Shifting Eyes

CHAPTER TEN

Amidst the dimly lit ship, I sit on the upside-down bucket, contemplating my next move. The air crackled with anticipation as I weighed the possibilities in my mind. Should I transform into a cunning Zygerrian, bulky but agile? Or perhaps a sharp Theelin, horns embedded in my skull and the color of a dangerous red?

My eyes glimmer with a hint of mischief as they consider the advantages of each form. The Zygerrian would grant me heightened senses, a form with burly muscles, two sets of arms, and a furry hide. Its ferocious presence would strike fear into the hearts of anyone, no doubt. On the other hand, a Theelin symbolizes a swift advantage. They had incredible eyesight due to the six eyes that they were given.

A sigh escapes my lips as I realize the difficulty of my decision. Each form held its own allure, each offering a unique set of abilities.

After moments of contemplation, I make my choice. With a surge of energy, my body shifted and morphed, embracing the essence of my selected form. In a matter of seconds, I become the embodiment of my decision, forgetting the audience I currently have, in the heat of my excitement.

I open my eyes to a sight I hadn't thought of before. A detailed, revolting ship comes into focus and I can't help but let out a groan. Gods, does Quill ever clean?

"Holy shi-" A yelp sounds out from next to me and a thudding noise follows.

"Rocket? What, what is it?" I look around for something that would illicit Rocket's reaction but come up empty.

I stand up to my full form, noticing I'm noticeably taller now. I swipe my claws over the small but sharp horns that lay mostly covered by my short hair. Tivan's uniform stretches and allows for the changes in my person, yet I pull down on the skirt. As I do, I notice the burning red color of my skin and black slashes and stripes that swirl around my body. I know the tribal markings of a Theelin trail along the face as well and forget about Rocket for a moment in search of a mirror or reflective surface—half to see myself in a new form for the first time in what feels like forever, and the other half is to see if I got the proportions correct. Despite being away from the confines of Tivan's grip, I can't help but be habitual.

"Okay, I-I don't know what the hell is going on, but put your hands up!" Rocket's shout stops me in my tracks. I slowly turn around with my hands raised. Rocket has his new weapon up and pointed directly at my chest. I nervously flick my eyes between the gun and Rocket's face.

With a deep breath, I try to calm the tense atmosphere. "Rocket, it's me," I say, my voice steady yet filled with a tinge of uncertainty. "I've transformed into a Theelin. I didn't mean to startle you." Rocket's eyes narrow as he studies me, his finger still on the trigger. "Prove it," he demands, his voice cautious.

My mouth hangs open, no words coming out. What am I supposed to say? Rocket and I don't know each other enough for him to know if I am who I say I am.

"Rocket," I start, emphasizing his name. "I can shapeshift. I am still Waylon—"

"DRAX!" Rocket howls through the ship. "You better not fricken' move."

As Rocket repositions his gun, I take a shot in the dark. "Rocket! Pl-please, just listen to me," I try to swallow to alleviate my dry throat, but nothing goes down. "I was born on a planet of war. My parents couldn't keep me; there was a mass genocide of my people. I barely made it out as it is. Don't pull the trigger, I have not gotten to see what life was like. My whole life I've been pushed around, enslaved, and abused for my abilities. Do you know what that's like, not being able to have your freedom?" I feel tears falling down my face but I don't care.

Rocket's grip on the gun loosens slightly as my words seem to penetrate his hardened exterior. I continue, my voice filled with raw emotion, "I understand you may not trust me, Rocket, but please, give me a chance." Rocket's eyes soften as he looks at me and it looks like he is about to put the gun down. Until Drax comes barreling in.