Shifting Eyes

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Alright. Let's do this thing." Rocket says as he opens the doors to the watchtower.

We see the main guard in there, directing all the officers to his location in full combat gear.

He meekly puts his hands up when he sees us standing by the door.

We walk in, making ourselves at home as Groot throws the man out of his chair.

I see Drax walk in behind us. I faintly smile, glad he won't be stuck here without my presence.

Gamora looks behind her at Drax, alarmed at the large killer tagging along.

"Spare me your foul gaze, woman." He says in her face.

Gamora looks over at Quill. "Why is this one here?" She points to him.

"We promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss," I raise an eyebrow at the word 'we.' "I always keep my promises, when they're to muscle-bound whack-jobs who will kill me if I don't." Quill studies the leg he has in his hands before slamming it onto the control panel of the watchtower, right next to rocket who is typing away on the random keys.

"Here you go."

Rocket looks at the prosthetic leg on the table.

"Oh, I was just kidding about the leg, I just need these two things."

"What?" Quill asks, annoyed.

"No, I thought it'd be funny. Was it funny? Oh, wait, what did he look like hopping around?" I roll my eyes at his immaturity.

"I had to transfer him 30,000 units!"

Rocket just laughs at him.

"Enough! We need to focus on getting out of here. Rocket, how's it coming?" I say, eager to escape.

"Relax, I was just having some fun." He says, trying to annoy me.

"How are we going to leave?" Drax asks.

A drone starts shooting at the window, making everyone duck. Sparks fly off of the glass, lighting up the small room a bit more.

"Well, he's got a plan. Right? Or is that another thing you made up?" Quill accuses Rocket.

Rocket slides around the control panel in the wheeley chair, clicking buttons, unhooking wires, and plugging things in.

"I have a plan! I have a plan!" He reassures us.

"Cease your yammering and relieve us from this irksome confinement." Drax says.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one." Quill says looking out the window.

"Do not ever call me a thesaurus." He demands, completely serious.

"It's just a metaphor, dude." Quill responds weirded out.

"Drax is completely literal." I inform, knowing that he's never once laughed at any of my jokes and would often ask what I meant when I used figurative language.

"Metaphors are gonna go over his head." Rocket adds on, still working on his plan to get us out.

"Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it."

"I'm gonna die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy." Gamora mumbles out from next to me.

We all look out the big windows when we see movement. What we see is not in our favor.

All the guards have geared up fully, and are lined up in firing positions. They carry large cannon-looking guns with them.

"Those are some big guns." Quill makes the obvious observation.

I see them all lift their guns as the Sargent demands them to.

"On my command! Number One!" He shouts as a man shoots at the windows. The glass cracks and I suddenly feel ten times worse about our plan.

"Rodent, we are ready for your plan." Gamora states.

"Hold on!" Rocket says as he slides around the panel once more.

We all stare apprehensively at the guns below.

"Number two!" Another gun is shot and another window is cracked.

"I recognize this animal. We roast them over a flame pit as children. The flesh is quite delicious." Drax says as he gestures towards Rocket, smiling.

"Not helping!" Rocket and I both yell at him as I place two of my hands on the desk and the other one holding my injured arm.

"Number three!" The gun cracks the last window and I see a shard fall out, exposing us to them.

The sergeant seems to notice that one more shot would do it for us, and he orders all of the guns to fire on his last command.

"Three! Two! One!" I duck down under the counter, not sure if it would do anything to protect myself, but its better than standing around in range.

I had expected to be blown to pieces. But nothing happens. I pop my head over the desk to see what happened.

I catch a glimpse of a floating guard, and continue to stare at the strangeness.

Gamora leans over Rocket to look out the window more clearly. "You turned off the artificial gravity, everywhere but in here." She laughs a little in disbelief.

"What? Didn't think I could do it?" He aims his question at me, still cowering under the desk. I squint my eyes at him, but stand back up to see what he's done.

He then pulls a lever and we begin to float. The drones fly over to us and we are propelled into a hangar that he opens. I have to clutch onto the desk for stability because of the speed we have.

"I told you I had a plan." He drives us farther away.

A guard hits the cracked glass, but doesn't break it thankfully. As we go through the hangar door, we hit the walls and floor, bouncing along, making me sick to my stomach.

We stop abruptly and Rocket closes the door behind us.

"That was a pretty good plan." Quill compliments Rocket.

"Huh?" Rocket looks around at us, impressed with his own work.

Quill then breaks the glass with his foot and we all climb out. We open the boxes they had our clothes in and retrieve our belongings.

"Yeah! There its is! Get my ship. Its the Milano, the orange and blue one over in the corner." Quill says as he points out the window for us to see.

"They crumpled my pants up into a ball. Aw, thats rude, they folded yours!" Rocket says, pointing towards the clothing garment I had been wearing when I escaped Tivan. I just shrug my shoulders and follow after Drax as we run towards the Milano.