Deep Space, Aboard Yondu's Ship
"I've had a tracking device on Star-Lord's ship for years," Yondu explained, his weathered blue fingers dancing across the navigation console with practiced ease. The device chirped softly as it locked onto a signal, displaying coordinates that made both captains frown.
Ben wasn't particularly surprised by this revelation. Over the past few months, Yondu had made numerous requests to the Plumbers, ostensibly wanting them to turn over Star-Lord for various bounties. Uncle Ben and Caiera had both assumed the Ravager captain planned to deliver Peter to Ego in exchange for payment, but Ben knew better.
This gruff space pirate had never intended to harm any child under his protection. Years ago, Ego had deceived Yondu into believing he was a grieving father who simply wanted to reconnect with his offspring. When Yondu discovered the truth about Ego's horrific treatment of his children, he'd severed all ties with the false god and raised Peter as his own son.
From beginning to end, Yondu had only one goal: protecting Star-Lord.
The fact that he was actively seeking Ben's help now spoke volumes about how dire he believed the current situation to be. In Yondu's mind, perhaps only the Plumbers possessed enough power to rescue Star-Lord from a Celestial.
"But there's one problem," Ben said, gesturing to his own communication device. "Our Plumber badges have positioning functions too, but Ego has blocked all our signals. What makes your tracker more advanced than Plumber technology?"
Yondu's scarred face creased into what might have been called a smile, though it looked more like a predator baring its teeth. "Ain't about being more advanced, Your Majesty. See, Ego considers you and your Plumbers a genuine threat, powerful enough to actually hurt him. So he's real careful about anything that might be connected to your organization."
The Ravager captain leaned back in his chair, unconsciously straightening with something that might have been pride. "But me? In his eyes, I'm just some insignificant pest. A space rat that ain't worth his attention. He don't care what an ant like me does, long as I stay out of his way."
Rather than being insulted by this characterization, Yondu seemed genuinely pleased with his irrelevance. The Ravager clans might have a fearsome reputation in certain circles, but they were ultimately just well-armed pirates. This particular crew had been exiled from the main Ravager confederation, making them even less significant in the space hierarchy.
Ego feared the Plumbers because they represented the fourth great empire of the galaxy. Ben Parker had defeated Thanos in single combat and casually humiliated Gladiator at the Galactic Federation summit. While Ego might not be afraid of such power, he certainly respected it enough to take precautions.
But Yondu? Yondu was nobody.
"You make a valid point," Ben acknowledged, then fixed the captain with a penetrating stare. "What about your crew? From what I observed, they seem to have some strong opinions about your... protective instincts regarding Star-Lord."
Yondu glanced back toward the corridor where his subordinates were making increasingly loud grumbling noises about their change in plans. His jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. "Once I get that boy back and we divide up the money from those Anulax Batteries, ain't gonna be nobody complaining about nothing."
Ben could hear the hollow bravado in those words, but he chose not to comment. Yondu's relationship with his crew was precarious at best, and they both knew it.
Ego's Planet - The Living World's Garden
Mantis glided gracefully through the sprawling botanical paradise that covered much of Ego's surface, her empathic abilities automatically cataloging the emotional states of her unusual guests. The garden itself was a testament to the Celestial's power, a living museum containing flora from thousands of worlds, including many species that had been extinct for millennia.
Crystalline trees chimed in harmonious notes as gentle breezes passed through their metallic leaves. Flowers the size of dinner plates bloomed in impossible colors, their petals shifting through spectrums that no natural world had ever produced. Streams of liquid light meandered between groves of what appeared to be singing moss, creating an atmosphere that felt more like a fever dream than reality.
"I want you to understand," Ego said, his voice carrying the practiced warmth of a concerned father as he strode through this artificial paradise, "whatever rumors you may have heard about me in the space community, I have no intention of harming my son Peter."
Behind him, Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Princess Looma followed with the careful steps of prisoners trying to maintain their dignity. Their equipment showed clear signs of recent battle damage, scorch marks on Looma's armor, tears in Uncle Ben's enhanced suit, a small cut on May's cheek that she kept dabbing with a handkerchief.
The fight had been brief but decisive. Even Princess Looma, enhanced with the Old Power and possessing strength that could crack mountains, had been utterly outclassed by a Celestial operating within his own body. If they had encountered one of Ego's avatars in open space, the battle might have gone differently. But here, on his home ground, where every atom of matter bent to his will, Ego's power was essentially limitless.
Yet rather than simply destroying them, Ego had chosen to be magnanimous in victory. He'd healed their injuries, repaired their equipment, and invited them to be his guests while he reconnected with his long-lost son.
"I have existed since the dawn of creation," Ego continued, his human avatar's face radiating paternal affection. "Across the eons, I have made countless mistakes, decisions I regret, paths I wish I hadn't taken. But bringing Peter into existence was not one of them."
This statement contained more truth than his guests realized. Among the thousands upon thousands of children buried beneath the planet's surface, the tragic remnants of Ego's previous attempts at reproduction, Peter Quill truly was unique.
First, he was the child of Meredith Quill, the only woman Ego had ever genuinely loved. For years after Yondu had spirited Peter away from Earth, Ego hadn't actively pursued him. Perhaps some part of the Celestial had been genuinely conflicted about whether to condemn this particular child to the same fate as all the others.
Second, and more importantly, Peter was the only offspring who had actually inherited true Celestial power. Ego's previous children had possessed his humanoid DNA but not his space essence. Star-Lord was different, he carried the spark of godhood within him.
For the first time in billions of years, Ego was no longer truly alone.
"Peter, my son..." Ego's voice carried decades of suppressed longing as he turned toward Star-Lord with the kind of expression that spoke of genuine paternal love.
Aunt May shifted uncomfortably, whispering to her husband, "Every time he says 'Peter,' I keep thinking he's talking about our Peter."
"I know what you mean," Uncle Ben murmured back, his eyes distant with worry. "I wonder how Peter and Ben are doing right now."
They weren't concerned about their nephew and son capabilities, both boys had proven themselves capable of handling space-level threats. But that didn't stop the natural parental instinct to worry about the children you loved.
"I miss Ben too!" Princess Looma declared with characteristic volume, her four arms gesturing dramatically. "I still haven't gathered all the proper betrothal gifts for our wedding ceremony! I'm so embarrassed, my beloved must be growing anxious waiting for me to propose properly!"
Uncle Ben and Aunt May exchanged a carefully neutral glance. They both knew about Ben's relationship with Felicia Hardy, and they were fairly certain their nephew had no romantic interest in the Tetramand princess. But pointing that out seemed unnecessarily cruel, especially given Looma's obvious sincerity.
Some distance away, Rocket Raccoon perched on Groot's shoulder, methodically grooming his tail while keeping one eye on the distant figures of Star-Lord and Ego. His enhanced senses picked up fragments of their conversation, and what he heard made his fur stand on end.
"Never thought that brain-dead orphan would actually find his old man," Rocket muttered, though his tone carried more concern than his usual sarcasm. "Something about this whole setup stinks worse than a Skrull garbage barge."
"I am Groot," his partner agreed solemnly.
"Yeah, exactly! You see it too!" Rocket's voice rose with agitation. "That Ego guy reminds me way too much of the High Evolutionary. All smooth talk and fake smiles, but underneath..." He shuddered, traumatic memories flickering behind his cybernetic implants.
Groot extended a gentle vine to pat his friend's head, offering wordless comfort for pain that would never fully heal.
"I'm not getting emotional!" Rocket snapped, though his voice cracked slightly. "Your stupid branch just poked me in the eye!"
His outburst drew concerned looks from Uncle Ben and Aunt May, but the elderly couple wisely chose not to comment directly. They'd raised one emotionally complicated teenager, they recognized defense mechanisms when they saw them.
Mantis, meanwhile, found herself drawn to these strangers from beyond her world. Living on Ego's planet for most of her existence, serving as little more than a living sedative for the Celestial's darker moods, she'd never experienced the kind of emotional warmth that radiated from Uncle Ben and Aunt May.
"Are all the women in the galaxy as strong as Miss Looma?" Mantis asked, her large eyes wide with curiosity as she walked beside them.
"Oh, heavens no," Aunt May laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Looma is quite exceptional. Most of us are perfectly ordinary people who try our best to help where we can."
"What about that small furry creature?" Mantis continued, pointing at Rocket. "Is it a pet? It's so adorable!"
"I wouldn't let him hear you say that," Uncle Ben warned with amusement. "Rocket takes his dignity very seriously."
The questions kept coming, each one revealing just how isolated Mantis had been from normal social interaction. She peppered them with inquiries about everything from family structures to recreational activities, her hunger for connection almost heartbreaking in its intensity.
What Uncle Ben and Aunt May didn't realize was that Mantis's empathic abilities were feeding her far more information than their words conveyed. Every moment spent in their presence filled her with sensations she'd never experienced, the steady warmth of unconditional love, the protective fierce joy that came from watching someone grow, the complex satisfaction of a life spent in service to others.
Ego's emotional landscape was a wasteland of space indifference and calculated manipulation. But these two humans... they felt like home. Like safety. Like everything she'd never known she was missing.
By the time they reached the resting area Ego had prepared, a collection of pavilions that seemed to grow directly from the planet's surface, Mantis was practically vibrating with internal conflict. Her empathic connection to Uncle Ben and Aunt May had awakened something she'd thought buried: a conscience.
She could feel their genuine care for Star-Lord, their worry for their own family, their instinctive trust in others. The contrast with Ego's emotional emptiness was stark enough to make her physically uncomfortable.
As she prepared to leave them to rest, Mantis found herself hovering at the entrance to their pavilion, her antennae glowing softly with agitation.
"Is something wrong, dear?" Aunt May asked, her natural motherly instincts picking up on the young woman's distress.
Mantis opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Around them, the artificial paradise continued its eternal performance, beautiful and lifeless as a painted backdrop. In the distance, she could feel Ego's satisfaction as he began corrupting Star-Lord with half-truths and space power.
She wanted to warn them. She wanted to tell them about the thousands of skeletons buried beneath their feet, about Ego's true plans for Peter, about the horror that awaited anyone who stood in the false god's way.
But the words caught in her throat, trapped by years of conditioning and the very real fear of what Ego would do if he discovered her betrayal.
Instead, she simply whispered, "Sleep well. Tomorrow... tomorrow may bring difficult choices."
Then she fled into the night, leaving behind three people who were growing increasingly certain that their host was not what he seemed.
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