we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever,
nothing's gonna stop us now!

- starship

___________________

The sweet, smooth sound of music drifted through the Milano on a late Saturday evening. It was an hour past supper, and Quill had decided to put on some of his tunes whilst his crew lounged with full stomachs and content hearts. It had been over three months since the Ego incident, and things were just beginning to return to normal.

Quill and Gamora were lounged carelessly on one of the ship's bunks. She was taking a brief cat nap with her head on Quill's chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. The captain had one arm around her shoulders that pulled her close, the other was stretched behind his head. Quill was watching her peaceful, resting face with an affectionate grin. How had he gotten so lucky?

Rocket, with baby Groot perched on his shoulder, was down in the engine room tinkering with the ship's acceleration mechanics. The raccoon was aiming to cut the start-up time in half so the Milano could make hasty getaways the next time the crew got into a jam. He hummed Quill's songs as he worked; he had heard them all so many times, he knew them by heart. Groot, content to be with his companion, simply sat there with a happy air about him.

Drax and Mantis were in the canteen, taking turns telling stories whilst they mulled over their scraps of food. They had remained there after the rest of the crew took their leave, simply talking of their pasts. Drax was telling a story about the day his daughter hunted her first Kree, and he told it with such vigor that Mantis didn't have to touch his hand to sense his pride. The two sat howling with laughter in the canteen for hours to come.

Amada was at the wheel of the Milano with her feet kicked up on the dash, a book in her lap. Quill had gotten her this book from a ravager shop as her birthday present. He knew his sister loved anything to do with their home planet, Earth, so he hadn't bothered reading the back before paying for it and stuffing it into his jacket. He really should have read it, though, because he would have been interested to know what the book - Fifty Shades of Gray - was about. Amada read it with weird curiosity. Was this what Earth was really like?

So, it truly seemed that the crew of the Milano was at peace. They hadn't accepted any missions since the Ego incident. They were just focused on healing over the past few months, but they were beginning to grow restless. Even Quill, who was the most deeply affected, was ready to get back into action.

The only problem was, for the first time in forever, the galaxy was pretty quiet. The search for the infinity stones was cold, most of the planets were handling their own crimes, and there was now a massive shortage in powerful celestials looking to take over the galaxy. That's why Amada was pretty shocked when something popped up on the communication tablet by the captain's chair.

The woman closed her book and set it on a nearby table, swiveling her chair to look at the notification. It was an incoming call from Pyre, one of the more developed planets when compared to Earth. Amada knew it was usually Quill who accepted these calls, but she was the co-captain, after all, and she was itching for a mission just as badly as the rest of the Guardians.

She pressed the green button and was face to screen with a yellow-skinned alien man. Even though his features were difficult to read, she could definitely sense the strictness about his manner. He was wearing green military fatigues that clashed with his banana colored skin. His purple eyes were trained straight on Amada.

"Guardians of the Galaxy," he bellowed, seemingly unaware - or maybe uncaring - that he was only speaking to one Guardian. "I, Humar Gartera of Pyre, have a job for you all to carry out."

Amada raised a brow as a smirk found a place on her lips. "I'm listening," she encouraged him as she kicked her feet back up onto the dash once again. She knew Quill would kick her ass if he saw her dusty combat boots on his dash, but he was out of the room, and she was confident she could get away with it.

"The Pyre council of leaders is prepared to pay you a sum of a million credits for the capture and delivery of one Loki Laufeyson," he hissed the name with a blatant animosity and hate.

Amada, who had chosen to take a drink out of her flask when Humar went to speaking, choked and coughed on her brandy when she heard the payout. One million credits. That greedy raccoon bastard in the engine room would have had a happy heart attack. She tried to regain her poker face as Humar furrowed his brow at her. "Yeah, keep goin'," she croaked as the burning in her throat began to subside.

"The citizens of Pyre have heard what Loki has done to Earth, and we wish to bring him to justice. His cell on Asgard is positively too comfortable, and with Odin and Thor as his captors, it is fragrant that Loki will not get the correction he deserves."

She eyed the alien suspiciously as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The way he said correction definitely implied a much harsher punishment, but that didn't concern her. What really got her attention was the part about Earth. As much as she distanced herself from the planet, it was still home. She felt oddly protective of it in that moment.

"What did he do on Earth?" Amada inquired, leaning forward in her chair. With a few taps on his end, Humar sent footage that temporarily took over the screen. She watched with a bleak grimace as the hole in the sky above New York rained down alien invaders on the people of Earth. It showed these invaders for a brief second, then flashed to a man standing atop a building. He was wearing a green cloak and matching green attire. Perched atop his black mane was a crown of two golden horns. He watched the scene with a content grin; he was proud of his work.

"Thousands perished in the attack, and thousands more were displaced," Humar spoke softly now as he reappeared on the screen. "He is a powerful adversary, a downright thorn in the-"

"We'll get him, send your files over," Amada shot back hotly, feeling irritated by the footage. What kind of psycho invaded a peaceful planet? Now, Earth had no halo, but they were too busy killing their own people to kill others.

Humar's hardened face cracked a grin. "Excellent," he seemed relieved, as if he were glad someone finally accepted the challenge. He tapped a few times, and a file appeared on Amada's screen. "Good hunting, Guardian."

The call ended, and Amada immediately delved into the file, leaning back into the chair to get comfy as she read. She needed to have all the details to present to her fellow Guardians tomorrow at breakfast.

____________________

"If I have to eat these stupid things one more time, Quill, I'm going to shoot myself in the face," Rocket decried incredulously that next morning at breakfast. In front of the raccoon was a plate of miserable looking, deformed pancakes. It was Quill's week to make breakfast, and every morning he presented his crew with his take on pancakes. They were usually too hard and a tad burned.

"Shut your trap," Quill muttered defensively, perfectly aware of how his cooking tasted. The cooking rotated between Gamora, Amada, and himself, and he knew he was the last preferred of the three.

Rocket was poking at his pancake irritably when Amada shuffled into the canteen. She was last to rise, and she was still bedraggled from sleep. She was in sweatpants and a tee-shirt, her hair in a messy nest, and her glasses perching precariously on the edge of her nose. She shuffled in and wordlessly grabbed a pancake from the stack. Amada took one bite of it, chewed it a few times, wrinkled her nose, and promptly spat it in the trash before rooting around in the pantry.

"Oh c'mon!" Quill cried out, rolling his eyes as he nursed his damaged ego. He heard Rocket chuckle and shot him a glare.

"I think your flourcakes are good, Quill," Drax interjected, taking a big bite to prove his point. Coming from the guy who once ate a rotting hunk of meat and said it was delightful, Quill wasn't very consoled.

As Amada pulled out the space equivalent of cereal, she perched on the countertop and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Quill.

"Hey, don't put your ass where we make our food!" He scolded his sister with annoyance, still bitter of her breakfast betrayal.

"Shut up and listen, dipshit," she cut back. Once she had everyone's attention, she continued. "I accepted a job last night-"

"You're not supposed to do that without consultin' everyone," Rocket interjected.

"A job for one million credits," Amada finished pointedly, watching with satisfaction as everyone on the crew choked on their breakfast.

"I stand corrected," Rocket beamed. "Good call, kid!"

Whilst everyone celebrated, Gamora looked a tad skeptical. "What's the job?" she inquired, sipping her coffee.

Amada nodded in acknowledgement of her question. "We have to capture a man and take him to Pyre, easy-peasy," she shrugged, knowing it wasn't so easy-peasy as she claimed. Once she began reading Loki's file last night, she was acquainted with his impressive resume. God of Mischief, frost giant, prince of Asgard, combat expert, brother to Thor. She read of what he did to foes in combat, and she felt as if she might have to actually work for that million credits.

"Who is the man?" Mantis asked giddily, taking in the excitement of the group.

"Just some nobody in an Asgardian prison," she bluffed, deciding then that she would downplay the danger to her crew. She didn't want them to get all worried over something Amada was confident they could handle. She sensed the apprehension on Gamora's face as she heard 'Asgardian' and quickly moved to counter it. "The day we go is the day that they're holding some big sendoff for their golden-boy Thor. The prison is going to be thinly staffed, and I'm assured there is an abandoned dock we can park the Milano at so we can slip in and out undetected! We have Rocket override the cell security, then we have Mantis put him to sleep, and boom! One million credits!" Amada stressed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. They couldn't back out now, so she really needed to sell them on the idea.

The crew stared at her with mixed emotions. Finally, Quill stood and sighed. "What day do we go?"

Amada flinched, smiling nervously. "Tomorrow."

Quill rolled his eyes and waved for his crew to follow him. "Guess we have to go make a plan for this nobody who is worth a million credits," he quipped pointedly, and everyone caught on to his accusation. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't a nobody. A nobody wasn't worth a million credits.

"Great idea, big bro!" Amada agreed, hopping off the counter to join her brother. The rest of the crew followed, murmuring of who the man could be.

This was the last day the Guardians of the Galaxy would be one cohesive unit, for tomorrow was full of twists and hiccups that none of them could have ever predicted.