The group gathered in the main area of the yard room, while the rest of the inmates began stirring, getting up for their morning meals and chores.

Marisol disregarded all of this. She knew full well just how repulsive prison food could be; she tended to avoid it whenever she was able.

Starlord and some of the others yawned, exhausted from having gotten little to no sleep the night before.

Marisol's own eyes burned slightly, but she was used to getting a minimal amount of sleep by this point in her life.

She hadn't, after all, had a proper rest through the night since she was eleven years old thanks to the torture she'd endured and the nightmares that plagued her sleep.

The thought of nightmares invited her dream from the night before to come rushing back to her. Marisol grimaced, forcing the images from her mind before they became too over whelming. She needed to focus on getting out of this hell hole.

"By the way," Rocket said when he spotted Marisol. "You owe me thirty units."

"What!?" Marisol snapped, suddenly forgetting all about her nightmare. She shook her head roughly. "Nuh-uh! You owe me thirty units! We had just barely been here one night before she was attacked!" She pointed at Gamora, who rolled her eyes.

"The deal was she wouldn't last a night," Rocket recapped. "Not lasting means she gets dead. And, uh," he laughed deviously, "she looks pretty alive to me!"

Marisol rolled her own eyes, scoffing quite a bit. "Bullshit! She would have been dead if my cousin wasn't such a pinche pendejo!"

"Well, it still counts." Rocket folded his arms over his chest, looking up at her with a stubborn look of scorn.

Mari shook her head again vigorously. "It does not count!"

"It does too!" Rocket insisted.

"It does not!" Marisol huffed, pointing at her cousin. "He interfered with our bet!"

"We discussed nothing about anyone not being able to interfere," Rocket said. "So, I say it counts!"

"Well, I say it doesn't!" Marisol grumbled. The two best friends glared at each other, the others standing behind them, all looking fairly annoyed.

"It counts!" Rocket said before turning to Groot. "Groot, tell her it counts!"

Before the tree man could respond, though, Marisol let out an angry groan. She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Eres un bastardo infiel!"

Rocket rolled his eyes, arms still folded over his chest. "I am not a cheating bastard! You're just a sore loser!"

"I am Groot," Groot interrupted, telling them to shut up.

The two went quiet, both mumbling words of irritation under their breath before quickly growing serious again.

Rocket stood up straight, dusting himself off a bit. "Right. Escaping. Well, if we're gonna get out of here, we're gonna need to get into that watchtower." He pointed to the structure at the center of the yard room.

Rocket hopped on the table as everyone else took a seat around him. He spoke seriously, drawing the group's attention on to himself. "And to do that, I'm gonna need a few things."

Nodding up to one of the catwalks where a guard was fiddling with the device of his wrist, he said, "The guards wear security bands to control their ins and outs." A prisoner left the room as the guard opened a door. "I need one."

Gamora nodded curtly, leaning forward, pressing her hands to the table as she spoke monotonously. "Leave it to me."

Rocket gave his own nod in response. Glancing around the yard room to see what else he'd need for their escape, he spotted one prisoner with a robotic leg, hobbling around with his food tray. "That guy there," he pointed to him, "I need his prosthetic leg."

Marisol shot him a look, raising an eyebrow at him. He shrugged back at her, and she rolled her eyes for about the thousandth time that week. (It was a wonder they didn't get stuck in the back of her head, the amount of times she did that.)

"His leg?" Quill asked. He looked questioning too, but clearly he was the dumber of the two cousins, because he was fairly easy to fool.

"Yeah," Rocket said, "God knows I don't need the rest of him. Look at him, he's useless."

Quill shrugged. "Alright."

Rocket turned once more, jumping onto Marisol's shoulder. "And finally, on the wall back there is a black panel. Blinky yellow light. Do you see it?"

The group followed his gaze, taking notice of the panel he was referring to. Quill nodded, "Yeah."

"There's a quarnyx battery behind it," Rocket said. "Purplish box, green wires. To get into that watchtower, I definitely need it."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Gamora asked.

Rocket looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, supposably, these bald-bodies find you ladies attractive. So maybe you can work out some sort of trade."

Gamora narrowed her eyes. "You must be joking."

"No," Rocket said. "I really heard they find you attractive."

Marisol scowled at that, shoving him off her shoulder with all the force she could muster.

Rocket grunted as he hit the floor. Climbing back onto the table, he looked back at her, shrugging unapologetically. "Hey, it was just a suggestion!"

The ladies stared down at him, completely unamused.

"What?" Rocket asked. He looked up at Marisol. "You've done it before!"

"When it was my idea!" Marisol snapped.

Quill decided to jump in before Rocket got himself clobbered by the ladies. "Look, it's twenty feet in the air, and it's in the middle of the most heavily guarded part of the prison. It's impossible to get up there without being seen."

Rocket settled back down into a chair, his back turned to the panel. "I got one plan, and that plan requires a frickin' quarnyx battery, so figure it out!" he screamed in Quill's face.

Marisol sighed. Rocket got quite testy whenever people doubted his plans. Which was a little annoying, seeing as how something usually always went wrong.

She was about to point this out, when she realized something had already gone wrong. "Rocket," she said urgently. "Where's Groot?"

Rocket shrugged. "I thought it was your turn to babysit him." He turned back to the other two. "Can we get back to it?" When no one said anything, he said, "Good. Now, this is important. Once the battery is removed, everything is gonna slam into emergency mode."

Marisol's attention was stolen when she heard a small grunt from another table, where a metal plating had just whammed a guy right in the head.

She gasped, spotted Groot reaching up for the panel, pulling the battery out of the wall.

"Rocket!" Marisol tried.

He ignored her and kept explaining things to the others. "Once we have it, we gotta move quickly, so you definitely need to get that last."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Marisol muttered. She watched as Groot yanked the wiring off the battery.

There was a split second in which the others stared at her, confusion written all over their faces.

Then, alarms blared, the prisoners scattering, guards rushing on to the scene immediately.

Rocket sighed. "Or we could just get it first and improvise!" He shot Marisol an annoyed look. "I thought you were watching him!"

"I never said anything about watching him!" Mari snapped back, Rocket jumping onto her shoulder once more. "Beside, you know how hard he is to keep track of! He just walks off when you're talking. I think you bore him."

"First of all, that was uncalled for!" Rocket huffed. "Second of all, how do you lose track of him, he's thirty feet tall!"

"He is not that tall!" Marisol said, rolling her eyes again.

"Enough," Gamora snapped. "I'll get the arm band." She ran off to fulfill her task.

"Leg," Quill said, walking off as well.

Marisol snorted as he went. She raised her hand, a smirk forming on her lips. Rocket grinned as well, slapping her a high five.

Their amusement was short lived, as a group of flying robots hovered towards Groot. Rocket rubbed his face, groaning in irritation.

From the catwalk above, a guard called out to their friend. "Prisoner, drop the device immediately and retreat to your cell, or we will open fire."

Naturally, Groot didn't listen. The vines on his body began growing, stretching outward and reaching for the robots surrounding him. He bellowed, "I. AM. GROOOOT!!" And all hell broke loose.

The robots fired rapidly. Groot smacked one across the room, causing it to erupt into an explosion of sparks.

He head butted another one, sending it flying right into the wall. The other inmates scattered, returning to their cells as instructed.

Marisol made a beeline for Groot, sprinting as fast as she could to avoid being hit by the robots' bullets.

As she ran Rocket fell off her shoulder, ducking and covering his head with his paws he running over to Groot. Marisol skidded to a stop right next to the big guy.

Rocket scurried up Groot's leg and around his waist, coming to a halt on his shoulder.

"You idiot!" He had to shout to be heard over the bullets clashing with the metal flooring around them. "How am I supposed to fight these things without my stuff?"

"Ditto!" Marisol said, shaking her head disapprovingly. She could have, of course, used her powers, but that was always a last resort only.

Groot didn't respond, too preoccupied with swatting at the robots. Marisol yelped, ducking behind Groot as one began firing directly at the trio.

Rocket shoved his head down on Groot's body; Groot lifted his arms, forming a large shield made of burs to cover them.

With a grunt, Groot smacked the thing away from them with the bur shield, Rocket almost falling off his back.

The robot went soaring, slamming into one of the tables. At the other end of the room, one of the guards shouted, "The animal is in control! Fire on my command!"

"Gah!" Marisol yelled, watching as the guards readied their big, bulky guns that would surely kill them. "Groot, when we get out of here, you are so grounded!"

"I am Groot?" Groot said, swatting, still, at the robots as they continued firing.

"Why would that be a pun about you being a tree?" Marisol asked, shaking her head again, ducking to avoid being hit by the robots.

She decided things were looking pretty desperate, so she took a small step forward, rasing her hand. "Now, stand back, I'm gonna try to use my powers on the guards."

Before she could move an inch, Drax the Destroyer charged the guards with guns, bellowing out a huge roar.

He pushed them all to the ground in a matter of seconds. Drax even took the liberty of kicking one of them in their soft spot and smacking another in the face with his own gun.

"Or this could happen," Marisol shrugged. Swinging herself around to assist Drax, she punched a guard in the throat.

Drax jumped up, swinging around, using the neck of one guard as a pole to propel himself, kicking a second guard in the nose and knocking him to the floor. All the while laughing like a complete loon. Man, that guy was cool.

Marisol grinned, charging at another guard, sending a roundhouse kick to his face before turning and snapping another guard's arm.

The guard let out an eardrum shattering cry as she shoved him back into one of his co workers, both of them stumbling to the floor.

One guard ran up to Drax, smacking him in the face. Only the slap didn't really do much of anything; so Drax head butted the poor bastard, knocking him out cold.

Swiftly, he turned, grabbing hold of another guard, and, with a psychotic scream, he lifted him into the air, slamming him down again roughly.

Picking up the last guard's weapon, Drax turned his attention to the trio. "Creepy little beast!" he called out, though Marisol wasn't sure which of them he was referring to.

He tossed the gun he'd stolen without further warning, and Rocket caught it with ease.

Rocket cocked the gun, a huge smirk forming on his face. "Oh, yeah."

Screaming at the top of his lungs as Groot turned in a circle, Rocket fired his new weapon rapidly.

Marisol and Drax hit the deck to avoid being shot. The guards and their little robo toys weren't so lucky. One by one, they all fell, the robots exploding into a million pieces.

Above them, Gamora was sprinting along the catwalk; as she ran she throat punched a guard, knocking another down by jumping in the air, kicking him in the chest with both feet before landing in a crouched position.

Marisol grinned at that. She may not have cared much for the green skinned woman, but she had to hand it to her. Gamora was quite the badass.

Three more guards rounded the corner. Two of them had guns, one of which fired a laser at her, while the other held a shield.

Gamora easily dodged the laser, charging forward and ripping the thing out of the man's hand before knocking the man with the shield down with another high waisted kick.

She took one of the guards, by the arm, aiming his own nightstick at his throat. They exchanged a few words, but Marisol couldn't hear over Rocket's rapid fire and screams. She guessed Gamora was just demanding he hand over his wrist band.

On the other end of the catwalk, Marisol saw Quill sprinting away from one cell, a metal leg in his hand. Briefly, he was stopped by a guard; but Starlord whacked him with the leg, knocking the bastard out cold.

A lone robot somehow escaped Rocket's wrath, making its way over to Quill. Marisol jumped to her feet, running for the stairs, ducking to avoid taking any bullets.

"Primito!" She yelled, getting stopped by five guards, blocking her path to him.

Fortunately, Quill had heard her warning call. He quickly dropped the prosthetic leg, opting to pick up the gun of the guard he'd just knocked out instead.

Marisol grabbed the first guard's arm, throwing him into the second one; but the third and forth grabbed her arms.

She threw her head back, slamming it into the nose of the fifth guard, causing him to stumble back.

Quill fired the gun, exploding the robot that had been about to attack him. Then, he turned, firing down at the guards attacking Mari.

She huffed, throwing the guards off of her before meeting her cousin halfway up the stairs, as he was picking the leg up again. "I had that," Marisol hissed, pushing her way past him.

"You're welcome," Quill mumbled sarcastically. He followed after her quickly.

"Rocket!" Gamora yelled from across the way, having got the wrist device from the guard.

Rocket dropped his gun as he ran out of bullets. He looked up at Gamora's shout, just in time to see her tossing the security band to him; he reached his paw out, snatching it from the air.

Rocket looked down at Groot, but he shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, even over the flying bullets of the remaining guards. "Move for the watchtower!"

Gamora crouched down, sprinting across the catwalk and leaping to the watchtower's platform.

Groot marched over to the same platform, albeit still on the ground level; he stretched his arms up to it, allowing Rocket to scurry up to the platform with Gamora.

Marisol and Peter met them along the way. The two cousins began climbing as well, Peter going first. He paused when another robot flew into the room, coming for the cousins, only for Drax the Destroyer to snatch it from the air and rip it in half with his bare hands.

He stared up at Quill, his eyes wild. "You! Man who has lain with an A'askavariian!"

Peter sighed, rolling his head around with annoyance. "That was one time, man…" he mumbled.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Primito," Marisol said. She pushed at his foot a little. "Now, get climbing."

He started climbing again, and as she followed, Drax began climbing up after her. Mari glanced down. "Huh, okay. I guess he's just gonna come with us. Okay."

When the three of them made it onto the platform with Gamora and Rocket, Marisol turned to help pull Groot up as well. Rocket opened the door with the device Gamora had pulled off the guard.

There was a lone guard inside the watchtower, frantically calling for backup, when they stepped inside. Turning to face the group of six, the color drained from his face.

He held up his hands in surrender. Gamora stepped forward, pushing him out of his seat; Groot slinked his arms around everyone, grabbing the guard and tossing him across the platform like a ragdoll. Rocket closed the door behind them once everyone was inside.

Quill, Rocket, and Groot gathered at the console at the front of the room, while Marisol hung back with Gamora and Drax.

Gamora glanced at Drax, a scowl forming on her face. Drax glared back at her, getting in her face. "Spare me your foul gaze, woman!"

Gamora ignored him, turning instead to Marisol and Quill. "Why is this one here?"

Marisol shrugged. "He followed us up. Guess he wanted to escape too."

"That and we promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss," Peter added.

Marisol shot him a look. "When the hell did you fools promise him that?"

"Just this morning actually," Rocket said, setting to work at the console. "Before we all met up."

"Ah," Marisol nodded. "And here I thought the homicidal maniac was helping us out of the goodness of his heart." She glanced at Drax. "That's a term of endearment by the way."

Quill squinted at her. "In what way is that a term of endearment?"

Mari shrugged. "It is when I use it."

"Whatever." He turned back to Gamora. "I always keep my promises when they're to muscle-bound whack jobs who'll kill me if I don't."

"How noble," Mari commented. She pointed at him. "And why do you get to call him a whack job?"

"Because I can!" Quill reasoned lamely. He flopped the metal leg down in front of Rocket. "Anyway, here you go."

Rocket hardly spared him a glance. "Oh, I was just kidding about the leg."

"What?" Quill shouted. Marisol and Rocket broke into a fit of laughter at that, Mari having to use the wall to support herself as she almost fell over.

"I thought it'd be funny," Rocket chuckled.

"You were right," Mari giggled.

"Was it funny?" Rocket asked, glancing a Quill, still giggling himself. "Oh, wait! What did he look like hopping around?"

Mari snickered, sitting up right. "I bet he looked like a total dweeb."

"Right?" Rocket said, belting out another stark raving mad laugh.

No one else shared their amusement, least of all Quill. Starlord looked between the pair of them, extremely annoyed. "I had to transfer him thirty-thousand units!"

Marisol patted his shoulder with fake sympathy. "That's what you get for being a gullible loser, Primito." Rocket snickered into his paw, his body shaking up and down a little.

The fun was ruined shortly, when another robot flew in from the next room, zooming up to the watchtower window, firing upon it, trying to shoot it open. The six occupants jumped slightly at the sudden noise.

"How are we going to leave?" Drax demanded, bringing everyone back to business.

"Well he has a plan," Quill nodded at Rocket, shielding his eyes from the bright sparks on the window where the robot fired. "Or is that another thing you made up?"

Ignoring the passive aggressive attitude, Rocket sprang into action, frantically fiddling with the console. "I have a plan! I have a plan!"

"Cease your yammering," Drax said, growing irritated at everyone's bickering, "and relieve us from this irksome confinement."

"Yeah," Quill said, as the robot whirled away, circling around to find a better angle. "I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one."

Drax glared at him. "Do not ever call me a thesaurus."

Groot leaned down to Mari. "I am Groot." Marisol put her hand over her mouth in a failed attempt to cover her snickers.

Gamora glanced at them, frowning with confusion. "What did he say?"

Mari looked at her, still sort of laughing as she translated. "He said: so homicidal maniac and whack job are fine, but thesaurus is offensive?"

Gamora nodded slowly, not really seeing what was so funny about that comment.

She turned back to where Peter was trying to explain his statement to Drax. "It's just a metaphor, dude!"

"His people are completely literal. Metaphors are gonna go over his head," Rocket called over his shoulder, pressing buttons on the console at alarming speeds.

Drax, clearly not recognizing that that was also a metaphor of sorts, said, "Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it."

Gamora sighed, looking directly in front of her, a dazed look washing over her face. "I'm gonna die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy," she muttered to herself.

Down below, a group of guards marched into the yard room, shields and rocket launchers at the ready. They gathered in a formation at the center of the room, aiming their weapons up at the six.

"Those are some big guns," Quill commented.

The watchtower shook, as they blasted a shot towards them. Gamora looked at Rocket urgently. "Rodent, we are ready for your plan!"

"Hold on!" Rocket hissed. He scurried over the console, pressing buttons and messing with the wires.

"Yeah, not much time left for that, Cohete!" Mari snapped, losing her footing as the guards fired another shot. She held onto Groot for support. "You better hurry it up!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm working on it, shut up!" Rocket snipped.

"I'm going to keep them occupied," Marisol said, her eyes flashing violet.

She took a step forward, planning to use her powers to take control of the guards' minds. Maybe make them fight each other instead.

But Rocket jumped up, shoving her back and making her lose her hold on her powers. "No, no, no! You don't need to do that! I got it covered. You all just stay back!"

Marisol grumbled under her breath and slumped against the wall. He never let her use her powers even though it would be much easier and faster.

The excuse was always the same too. "You'll over exert yourself and then we'll have to carry you and look stupid!" It was really annoying.

Drax glanced over Rocket's tiny form, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I recognize this animal. We'd roast them over a flame pit as children. Their flesh is quite delicious."

"That's gross," Marisol said. She shuddered at the idea of someone trying to eat her friend or even something that looked like him.

"I am Groot," Groot agreed with a nod.

"SHUT UP!" Rocket shouted. He huffed when everyone snapped their mouths shut. "Not helping!"

The next blast cracked the windows. Marisol could hear the warden down below, bellowing out orders for the guards to ready another shot. "You sure I can't use my powers, Cohete?"

Rocket ignored her as he struggled with the wires, the others standing tense behind him as the warden began counting down for the next blast.

When he reached one, Rocket attached two wires together; suddenly every guard, table, and gun down below started floating in mid air.

The only things that stayed put were the things nailed to the ground, save for the small group in the watchtower.

Gamora leaned forward, looking impressed. "You turned off the artificial gravity everywhere but here."

Marisol grinned. "Nice one, Cohete!" Even if she was slightly annoyed at him for not letting her use her powers on the guards, she had to admit that was pretty bad ass.

"I told you I had a plan," Rocket said smugly. He fiddled with the console some more, the rest of the robots attaching themselves to the bottom of the watchtower and lifting it into the air.

The watchtower soared through the air, zipping down through the halls, smacking into a guard or two.

They flew through the next two doorways, skidding against the walls, sparks grinding and spitting out.

Marisol grit her teeth at the noise, stumbling a bit as the watchtower shook. They skidded to a halt, the tower slamming to the floor, as the robots' jets ran out.

Rocket quickly shut the door behind them, assuring the guards wouldn't follow. Or at least it would slow them down anyway.

Quill nodded slowly, as things momentarily settled down. "Alright, that was a pretty good plan."

"Huh?" Rocket said, looking taken aback by the compliment.

Marisol glanced out the window, grinning as soon as she realized where they were. "We're in impound. Let's go get our stuff!"

Peter kicked the glass out of the window, and everyone climbed out, scattering to hunt down their belongings.

Marisol and Rocket gathered their weapons, stuffing them into duffle bags. Gamora grabbed everyone's clothes, putting them in her own bag so they could all change later.

Marisol did take the time to change into her boots, though. The prison shoes were treacherous.

And she did place the ear piece Rocket had stolen for her in her earlobe. (It had the ability to transform into a helmet. She doubted she'd need it, but she felt a bit naked without it.)  Then, she hooked her hatches and gadgets on the hem of her pants.

Rocket hissed as he spotted the state his clothing was in, shaking his head. "They crumbled my pants up into a ball!" he complained. "That's rude! They folded yours!" He gestured at everyone else's clothes.

Marisol rolled her eyes at him but otherwise ignored him. "Okay, so how are we actually, you know, leaving the Klyn?"

"I have a ship," Starlord said. He ran over to the window, pointing to a ship that was parked across the way. Marisol vaguely recalled seeing it as they were being brought in.

"Yeah, there it is." He turned back to the others. "Get my ship. It's the Milano, the orange and blue one in the corner."

Marisol raised an eyebrow at him, as she followed his finger to the ship he was indicating. "In that rust bucket? I think we'd have better chances if we just walked."

"Hey! That ship has gotten me through a lot of close calls!" Starlord insisted. "Give it a chance!"

"Whatever." She shrugged, as he finished gathering his junk.

Gamora walked over to him impatiently when he'd taken a minute too long. "The Orb's there. Let's go!"

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, frantically searching through the stuff the guards had taken.

"What?" Gamora snapped.

"That bastard didn't put it back!" Peter said.

"Put what back?" Gamora asked.

"Here," Peter said, passing her his stuff. "Get them to the ship. I'll be right back."

Gamora and Marisol exchanged annoyed looks. "How are you going to possibly --" Gamora started.

"Just keep the Milano close by," Quill said. "Go. Go!" He took off down the hall.

Gamora and Marisol exchanged another look, the latter letting out a loud sigh of annoyance. "I'll go make sure he doesn't get himself killed, you go get the ship, Caballero blanco." Before Gamora could protest she ran after her cousin.

She found him sneaking around the halls, making a bit too much noise as he went along.

Marisol silently moved behind him, roughly grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

He jumped. She glared at him. "What are you doing, Primito?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" he retorted. "Your supposed to be helping Gamora get everyone to the ship!"

"Rocket would leave you behind if you took too long," Marisol told him. "But he won't leave me. So, what the hell are you doing?"

Peter sighed; his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. I'm getting my walkman back from that guard."

Marisol narrowed her eyes at him. She smacked his arm, beating him senseless as he flinched back, hissing in pain. "Ow! Ow! Hey!"

"Are you completely stupid?!" Marisol whisper-shouted. "You could get us all caught!"

Peter stared at her softly. He shrugged, like his next words justified everything. "It's the one from my mom."

Marisol threw her hands out, making a face at him. "So what?"

Peter scoffed. "So, what? What do you mean so what? It has sentimental value! You know what that's like. You're that way with your necklace."

Marisol shook her head. "Not any more I'm not," she said. "I lost it long ago, and it taught me to never get too attached to things that can be taken away."

"That's a bunch of croc," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "That necklace was everything to you once upon a time. It was the only thing you had left of your mom, and this walkman is the only thing I have left of mine!"

"Being sentimental is what gets you killed," Marisol defended her opinion. "It's better, safer, not to get attached to things. Or people for that matter. They'll all just leave you high and dry in the end and things always fade away over time, so they're pointless anyways."

Peter gave a short laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. "So, you don't get sentimental about valuables or get attached to people, but you can get attached to a rat and a tree? Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense, Queen Bee!"

She rolled her eyes at the new nickname. "Whatever. If you insist on risking our lives for some junk then let's just get it already and get out of here."

"Yeah, fine," Peter agreed.

Simultaneously, the cousins pressed their hands to their ear pieces, helmets forming over each of their faces.

They were similar in style, both having dark black metal and a gas mask pointing downwards from the mouth. Though, his bore glowing red eyes, while hers had an electric purple glow.

Peter looked his cousin up at down for a brief. "I know you just said you aren't sentimental, but damn that's a nice mask."

"Thanks," Mari said. "Yours too."

"Seriously, though, we're gonna have a lengthy conversation about it when we get out of here."

"If you say so."

The two cousins sauntered through the hallways, guards charging towards them just to get their asses handed to them.

Starlord fired a bolt of electricity at a pair of them, causing them to wither in pain on the floor; he pushed a third to the ground, kicking him in the groin.

Chimera took notice of a fourth guard charging towards them, gun at the ready. She lazily raised her hand, yawning a bit dramatically, using her abilities to show him his worst nightmare.

(Rocket wasn't there too stop her from using them now.) Within seconds he was on the floor, screaming until his face turned red.

Starlord fired on the last of the guards, sending him flying across the room.

When he complained about his neck, Chimera thrust her hand at him, sending a purple wave of energy towards him and knocking him out.

"Nice," Starlord commented. Chimera nodded in return.

As the two continued forward, he took the Orb from his pocket, tossing it into the air and catching it smoothly.

She glanced at him. "Further insurance that they don't leave us?"

"Yup," he confirmed.

"Clever."

They found the blue guard from earlier, exactly where they'd met him before.

He was still listening to Peter's walkman, as if he hadn't moved the entire time they'd been in the prison.

Marisol wondered how he could be so oblivious. Did he not realize there was a riot going on? The guards here really were useless...

Peter smacked him in the face without a second thought, snatching the head set and tape recorder as the man fell.

"Great, you got your junk," Mari said as he stuffed it in his pocket. "Now let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" Peter grumbled. He stepped out of the room and walked over to the nearest window. Before opening it, he glanced back at Marisol. "Wait do you have jets or…?"

In response, Mari clicked her heels together, activating the jets in her boots. She was really glad she'd decided to get her helmet and boots now.

Quill nodded, probably grinning under his own mask. "Sweet." With that, he opened the window and the two cousins jumped into the cold vacuum of space.

Rocket had parked the ship just outside the Klyn base. It could have been her imagination mixed with her own irritation, but Marisol thought if the ship was glaring at them with impatience, as they sky rocketed towards it.

Thanks to their jets, they reached the ship in a matter of seconds. Marisol stepped inside, Gamora and Drax opening the round hatch and helping her inside before doing the same with Quill. Rocket took off as soon as they were on board, quickly leaving the prison behind them.

"These ones show spirit," Drax commented. As the cousins let their masks drop, revealing their faces again, he glanced between them. "You shall make keen allies in the battle against Ronan. Companions, what were you retrieving?"

Peter passed him the walkman as he stepped past, moving towards the front of the ship to take the controls from Rocket. Drax glanced over the tape recorder, quickly changing his tune. "You're imbeciles."

"Hey!" Marisol protested. "I was just trying to make sure he didn't get himself killed! Rocket, Groot, and I need him alive if Gamora flakes out on us." She folded her arms, flopping into a chair.

Peter rolled his eyes at her, but he didn't say anything as he took a seat at the front of the ship.

Gamora sighed, not even bothering to defend herself against Mari's rude remark. She simply followed her example, taking a seat next to Peter and Groot. Drax moved to sit in a chair on the other side of Mari.

Rocket huffed from his own chair. "Well, consider your moronic asses lucky. Another five minutes and I would have left you both!"

Groot shook his head, calling his bluff with a cry of, "I am Groot."

Rocket spun around, raising his paws, hostile. "I was to gonna!"

"I am Groot," Groot called him out again.

"Yes, I was." Rocket turned to Drax and Gamora. "Did I or did I not say I'd leave them if they didn't hurry up?" He turned back to Groot before they could respond. "Who's side are you on, anyways?!"

"Mine of course," Marisol answered for him. She sat back in her chair, propping a leg up and twirling a strand of her hair in her fingers. "I'm the one who cooks all the meals, after all." She gave Rocket a pointed look.

Rocket waved the thought away quickly. "So, what? I'm the one who gets us all the units!"

"And I'm the one who makes sure you two behave yourselves!" Marisol argued.

Rocket laughed in protested. "Oh, you think you're the one who's in charge of this group?" He stood up in his chair, folding his arms with a huff.

"Please," Mari said, sitting up again, staring back at him with an intense case. "If it weren't for me you and Groot would just be running around the galaxy wrecking havoc at any old place you see. I'm practically your mother, keeping the both of you out of trouble."

Rocket scoffed. "Whatever. If anyone's the parent in this thing it's obviously me. I'm always the one who's keeping you two idiots from doing something stupid."

Drax glanced at Groot as Rocket and Marisol kept arguing. "Do they squabble like this often?"

Groot looked back at him, simply saying, "I am Groot."

Gamora tilted her head to the side, watching as the rodent and Terrain girl kept on bickering. "I think we should take that as a yes."