out? Well, she moved on to openly ignoring, choosing instead to clean her blades.

All of that was 'fine' until the next day when Quill started shouting for Drax.

"At the risk of asking a question I probably don't want the answer to," comes Gamora's voice from the corridor, the sounds of her boots falling steadily towards the two of them. "What, exactly, is the plan?"

There's a pause /almost/ long enough to be pregnant, then.

"And how much does it /pay/?"

For that last one, she looks directly, and pointedly, at Thor.
Thor has posed:
Yep. Sigh confirmed. Thor exhales, deeply, and scans from Peter to Gamora with a deep frown. "What, good Captain, do you feel you are owed for the salvage you did not collect from the menace I ended?" It's not really the first time the King of Asgard has asked this question; but then, an actual payout isn't likely the point of the recurring gripe. "The Plan..." Now THIS is a line of questioning Thor seems eager to indulge, grateful to be asked. /Gamora/ he can deal with! "Is to confront the avatar of a God of Destruction residing upon Midgard and come to terms-- or end a most cataclysmic threat-- upon a battleground where good Terra remains unsundered." Surely all can agree on the wisdom in THAT.

"Perhaps you would be interested in your selection of a myriad of august weapons housed within the ruins of an ancient and advanced stellar empire." While the Asgardian could be accused of sometimes drinking too much, and perhaps being impulsive, he HAS at least clearly thought this through. Thought it through and, perhaps, zeroed in on something Gamora might very well desire.

"I assure you, I know our destination and the requirements to transit there very well; it is not the sort of distance even a starship simply 'flies'." Thor has the good grace not to-- overtly-- roll his eyes as Peter. This time.
Star-Lord has posed:
"I don't hear anything about any Units. I'm just saying."

Quill is starting to relax a little bit since Gamora has arrived to take the sting off this debating argument between himself and the God. He's pretty sure that Gamora will be on his side so he feels like he can physically just lean against the wall to make sure that the navigation screen is behind his head. He can relax and Gamora can talk some sense into the worst passenger they've ever had.

"The Milano is not a space taxi!" Listen, Quill loves his ship okay so just galavanting it around the universe is not his idea of a good time. Especially when there's nothing coming in his direction for it. No units. No cool weapons or tech. No anything.

"And for the record, nobody told you to clean up that menace. That was /my/ menace!" Quill winces at the thought of all those units he had damn near in the palm of his hand. He misses them so. "And now it sounds like you want to go pick a fight with /another/ menace! What is /wrong/ with you?"
Gamora has posed:
"...Hold on, Peter. Let's hear him out."

While she might not be Rocket, whom she was only somewhat confident wouldn't sell all of them out for the promise of the /right/ shoulder-mounted canon, the mention of ancient weapons at least has her interest piqued. Piqued enough, at least, to offer the Asguardian an opportunity to make his case.. something Peter didn't seem willing to do on his own.

And the fact that Peter was already lounging, supremely confident in Gamora's side for this particular battle of wills? That isn't lost on her, either. She raises one green hand slightly in what might pass for 'calming' coming from anyone else, but it's Gamora. So it probably comes off at best as something that resembles, 'Shut up for a second.'

"What do you mean where Terra remains /unsundered/?" Her eyes shift back to Peter, sympathy in them. "If this is an /actual/ threat to Terra, I don't know that we can turn our back on it, Peter. We /are/ the Guardians of the Galaxy."

Then that gaze is right back on Thor. "Unless this is some ancient grudge match that you're dragging us into the middle of on a whim. If /that's/ the case, I have no problem with leaving you there and letting you find your own way home." Once more glance back at Peter. Compromise? Not really. They would still have to fly out there, but there was at least the possibility of being rid of this particular God, one way or another, if it turned out to be an excuse for him to go pick a fight.
Thor has posed:
"There is a grudge." Thor solemnly, frankly admits. "But not an ancient one, nor a debt of blood. The threat this Avatar poses is true indeed-- and I would confront and know its nature where there is no risk to the realm which I have long cherished." The faraway glint, the soft currents of underlying sadness in the blue sea of Thor's gaze as he meets Gamora's-- not only is the God of Storms sincere, he speaks melodies from deepest, richest heartstrings.

"Even the mildest of conflicts which the Juggernaut began in the midst of New York City nearly escalated to catastrophe; one such as I cannot clash with one such as he on such a densely inhabited world. Perhaps I am simply picking a fight-- but such a threat must be /known/! Accord must be struck." Of this, the King of Asgard also seems quite certain. "I do not do this for the violence." But Thor will be shocked if there is no violence, and makes no effort to hide that fact.

"If you then wish me gone from your vessel, despite my own desire to Guard this Galaxy, I will understand." But clearly, this idea is a bit hurtful. Drax and Groot are bound to be offended; but also potentially outvoted. "Please, the coordinates." Was Thor holding a rune-etched warhammer a moment ago? Current crackles along its mass and up his arm as his eyes fill with luminescent blue-white fire.
Star-Lord has posed:
"... Fine."

Peter Quill adds another loss to his Loss | Loss | Draw record in is mind as he realizes from a combination of words from both Gamora and Thor that something must be done. Terra can't be completely threatened by this Juggernaut thing and then there's the whole Guarding the Galaxy angle that he has to deal with. Despite all of his personal feelings, there are things that must be done for the greaterment of goods. Sacrifices must be made.

It's usually only Peter that's making them, though.

With a roll of his eyes, Quill pushes away from the nav screen and gives a sarcastic wave at the area which he was just protecting with his head and body to now allow Thor access to coordinate inputting. "I swear, if something happens to my ship..." It's a weird threatening warning aimed at Thor but it also doesn't /quite/ sound like a threat. It's more of like a 'warning you but also please do not hurt my ship' type deal. It's complicated.

"Let's just get you to Space Fighter II: Turbo and we'll worry about payment and your continued passengerment on The Milano later." Gamora gets a 'this better be worth it' look as Quill starts heading for the cockpit. Somebody's got to fly this thing.
Gamora has posed:
Thor was a literal God and an asset to the Guardians, but like everyone else, he had his own personal goals, his own moral compass, his own code. As long as they were aligned with the rest of the crew and /usually/ productive either in terms of their goal as Guardians or putting units in their pockets and fuel in the ship, Gamora was willing to overlook a lot of 'justifications.' If she wasn't, she would have left some time ago. Sometimes missions were entirely based on profit and logic, but more often than she'd like, there were personal connections.

But let's face it. As the daughter of Thanos, raised and molded into something designed to be the most dangerous weapon in the galaxy, she had no issue telling Thor that she would leave him behind and not look back. Assets were only assets when they weren't trying to get the crew senselessly murdered, after all, and the rest of the Guardians had become her family, for better or worse.

Still, she had met Thor's eyes evenly when he first pled his case. She saw the sincerity. Their lives were dangerous -- that was never a question -- and if this needed to be done, it needed to be done.

"We'll make sure it doesn't," Gamora responds flatly when Peter grumbles about something happening to his ship, and she slips into the cockpit as well, headed for the co-pilot's seat. She might not be the ship's /first/ choice of pilot if they were being chased through an asteroid field, but she could handle the ship and made a fine co-pilot when Rocket wasn't taking up the post.

She was already settling in, flipping a few switches, when she glanced half over her shoulder. "And I expect to see those ruins before we leave." It's not a threat. Well, not any more of a threat than anything else that comes out of her mouth. Just a reminder. A flick of her gaze up to Thor's face again and then back to work.