Unedited

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Marisol flopped down in one of the chairs on the bridge, staring out the front window, bored out of her mind.

She'd shoved all the unwanted thoughts and memories to the back of her head, at least for the time being, long enough to keep Kale at bay anyway.

Starlord and the others were slowly trickling in behind her, preparing for take off when another ship made its way over, hovering just beside them.

It was smaller, newer looking. The wings were a lot shorter, and the mast was a lot more narrow. Judging from the pipes on the sides, Marisol assumed the thing had been built for speed.

The white platings were reinforced with dwarf star alloy to see to it that the little vessel could take a hit; though Marisol imagined the puny thing could venture too far out of this world's atmosphere.

It was surely be crushed by the air pressure should its altitude become too high.

The ship's lights began flickering the slightest bit, wings curving inwards, engine revving up.

Gamora frowned, scowling at the smaller ship with distaste. "What are they doing?"

Rocket chuckled lowly, climbing up to the pilot's chair. "They wanna race." He gripped the controls eagerly, glancing at Quill. "Can we race 'em?"

Quill looked apprehensive about the idea, especially since Rocket appeared to already be overly ecstatic about it. "The Milano is a thieving ship. It's not really built for racing."

Though based on his behavior, Marisol doubted he even cared. It was more likely that he was just trying to impress Gamora enough so that she'd sleep with him.

"I say we do it," Marisol said, ignoring her cousin's protests. They hadn't done anything remotely exhilarating since escaping the Klyn, and she was in desperate need of some adrenalin.

Gamora gave her one of those looks of disapproval she liked handing out so often. "What happened to disliking senseless behavior?"

Marisol slipped into the copilot's seat next to Rocket, giving her a small shrug. A smirk was beginning to form over her lips. "Racing isn't senseless. It's strategizing for when we need to outrun the authorities."

"Uh, we're gonna need to out run the authorities in a few minutes, because you two are gonna draw attention to us!" Peter insisted.

"Eh." Marisol had to admit: he made a good point for once. It was just that she didn't particularly care at the time.

"The imbecile and murderous are correct," Drax put in. "We should be focusing on finding and killing Ronan, not partaking in ludicrous games!"

Marisol waved the thought away, flicking the Milano's lights back at the smaller ship. "Relax, we can do both, amigo."

"Yeah, you guys need to learn to live a little!" Rocket smirked, revving up the Milano's engines.

"I am Groot," Groot said, covering his eyes.

Rocket scoffed. "I am not going to get us killed! Shut up."

Outside, the smaller ship flicked its wings twice, indicating that they'd go for the next two blocks, until they reached the next rest stop.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Peter asked nervously as he and the others hurried to sit down and strap in.

"Rocket was cybernetically engineered to fly ships and has extensive knowledge on weaponry," Marisol reminded her cousin.

"Yeah," Rocket nodded, flickering a few switches. "So, in other words, I can fly your ship better than you!"

Rocket cackled, slapping Marisol a high five, as they sped off into the on coming traffic of the planet.

The accelerated speed caused everyone to abruptly slam into the back of their seats. Marisol's strap started cutting into her collar bones, because as tough as she thought herself to be, her frame was fairly small; but she didn't mind too much. 

Groot held on to his straps for dear life, though, letting out a terrified shriek of, "I am Groot!!"

He'd always hated these sort of things, and Marisol felt a little bad that they had neglected to take that into consideration. She'd have to make it up to him later.

Quill and Drax were smooshed into their chairs in a not so flattering manner; and Gamora was clutching on to her arm rests so tightly her knuckles turned white.

But Marisol and Rocket were cheering like manics, enjoying every second of it.

Rocket frantically began flipping switches and pressing buttons, twisting and turning the wheel to avoid the on coming traffic.

Marisol did her best to help when she got, but Rocket didn't really need it. So, she kept her gaze on their opponent through the window.

The smaller ship was definitely much faster than the Milano, and it was a lot more agile. The pilot could easily swerve around the passing ships and vehicles of this planet without much of an issue.

The Milano's bigger structure and slower engines made that task much harder for Rocket and Marisol, allowing the smaller ship to pull in front of them.

Marisol groaned in annoyance, watching as the pilot of the smaller ship flipped around, maneuvering underneath a cluster of pods and speeding up ahead by at least three feet.

The Milano was trapped between two very large pods and a cargo ship. Rocket hissed in annoyance, banging a paw on the wheel.

"Go up!" Marisol suggested. "We'll get around these losers and cut 'em off!"

Rocket nodded curtly, following her advice. The Milano shuttered and shook at the abrupt change of direction.

"This is madness!" Gamora yelled.

"This is fun!" Marisol argued.

Rocket pulled in front of the traffic, nearly hitting a floating traffic light on the way back down. Quill struggled to sit up, glaring at him. "Whoa! Hey! Easy man! This is my ship!"

"Sorry!" Rocket called back. Only a moment later, he chuckled to himself. "Oh, wait. No I'm not!"

Quill rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything else, he was forced to sit back as Rocket made a sharp left turn.

He situated the ship so that it flew on its side, the wings pointed in vertical positions, allowing them to sneak by a heavy looking cargo ship and another cluster of pods which blew their horns at them.

Once they'd passed, Rocket put the ship upright, eyes scanning the area around them urgently. "Where are they?"

"I don't see them," Marisol said, her eyes scanning over the traffic as well.

She twisted in her seat so she could see behind them, smirking when she spotted the little ship a good two feet in their wake. "Keep going! We're losing them!" 

Rocket sped up, pushing the Milano's pedal all the way down to the floor board. With the force of the movement, everyone was thrown into their chairs again, Rocket letting out another happy little cackle.

"Must you drive like a crazed lunatic, Rodent?" Drax grumbled. Marisol figured he was enjoying it more than he let on, it was likely that he just didn't like Rocket.

"Yes!" Rocket insisted. He laughed manically, maneuvering the ship to dodge a cluster of ships as he swerved into the next lane after taking another turn too fast.

"Dude! You're gonna crash my ship!" Peter complained, getting thrown into his seat's armrest.

"You could use the upgrade anyways,"  Marisol told him.

Behind them, the smaller ship was swiftly moving around the traffic, steadily gaining on them thanks to their superior speed.

Rocket jerked the Milano to the side, blocking the other pilot's pathway, making sure they didn't pass them.

Marisol kept a firm eye on them via the monitors and craning her neck to see out the large window at the front. (Though she tried not to rely on the latter as she worried that might have resulted in her neck being snapped like a twig.)

The smaller ship attempted to pass them a total of three more times, but in each instance Rocket cut them off, moving the Milano up, down, left, and right to block their path.

Simultaneous, he had to keep at least one of his eyes trained on the traffic in front of him. More than once they'd nearly been plowed over by a larger ship, and the Milano was only just fast enough to move out of the way in time.

"Your foolishness is going to get us all killed!" Gamora snapped, reiterating Groot's statement after they'd narrowly missed yet another large cargo ship.

"Yeah, yeah," Rocket waved the comment away, clearly not listening. "Quit your whining!"

"Watch it!" Quill yelped. He pointed out the window. There was an approaching bus pod, easily three sizes bigger than the Milano.

"I see it! I see it!" Rocket hushed him. He swerved again, causing everyone to slam into their seats once more.

The smaller ship dipped under the pod, twirling in a full circle as the pilot took a nose dive for the ground below.

They changed their course at the last second, shooting straight up, zig zagging through the on coming traffic.

The pilot zipped between two pods, narrowly avoiding getting crushed by the pair of them; the pods blew their horns at the pilot as the smaller ship passed.

Marisol eyed the smaller ship curiously, clutching the strap of her seat as it rode up on her neck again when Rocket twisted the Milano around two more pods. "I haven't seen flying like this since..."

"Ziana?" Rocket finished. He scrunched up his nose, pushing the Milano even harder. "Oh, there is no frickin' way I am losing to her!"

"Easy! You're going to blow the engine!" Quill hissed.

Rocket, naturally, ignored him. The control panel grew hot under Marisol's fingers, even as she was just resting her hands on its surface.

From outside, the front of the ship began smoking; the Milano was making all sort of grinding noises, promoting more complaints from Starlord.

Still, Rocket kept pushing it. The smaller ship was gaining on them now, practically flying right next to them.

They would have passed several blocks ago, but Rocket was doing his best to keep the Milano moving faster, pushing the old bucket of bolts beyond its limits.

Marisol spotted the next rest stop up ahead. She bit her lip, gripping her arm rests as her heart began racing with anticipation.

For the moment, the two ships were neck and neck. There were no other vehicles blocking their path now, so they each had a clear straight shot.

The smaller ship sped up, smoke billowing from the pipes on its sides, its engine emitting an ear drum shattering roar.

The Milano let out some smoke too, only Marisol was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to. The smoke was starting to obscure her vision.

She wasn't sure how Rocket managed to see anything, but he didn't appear to be very bothered by it.

He narrowed his eyes, sights set on their designated finishing line. The pedals were pushed all the way down, sparks flying from the outside as well now, making Groot jump slightly.

The Milano creaked and groaned, significantly slowing down as it did so. Marisol could just make out the other ship passing them by through the smog their ship had let out.

The pilot of the other ship reached their destination a second before the Milano stalled out.

"Damn it, Rocket!" Quill hissed. He unstrapped himself, jumping up and shoving the smaller creater from the pilot's chair.

"Hey!" Rocket complained. He jumped on to the arm rest, fighting Quill for the wheel. "I know what I'm doing! Let me land this thing!"

"No, you're going to crash my ship!" Peter protested. "You've already ruined the engines, you manic!'

"I was trying to win the race!" Rocket insisted. "It's not my fault your ship is a piece of junk!"

"It's not junk its --"

Gamora let out an angry shout, banging her fist against the arm rest of her chair. "We are plummeting to our deaths! Someone do something about it already!"

Marisol took the controls from where she sat, jerking her wheel upwards and maneuvering the Milano so that it crashed into the plat form of the rest stop rather than the ground several feet below them.

The ship skid across the pavement, running over a few of the smaller pods and bulldozing through a few decorative statues set up around the perimeter. 

She slammed the break pedal down to the floor board, the Milano fortunately skidding to a screeching halt just before they hit the fuel tanks and exploded.

Quill let out a heavy sigh of relief, glaring at Marisol and Rocket. Gamora was shaking her head with disapproval behind them, while Groot trembled in fear.

Drax bellowed out an ear piercing laugh, proving Marisol's theory that he had, in fact, found enjoyment from the race. "Let's do it again!"

"Let's not," Gamora growled.

Peter stood up, throwing his hands in the air as he stared at the smoking engine through the window. "Great, now we're going to have to make repairs too."

"Or we could just steal a better ship," Rocket insisted. "Nova Corps will be lookin' for this one anyways."

Peter sighed, looking pretty irritated about his ship getting trashed. But Rocket was right. The authorities would be on the look out for six inmates who'd escaped the Kyln in the Milano.

It'd be wise to ditch it. Besides, the ship was a total rust bucket anyways. Quill would be much better off with an upgrade.

Gamora threw her straps off, angrily rising to her feet. She pointed an accusing finger at Rocket and Marisol. "Why did you two have to insist on taking that challenge? We should be on our way to the buyer by now! But instead we will have to waste more time because you had to show off!"

Marisol shrugged, not really taking her scolding seriously. "We were bored."

Gamora glared at her. "I don't care! That is no excuse for such stupidity! I would have thought you'd be more cautious, as smart as you claim to be!"

Marisol rolled her eyes for about the millionth time since she'd met the other woman. She really did not have enough stamina to deal with her self righteous attitude. "Sorry we can't call be perfect like you, caballero blanco."

She looked like she was about to throw another insult Marisol's way, but Peter stepped between them, holding his hands up. "Whoa. Okay, look. Arguing isn't going to fix the Milano any faster. Let's just find a mechanic, fix the ship, and get out of here. Okay?"

The two women huffed but reluctantly nodded and backed away from each other.

"Or..." Rocket said slowly. "We could just steal a better ship."

Peter scoffed and turned on him. "You know what. I think you crashed my ship on purpose just so you had an excuse to steal a better one!"

Rocket pointed a claw up at him, a huge smirk forming over his face. "So, you admit your ship is stupid and old!"

Peter's mouth fell open, looking affronted by the comment. "It is not stupid and old!"

"I am Groot," Groot insulted the ship.

"Hey! Rude!" Quill said. He made a face of confusion. "I actually have no idea what you said, I'm just assuming it was rude."

"This is ridiculous! I should have never agreed to work with you people!" Gamora yelled.

"¡Oye!" Marisol protested. "It's not our fault you're a prude!"

Gamora looked as if she were about to start in on her again, but before she could a voice spoke up through the Milano's radio.

"That was some crash there, friends." Marisol froze at the sound of it. Feminine. Soft. Carefree.

She already suspected who it was, but hearing her voice again, having it confirmed...

Marisol wasn't sure she was ready to face the woman on the other end just yet. Not after the way they'd left things the last time they'd seen each other.

If she was right, and she usually was, the pilot of the other ship had been Marisol's ex -- Ziana.

Awkward place to end, I think, but I couldn't think of another way to do it.

I really hope that the race was as cool as I wanted it to be, at the very least I hope it wasn't too boring.