Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

Chapter 13

Knowhere, Edge of the Galactic Rim

Nebula straightened herself out just in time to see Groot made his entrance—or rather, his landing—into the plaza, crashing into Adam Warlock and encasing him in a thick net of branches before he could lay the final blow on Drax.

For a moment, Nebula found herself with the faintest glimmer of hope that they could end things, here and now. But that hope was dashed the moment Adam's boots began to glow, and a moment later, a bright burst of energy sent both him and Groot rocketing out of the plaza, leaving only a charred, crumbling hole in the pavement behind.

With the gilded threat distracted, Nebula turned her attention to the establishment she'd been thrown into, searching for a medpack. There, strapped to the wall. It was an older model, but right then, she would have taken even the most primitive of techs, just so long as it kept her teammate alive, idiot as he was.

She pulled the pack from its place, almost taking a small portion of the wall's crumbly plaster with it, before rushing out the broken door towards Drax's fallen form.

She hadn't caught much of the fight, but one look at him told Nebula it'd been far from pretty. Drax's face was a mess, trickling blood painting dark red lines across deep bruises. His jaw stuck out at an odd angle, and one of his eyes was already beginning to swell shut. But at the sight of her—or perhaps the blur of her—he gave a little grunt, his mouth moving slowly as he tried to form words.

"I...almost had...him."

Nebula huffed. Leave it to Drax to be worried about something as trivial as winning a fight after he'd had the living daylights beaten out of him. "And he almost had you. Now, shut up and heal."

She set the medpack on top of his face, securing the straps to the side of his head before pressing the little red button at the center of the pack's controls. There was a chorus of sickly noises, accompanied by a muffled shout from the pack's patient, before the straps snapped off, and Drax was left to shove the rest of the medpack off his nearly normal face.

"I greatly dislike that feeling."

"Well, that feeling saved your life." Nebula rolled her eyes before reaching up to access the communication line at her ear, saying a silent prayer that there'd be someone on the other end. "Hello? This is Nebula. Does anyone copy?"

...

A few blocks up and away, Peter felt a buzz at his ear, and he hastily accessed his communications line.

"Hello? This is Nebula. Does anyone copy?"

Peter felt his heart leap in his chest. Gosh, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy to hear the cyborg's voice, and he quickly ducked into an alleyway to answer her call.

"This is Peter. I copy."

There was the static-y sound of a breath from the other end, and Peter passed it off as a relieved sigh as the comm crackled again.

"Where are you?"

Peter glanced around, searching for any indicator of his position. One sector of Knowhere was enough of a maze; the levels of the streets made it all the more impossible to get a direct location, even from someone who called the station home. But finally, his eyes settled on a familiar building in the distance.

"I'm a couple streets down from the docking bay. You?"

"Drax and I are leaving the plaza—"