At the edge of the Milky Way Galaxy, a massive warship sat moored in the pitch-black void of space. Inside one of its compartments, Rocket Raccoon paced restlessly.
"How long are we supposed to wait here? Why does a human need aliens' permission just to go home?"
Peter, seated nearby and stroking an orange tabby in his arms, said, "My species may be human, but I'm still a member of the Ravagers. Thor has no obligation to let an interstellar pirate into his country. Every civilization in the universe is like that."
Mantis, who had been pulled into the Guardians of the Galaxy by Adam's Speedrun guide, was scrubbing the back of Groot, who had been dragged in at the same time. Gamora and Drax, who had also joined then, were playing marbles on the table.
"Enough, Rocket. Stop complaining." Gamora sighed. "Being an independent mercenary group isn't easy. We still need Peter's old man to give us jobs."
"What's the point of being an independent mercenary group?" Rocket jumped onto the table, spread his hands, and glared at them. "Isn't it so we don't have to be constrained by others and can have freedom?"
"But mercenary groups exist to run errands for people." Quill shrugged. "Waiting for the employer's orders is perfectly normal. You just have to learn to accept it."
"And I'd advise you not to provoke Yondu. He's been especially irritable lately." Quill reached over and took the marble the two were playing with, drawing everyone's attention.
"The Ravagers are in bad shape. Who knows what's gotten into the Shi'ar Empire—they've started purging Featherfolk nobles on a massive scale. Their queen seems to want to become a true emperor and stop giving those elders any face."
"You all know the Ravagers originally got their start by smuggling