[The colossal Dark Aster hung beside the prison. Compared to this behemoth, the Kyln was not even one-fifth its size.]
[Inside the prison, Ronan's soldiers had already overrun the facility, interrogating the prisoners one by one about the whereabouts of Star-Lord and the others.]
["Please! I don't know where they went! I swear!"]
[Nebula pressed her weapon to a guard's neck, studied his horrified face, and knew he wasn't lying.]
["If these people really knew where they went, they would have told us by now!"]
["Yeah!" the terrified guard pleaded, looking to Ronan for mercy.]
[Just then, a message came through, and Nebula immediately looked up.]
["Ronan! The Nova Corps has dispatched a fleet to defend the prison!"]
[Hearing this, Ronan's frustration was palpable, but he conceded.]
["Fine! So be it! Deploy the Necrocraft to search every corner of the galaxy! Find the Orb! Do whatever it takes! Spare no expense!"]
[Nebula followed him and asked, "What are your orders for this place?"]
[Ronan replied coldly, "The Nova Corps must not know we were here. Clean this place up."]
Aboard the Sovereign command ship, High Priestess Ayesha watched the broadcast with icy fury. Her fleet, dispatched by the High Evolutionary himself, had been en route to Xandar when they received intel that Star-Lord's crew had been detained at the Kyln. They had immediately diverted course, only to be met with this… this cosmic theater. The System broadcasted the escape, followed by the Kree fanatic's brutal decision to erase all witnesses.
Ronan's barbarism had complicated everything.
Ayesha's golden fingers tightened on her command throne. She was furious at the interference but helpless to act. With no idea where the Guardians would go next, her only option was to wait, suppressing her rage while her scouts on Xandar continued to gather information. They would follow the trail laid out by the broadcast, tracking their quarry step by step.
This mission was absolute. Her master, the High Evolutionary, had given her a simple, unwavering command: capture the raccoon, Subject 89P13, alive. Its brain, above all else, had to be brought back intact. Failure was not an option. The continued existence of the Sovereign people depended on her success.
[Xandar, in the Broker's shop.]
[Yondu was idly inspecting a small, blue, frog-like trinket.]
["You got any more little doodads like this? I'd love to get a whole string of 'em for my console!"]
[The Broker frowned. "Are you being serious?"]
[Kraglin put his hands in his pockets and said calmly, "He's dead serious."]
["In that case… I can show you!" The Broker emerged from behind his counter.]
[Yondu smiled.]
["But first, you gotta tell me what that Orb is for. Why does everyone want it so bad?"]
["First, you tell me who wants to buy it!"]
["Sir! This is a high-end client… a very, very distinguished individual…"]
[Before the Broker could finish his sentence, Yondu interrupted him with a low, tuneless whistle.]
[The Broker tried to speak again, and again, but Yondu's incessant whistling cut him off every time. Kraglin couldn't help but chuckle.]
[Exasperated, the Broker finally raised his voice, "I absolutely will not reveal the identity or any information about my client!"]
[In response, Yondu silently lifted the hem of his long coat, revealing the Yaka Arrow holstered at his waist.]
[With a sharp whistle, the arrow shot across the room in a blur of motion, stopping inches from the Broker's face.]
[The Broker's pupils constricted, and the rest of his words died in his throat.]
[Yondu whistled softly, and the arrow crept forward. The terrified Broker scrambled backward until he was pinned against his own counter.]
["Hehehe!" Yondu rubbed his hands together, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Now! How about you tell me who your client is?"]
"Well, that's the end of that," Colonel Rhodes said, crossing his arms. "I've seen a thousand guys like him. All tough talk until things get real. He's going to sing like a canary."
Natasha scoffed. "When it's a choice between life and death, who cares about professional reputation?"
"She's right," Captain America added, his expression grim. "He's an opportunist. He'll keep a secret as long as it's safe and profitable, but the second his own skin is on the line, he'll sell out anyone to save himself. It's not surprising."
Banner smiled faintly. "Yondu knows the guy will fold. He's just enjoying making him squirm."
"This guy's screwed, though," Scott Lang noted, stroking his chin. "His credibility is shot. With the System broadcasting this to the entire universe, he'll never be able to do business again."
Scott was right. In his own timeline, the Broker was already realizing this. As soon as the broadcast showed his interrogation, he had begun frantically packing. His life on Xandar was over. If he didn't flee, it wouldn't be long before his former clients—both the buyers and the sellers he had betrayed—came looking for him.
[The scene changed, showing a man inspecting a tabletop, wiping a speck of dust from his glove with a disgusted look.]
[A red-skinned woman polishing a nearby display case froze, her head bowed.]
["Yes, Master!"]
["Are your arms broken?"]
[Carina didn't understand the question, but she answered with reflexive respect, "No, Master!"]
["Then get them moving! You don't need me to remind you what happened to the last servant who displeased me, do you?"]
[At his words, Carina's gaze unconsciously drifted to the side.]
[Her eyes fell upon another woman with the same red skin, trapped inside a transparent prison.]
[Cruel-looking electrodes were connected to her body, a collar was fastened around her neck, and her hands were bound. The trapped woman looked back at Carina with an expression of pure fear and worry.]
[Carina quickly turned her head away, a flicker of terror crossing her own face.]
["Hurry up! Our guests will be here soon!"]
[Carina immediately redoubled her efforts, frantically polishing the glass.]
"The Collector," Star-Lord breathed, recognizing the flamboyant elder instantly. But the scene was wrong, different from his memory.
The broadcast was showing him a changed past. In his timeline, Thanos had launch an attack to secure the Aether.
He remembered the aftermath. Knowhere, the celestial head he'd visited, had become a dilapidated ruin. The Collector, having lost most of his precious collection, had lost interest in the place and was trying to sell off the entire floating colony. He just couldn't find a buyer. Seeing it now, before the fall, was a strange and unsettling experience.