Guardians of the Galaxy - Annihilation: Conquest

PART ONE

THE SAVIOR

CHAPTER ONE

HALA, THE HOMEWORLD OF THE KREE

EMPIRE—TODAY

PETER QUILL was feeling pretty good.

It was a hot day, especially in the metal jungle that was Hala’s capital city. Even though he was sweating, Peter had a big smile on his face as he walked towards the planet’s largest spaceport.

His current mission was going better than expected. It was always a gamble to go into business with a race as self-interested as the Kree, but the money was good, and he was enjoying being a hero for a change. Instead of his usual ‘job’ of being chased across the galaxy by someone who had accused him of something he may or may not have actually done, this time he was acting as a freelance defense network advisor following a series of intergalactic combat triumphs that had surprised even him. He could get used to being on this side of the law.

The defense network upgrade had been Ronan’s idea, and the Kree leader had reached out to Star-Lord first, impressed by Quill’s escapades during the seemingly never-ending conflicts that had been raging across the galaxy for the last several weeks. Months? Years? Peter wasn’t even sure anymore. It felt to him like he’d been jumping from massive battle to massive battle lately, and he was glad they were finally over.

In a few minutes, he’d be meeting up with the Space Knights, an elite group of cyborg warriors created on Galador to battle a race called the Dire Wraiths.

Peter had faced off against a Dire Wraith once in a dark alley back on Earth. It hadn’t been the prettiest confrontation in his life, but he’d come out victorious (and covered in Dire Wraith guts, but that was a whole other story).

After this job on Hala, he was going to finally take some time off. He had more than earned a little peace and quiet. And money. Well, he hadn’t exactly earned the money just yet, but he was pretty darn close.

Quill!

Peter looked over and saw Ten-Cor approaching. The Kree suns reflected gently off her blue skin and Peter found himself smiling. She’d become a good friend in the last few weeks, and he really enjoyed spending time with her while they worked together on Hala’s defense network.

I’m impressed, Ten-Cor said, looking at Peter appraisingly.

Peter checked out his outfit and nodded. Yep, this new outfit was pretty

sweet—even

he had to admit it. He’d recently purchased it on credit from a Kymellian trader on Deneb-7. He’d soon have more than enough to pay him and the Rigellians back. And then some.

Right? I just bought it. Nicest threads I’ve ever owned.

Ten-Cor looked at him as if he’d just insulted her puppy. I was not talking about your clothes, you ridiculous Earthling, she responded, grinning back at him. I meant this mission. Negotiating a deal between Lord Ronan and the Space Knights. That was no small task.

Aw shucks, he said.

Please do not pretend to be humble, ‘Star-Lord,’ and just admit that you worked your donkey off to improve the defense capabilities of Hala, all for a very reasonable price.

Peter cocked his head at her.

Donkey?

That is the word, is it not? I am still figuring out the nuances of English.

Donkey works for me, Peter admitted. I just hope this Galadorian technology does what the Space Knights are promising it will.

As do I and the rest of the Kree Council. This defense network upgrade will make a significant difference, especially after the damage we have incurred with the ceaseless wars. What it will do for the fleet, the sentries, the surface systems. It is a new day for Hala, and I cannot thank you enough.

My pleasure, Peter said, tipping an imaginary hat. Confusion creased Ten-Cor’s face. Peter started to explain what tipping one’s hat meant on Earth, but then stopped. He’d never seen a single Kree wearing a hat, other than the helmets the warrior class donned before battle. Once today’s initial demonstration is over, we can integrate it fully into Hala’s grid, and then I can go on vacation.

Vacation, Ten-Cor huffed. "Such a human concept."

Darn straight, Peter replied.

*   *   *

PETER ARRIVED at the central landing pad on the spaceport rooftop with a full cadre of stone-faced Kree warriors. He grinned at their leader, an especially emotionless man named Tur-Van, who gave no indication that he’d seen the smile or shared in Quill’s excitement for the imminent arrival of the Space Knights.

After a moment, the five cybernetic warriors touched down a few feet in front of Peter and the Kree honor guard. Quill wasn’t easily awed, and even less likely to show it when he was, but he had to admit to himself that the armored cyborgs were impressive. Each one was a different color, with slightly different armor, and he could practically feel the power radiating from their metal shells. He didn’t know a ton about the Space Knights, no one did, but their reputation as fierce fighters seemed well-deserved, at least at first glance.

Gentlemen! Peter practically shouted, a little too eager, then toned himself down. "A-hem. My name is Peter Quill, though perhaps you know me

as… Star-Lord."

He waited for a reaction. There was none.

Probably because they’re cyborgs, he reasoned to himself.

I’m the Special Advisor to the Kree government, Peter continued. And I’m pleased to formally welcome you to Hala.

One of the Knights, the silver one, stepped forward, its eyes glowing red. It was the tallest and broadest of them all, and Peter swallowed nervously. He’d gone up against all kinds of enemies, large and small, humanoid

and… not-so

humanoid, and this was one entity that he was glad was an ally.

I am Daystar, the Space Knight said, its voice mechanized and completely devoid of emotion. Peter had heard that some of the Space Knights could imitate emotion, but it was clearly not an attribute Daystar possessed. I serve the Space Knight Restitution Initiative. In my travels across the galaxy, I have heard nothing but positive comments about the Star-Lord.

Aww yeah, Peter thought, nodding appreciatively. Dude already knew my codename.

We are pleased that the Kree are working with you, Daystar finished.

Yeah, they’re not so bad when they stop fighting the Skrulls for two seconds, amirite? Peter joked, then realized he was surrounded by a bunch of cyborgs and Kree soldiers, neither of which was known for their sense of humor. The soldiers behind him shifted awkwardly.

I… suppose,

Daystar responded, apparently attempting to process the comment.

Good job, Peter, you’re the only person in the galaxy who can make a cyborg feel awkward.

If Galadorian technology can improve Kree defenses, especially after so many intergalactic conflicts, we are pleased to be of help. Daystar glanced at its companions. There are not many Space Knights left after our seemingly endless battles with the Dire Wraiths. We appreciate that Hala is one of the most important lines of defense in this quadrant, and we recognize the need to bolster those defenses, for the sake of all innocent life. This technology benefits the Kree Empire, and thus all of us.

Peter fought against an urge to give Daystar a high five.

I agree wholeheartedly, he said stiffly instead. Just finish this job and then you get to go on vacation, he reminded himself.

There was a long moment of silence and Peter looked around, confused, then realized that everyone was waiting on him.

Oh! he said, smiling and holding his arms out. Okay! Time for the demonstration. Of course.

Peter looked at Tur-Van and nodded. The commanding Kree officer opened a small compartment on the forearm of his armor and punched in a series of commands on a screen hidden there. For a moment, nothing happened.

Uh-oh, Peter thought after almost uttering it out loud.

However, a moment later, a section of the large metal floor began to move nearby, revealing dozens of shadowed figures that grew in clarity as Hala’s suns showcased their details.

Another platform below raised the figures fully into the light and Peter smiled at the sight. Fifty huge Kree sentries, fully robotic: silent, implacable, unmoving.

The Space Knights glanced at each other, as if saying, That’s it?

Peter nodded at Tur-Van again, and the latter punched in another series of commands. The sentries’ eyes blazed to life, an eerie green that cut through the intense daylight, and a deep hum filled the air. Peter smiled as he felt the sentries booting up through the ground. There was some serious power being displayed

here… and

they hadn’t even really gotten started.

Okay, let’s go, Peter uttered confidently, and Tur-Van punched in the final commands. The sentries suddenly shot into the air in unison, a perfect and clearly deadly formation. Peter watched the Space Knights’ faces and noticed what almost looked like satisfaction flash across their metallic visages.

The sentries performed several complex drills in the sky, showcasing their power and firing capabilities. Several Kree surface-to-air ships also performed impressive moves on the outskirts of the demonstration, further showcasing the Kree’s renewed might.

Peter moved forward, removing the most important item of the day from inside his coat. It wasn’t large, not much bigger than a cell phone on Earth, but its importance could hardly be understated.

This device, which Peter himself had helped conceive, design and create, would connect the Space Knights to the Kree defense network, allowing the two races to coordinate their moves the next time someone was foolish enough to mount a large-scale attack on multiple star systems. This kind of cooperation was unprecedented for either race, and Peter stood at the center of this groundbreaking moment. He realized he was beaming as he held out the device but just went with the feeling instead of concealing his pride. He’d never been good at shielding his emotions anyway.

Kree leadership is aware that we will be accessing their mainframe, correct? Daystar asked mechanically.

Yep! Peter responded. Lord Ronan himself is watching the demonstration from his flagship. I know we can’t see him, but I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my neck. Not gonna lie, that guy still kind of scares me! Peter laughed but the laughter died when the Space Knight just continued to stare at him.

Star-Lord cleared his throat and continued: We’re going to upload your Galadorian upgrades through the lead Kree ships, as well as the sentries that are doing their best to impress you very-difficult-to-impress Space Knights. Then we can run some threat scenarios. Cool?

Daystar stared at him. An awkward moment of silence stretched out as the air show continued above.

Would you like to do the honors? Peter asked, holding the device up in front of Daystar.

Peter had never seen a Space Knight smile, had heard from multiple people on multiple planets that they never showed emotion to

outsiders—and

probably never showed it, period. But if you’d asked him to place a bet in that moment, he probably would have put down a sizable one that Daystar had must smirked.

But no, that was impossible. It must have been the way the light was hitting the cyborg’s metallic face.

With pleasure, Daystar replied, showing no actual pleasure other than that mirage of a smile.

While the Kree sentries continued their impressive defensive dance above, surrounded by the nimble airships, the lead Space Knight punched a series of commands into Quill’s device, connecting his network to the Kree defense system. Daystar cocked his head for a moment, as if he’d heard something in the distance, and then took a step back.

Connection complete, the Space Knight announced.

Fantastic, Peter responded.

He let out a long breath. It had worked. Now he could relax.

Finally.

CHAPTER TWO

THE OUTWORLD OF

LAMENTIS—AROUND

THE SAME TIME

THE TRAIL of dark purple blood shimmered in the snow.

The hunters followed it slowly, gripping their assault weapons tightly in their gloved hands. Everything was silent except for the crunching noises their military boots made while walking through the wintery wasteland.

After a few minutes, the lead hunter, a Chitauri named Kraddus, held up his fist and the party halted noiselessly.

They’d been hunting the family of frost minx for days. The matriarch was

wounded—badly,

judging by the amount of blood on the

ground—but

she and her pups were still moving at an impressive clip. The animal’s meat was useless, poison to almost every race in the known

universe—but

the gold and green fur would fetch more than a fair price on Deneb-7.

The hunting party was made up of multiple aliens, and in a different time, they might have found themselves pitted against each other in an intergalactic conflagration. But for now, they all shared a common characteristic that bonded them together despite the intense cold.

Greed.

They’re in there, Kraddus whispered into his headset, pointing his gun at a copse ahead of them. The other hunters nodded, fanning out just liked they’d discussed at the beginning of the hunt.

The guns they clutched were overkill, they all would have admitted that if pressed, but this excursion wasn’t about a fair fight. It was about making money and making it as fast as possible.

They’d started the hunt as equals, but since Kraddus had drawn first blood, he was now the unofficial leader, and the other mercenaries grudgingly followed his orders.

Moving forward in a unified semicircle, the hunters entered the small forest. It was even quieter in here, the ground somewhat protected from the constant snowfall by the large, multicolored trees that rose into the sky.

Kraddus continued to follow the blood, clocking the rest of his party in the corners of his eyes. If he could finish the kill by himself, perhaps he could claim a larger portion of the eventual credits.

Or perhaps he would be the only one to leave this deity-forsaken planet after a series of unfortunate but ultimately beneficial accidents. Stranger things had been known to happen to some of his former partners.

He inched forward as quickly as possible without giving himself away to his quarry. There. Just behind a small bush and tucked away between two rocks. He could see the animals’ breath rising through the branches.

Kraddus glanced over. The other hunters were far enough away that he could finish

this—and

then maybe finish them. He smiled as he slowly aimed at the small hidden crevice and placed his finger gently on the trigger. It was almost too

easy…

The whining sound of an energy blast filled the air, followed a millisecond later by a concussive attack that hit Kraddus square in the chest, throwing him back twenty feet, where he crashed into the snow, his breath ballooning out of his lungs with a pained grunt.

"What in the name of the

Celestials…?!"

he spat, quickly grabbing his gun from where he’d dropped it and scrambling to his feet.

A lone figure descended from the sky. A woman. Wispy silver hair. Wearing a skintight red-and-yellow suit complemented by a black cape that swirled in the wind as she touched down in front of the rock where the frost minx had been hiding. Kraddus had no doubt the animals were long gone, and cursed his luck, and the woman as well. They’d have to take care of her, then start their hunt all over again.

He blinked snow out of his eyes and got a better look at her. She had what looked like a scar running down the right side of her face, above and below the eye, and the socket there was just a glowing orb. Likewise, two luminous bands were wrapped around each wrist, one of which was still pulsating from the energy attack it had clearly just delivered. It took a second for his brain to register the weapons on her forearms, but then it clicked.

Those were the Quantum Bands.

Quasar…

he uttered, his stomach dropping.

Well, she said, an angry smile appearing on her face, my friends call me Phyla-Vell, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.

The bands were beginning to glow again when Quasar was suddenly hit in the back and sides by multiple energy attacks. The other hunters had completed their circle and were just as annoyed as Kraddus at the loss of their prey.

Phyla-Vell collapsed to the ground, her hands pushing into a pile of snow between two trees, the bands glowing eerily under the white powder.

More! Kraddus shouted. "She’s Quasar! If we bring her

in… dead

or

alive… we’ll

all be very rich men!"

The other hunters didn’t need to hear anything else. They doubled their attack, moving closer as they did so. Kraddus pulled his trigger with glee, adding to the violent barrage.

Quasar was clearly in pain, but she managed to stand and raise an energy barrier, shielding herself from the assault. Snarling, she took to the air again and fired power beams from both arms, sending two of the hunters crashing into large trees. They landed at the bases of the trunks, unmoving.

The other hunters fired wildly at her, but she moved through the air like she’d been born to it, smashing her energized fists into another hunter, burying him in the snow. Without even looking, she blasted another man behind her and grabbed yet another’s weapon as he closed on her, and broke it in half over her knee. She punched the surprised hunter so hard that he spun a hundred and eighty degrees and collapsed onto the snow-dusted ground.

Quasar quickly turned and hit the second-to-last hunter with what could only be described as a ‘rope’ of energy that lashed out from the Quantum Band on her left hand. It caught the snarling man in his face and sent him snapping back into the shadow of a large tree.

Turning slowly, she faced off against Kraddus, her breathing slow and steady. She’d fought all kind of intergalactic threats since taking on the mantle of Quasar, but this conflict felt particularly satisfying. She’d always despised those who preyed on the weak and innocent.

The Chitauri leveled his weapon, aiming it between her eyes as she walked calmly towards him. At this range, he was confident he could blow the interloper’s head clear off, despite her seeming resistance to the earlier attacks.

Go ahead, she said, her right eye glowing, "Do your

w—Arrrrrgh!"

A bolt of pain exploded inside Phyla-Vell’s head, making her see literal stars and a very specific planet. The pain was so intense that she fell to her knees and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the unexpected images out of her mind.

"You must reach him before they do," a voice intoned within her mind.

She was vaguely aware of the hunter placing the muzzle of his weapon against her temple, but she was unable to do anything about it. Waves of dizziness and nausea racked her body as the images pulsed in and out of her brain. It was almost as if it was a message, an SOS, repeating itself over and over again.

I’d make more if I brought you in alive, Kraddus said through a cruel grin, but I’m going to enjoy killing you so much that it’s more than worth it.

Just as he started to pull the trigger, a green boot came flying out of nowhere and smashed into his face, throwing him to the ground. His weapon slipped out of his hands and landed nearby.

What now?! he shouted, wiping yellow blood from his mouth.

Another woman stood between him and Quasar, dressed all in green, her bald head gleaming softly in the little light that made its way through the gently swaying branches overhead.

Heather…?

Phyla-Vell whispered, confused, unsure if this was part of the hallucinations that were playing out in her mind.

Kraddus grabbed for his weapon and brought it to bear as quickly as possible. I don’t know who you are, ‘Heather,’ but I’m sure you will fetch a pretty penny on the slavers’ block.

I am Moondragon, she answered, dodging the hunter’s attack, and leveling him with a nasty right hook, sending him back down to the ground a final time. And I fetch for no man.

Heather Douglas stood for a moment, surveying her surroundings. All the hunters were clearly unconscious, but she reached out telepathically to confirm that none were about to wake up. Satisfied, she quickly made her way to Quasar’s side, her knee crunching small sticks and snow as she knelt.

Phyla, are you okay? Talk to me.

Quasar blinked rapidly as the images finally started to fade.

"I… I

don’t know what just happened. Something invaded my mind during the battle, she said, allowing Moondragon to help her to her feet. Whatever it was, it almost got me killed."

May I? Heather asked.

Phyla-Vell nodded. Though they were as close as two people could be, they had agreed early in their relationship that Moondragon would never peer into her mind without her express permission.

Heather placed her hand on Quasar’s cheek, more an act of tenderness than a necessity to unlock her telepathic powers, and gently probed.

Strange, she muttered. I don’t recognize that planet, but I know exactly who spoke to you. She withdrew her mind from Phyla-Vell’s. It was the High Evolutionary.

Seriously? Quasar said, starting to feel like herself again. What is he doing, sending me messages? I mean, I know he’s constantly playing dice with the universe, so to speak. But why me? Why now?

I... do not know, Moondragon responded. But I sense no deception in the message. Something is happening. And he needs our help. I just wish I knew where he was trying to send you.

That’s the easy part. That planet I saw was Morag IV. She stared down at the Quantum Bands, which glowed softly. "I’m still getting used to these, but I think you’re right. Those images aren’t random. I suspect something important is happening

there… or

is going to happen. The bands pulsed brighter, as if responding to her words. I know we came here for some peace and quiet after everything we’ve both been through. But we’re needed on Morag, Heather. I just don’t know why, or what dangers we might face."

Heather took Phyla-Vell’s hand in her own.

Based on what I saw in your mind, what the High Evolutionary said, I agree, Moondragon replied. I sense that there is someone there who needs our help. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. But first, let’s drop these hunters off at the local authorities. If I was a betting woman, I’d guess that these are wanted men somewhere in the galaxy.

Quasar smiled and began gathering the men up in an energy sphere while Moondragon made short work of their weapons, smashing them into so much garbage, which Phyla-Vell then incinerated.

Despite the sunlight that peeked down through the leaves and the sound of the now-safe frost minx skittering in the distance, Phyla-Vell couldn’t shake the imagery that echoed in her mind. Something big was on the horizon, something that she suspected could threaten every living thing in the universe.

CHAPTER THREE

THE CAPITAL CITY OF

HALA—SEVERAL

MINUTES EARLIER

STAR-LORD NODDED his head, satisfied.

Glancing over at the Kree soldiers, who still stared into the sky with blank expressions, he laughed and took a step closer to them. It’s okay, Tur-Van, you’re allowed to celebrate now.

None of the Kree soldiers celebrated or indicated that they’d even heard Peter. However, Tur-Van’s eyes suddenly widened.

Quill…

he uttered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Peter felt his smile fading as he looked up, just in time to witness one of the sentries smashing into a Kree airship, both exploding in a massive fireball. After a moment, the sound of the crash reached the ground.

What happened?! Peter shouted at Tur-Van.

The lead Kree soldier flipped open his control module again, and his face quickly went dark. I’m completely locked out! He looked up at his fellow soldiers and nodded pointedly as debris began raining down around them. They understood his silent command and scrambled in an orderly fashion, their training kicking in immediately.

"This… This

isn’t possible," Peter said, looking at the device he had created to initiate the defense grid upload. The screen, which should have been full