Inside the former Kree Frigate docked near Pluto, Star-Lord Quill, dressed in a NASA uniform, crouched beneath an instrument panel and used a wrench to repair the components inside.
Rocket Raccoon sat on a nearby workbench eating popcorn. Quill glanced back at him and said, "If you've got nothing better to do, go to the Tool Room next door and bring me the directional breaching charges. You really can't repair Kree ships without some demolition tools."
Rocket tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth, snorted, and said, "Are you really planning to keep working as a mechanic forever? What happened to your dream of interstellar exploration? Your adventurous spirit?"
"Are you kidding? I was a NASA employee to begin with. I'm just returning to my regular job." Quill stood up and fiddled with the component he had just removed. "Do you really think I enjoy risking my life as a mercenary in space? Do you know how much money there is in repairing spaceships?"
"Give it a rest. You're doing this for your old flame." Rocket jumped down from the workbench, snatched the part from his hand, walked over to the opening Quill had made, and fixed the ship's component in a few quick movements with his wrench. He let his shoulders slump, sighed, tossed the wrench aside, and sat on the floor.
"Fine, I'm a robot. I can't feel how terrifying that cancerous universe you went to was. But you've rested for so long. Don't tell me you still haven't gotten over the trauma?"
Quill's hand paused on the table. He walked over to Rocket Raccoon, sat down in front of him, and said, "It's not entirely because of that terrible universe. Don't you think that, in the face of those horrifying things lurking among the stars, what