50 C50 A Good Dog

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The grand doors of the palace opened with a soft thud before Cad Bane as The Collector escorted him to the exit. The dimly lit hallways of the palace were lined with ancient artifacts and oddities, each telling stories of civilizations long forgotten.

The Collector smiled cordially as they paused at the door. "I might have another job for you soon—something… delicate, requiring your particular set of skills."

Bane raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "I'm listening."

"Let's just say it involves retrieving an item of significant value from a rather well-guarded location," The Collector explained, his voice lowering to ensure privacy. "I'll send the details to your communicator within the week."

"Sounds interesting," Bane replied, his tone unreadable behind his usual cool demeanor. "Send the details, and I'll consider it as long as the pay is good."

"Isn't it always?" The Collector smirked, extending his hand. "Until then, Mr. Bane."

With a firm shake, Cad Bane turned to leave but froze as the piercing scream of alarm filled the air. The grand doors of the palace slammed shut with a resounding clank, the security systems engaging and locking them both inside abruptly.

The Collector paused, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he turned to face Bane. Clearly, an intruder had penetrated the palace, even triggering his collections security system. "This isn't your doing, is it?" he inquired, his voice cold and calm, despite the chaos that was beginning to ensue around them.

Composed, Bane flicked his wide-brimmed hat back with a finger and smirked. "Now, why would I ruin a perfectly good business relationship?" he retorted. His hand subtly drifted towards the blaster holstered at his side.

The Collector's gaze followed Bane's movement, his eyes sharp. "Perhaps my generous payment wasn't enough? " he suggested, his tone dripping with suspicion. Around them, the sounds of security measures activating echoed through the opulent corridors.

"I've got what I came for," Bane replied coolly, lifting his case full of credits, his other hand now firmly on the grip of his blaster. "But if you'd like some help with your sudden… lockdown situation, then I might be willing to assist, for a price, of course..."

The Collector's eyes gleamed with a mixture of irritation and opportunity. "What do you want, bounty hunter?" he asked, stepping backward, his own hand inching towards a concealed weapon beneath his jacket.

Bane's blue lips curled into a grin. "Triple the usual fee," he declared, his eyes never leaving The Collector. "And I'll take care of whatever rats might be skulking around your prized collection..."

"Triple?" The Collector scoffed, then sighed as he looked around at the sealed doors and flashing lights. "Fine... But this better be worth it."

Without missing a beat, Cad Bane drew his blaster and spun around, his movements fluid and practiced. "Come on… Let's find your little thieves," he said, walking off back the way they came.

The Collector followed after him, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor, a mixture of urgency and irritation in his stride.

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Meanwhile, Peter stood in the dimly lit room, alarm bells ringing in his ears, while his eyes darted between Carina and Groot. The heavy metal doors had slammed shut behind him, sealing their fates together—at least for the moment.

Groot's hopeful gaze was fixed on Peter, the soft whisper of "I am Groot?" seeming like a hopeful plea for rescue.

Carina, however, trembled slightly, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. She glanced nervously at the Holocron in Peter's hand, then at the sealed doors, as if expecting her master to burst through at any moment.

"Um, hi," Peter started awkwardly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm Peter. Look, uhh, I know this looks bad," he said, giving a nervous chuckle. "But I'm here to help. I can get both of you out of here, but we have to move quickly."

Groot perked up, his eyes brightening at the prospect of freedom. He nodded eagerly and chimed in with enthusiasm, "I am Groot!"

Carina, on the other hand, backed away, her gaze flickering between Peter, the exit, and the Holocron in his grasp. "You shouldn't have taken that," she whispered, her voice shaky. "If you're caught, he'll kill you. And if I help you, he'll kill me too."

Peter's expression softened. "I get it, I do. But staying here isn't going to end well for you either." He took a cautious step toward her, trying to bridge the gap not just in distance but in trust. "I can get you out of here. You just have to trust me…"

Groot mumbled again, "I am Groot," his tone slightly more insistent as he strained against his bindings.

Ignoring Groot's interruption, Carina shook her head vigorously. "No, you don't understand. He's merciless. I can't—" Her eyes suddenly fixed on an antique blaster displayed on a nearby pedestal. In a swift, desperate motion, she grabbed it, pointing the shaky weapon at Peter.

Peter raised his eyebrows, his stance calm despite the threat. "Carina, you don't want to do this," he said gently, his voice a soothing contrast to the piercing alarms.

Carina's hands trembled, tears brimming in her eyes as she struggled with her fear and the weight of the blaster. "I-I have to try," she whispered. "I have no choice."

Just as she pulled the trigger, Peter used the Force to nudge the blaster upward as it fired. The shot echoed harmlessly against the ceiling, scattering dust and fragments of stone.

And In a fluid motion, Peter closed the distance, his hand reaching out to gently push her wrist, directing the weapon away as he maneuvered her into a gentle but firm hold, easing her to the ground.

As Carina collapsed, the weapon clattered to the floor. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, the fight draining out of her as the reality of her helplessness washed over.

Peter turned his attention to Groot, who was still watching him with that same hopeful expression. "Let's get you out of these," he murmured, moving to unlock Groot's restraints. The high tech metal chains fell away, clinking softly against the floor.

"I am Groot," Groot said, a note of gratitude in his voice as he stretched his limbs, free at last.

Peter looked back at Carina, who was now watching him, her expression a mix of awe and fear. "We're going to get out of here, Carina. And you can come with us. Wouldn't you like to leave this hellhole and be free?"

He extended his hand to her, an offer of hope and a promise of a new start. Carina stared at it, her fear slowly giving way to a hesitant resolve. But before she could decide, the distinct sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor, signaling the imminent arrival of her master.

Carina's eyes darted between Peter and the sealed doors. The pounding of her heart matched the distant thuds of her master's approaching steps. Panic flickered across her face, and with a sudden burst of fear-driven energy, she pushed Peter's hand away. "Just go!" she urged, her voice cracking. "You need to run—now!"

Peter sighed, his expression softening as he saw the depth of her despair. "I'm not leaving without you," he said firmly. Initially, he had been prepared to escape with Groot alone if necessary, but not now. Not after seeing her this broken and terrified.

Turning to Groot, who stood ready at his side, Peter clutched his hammer in one hand and the Holocron in the other. "You ready to fight?" he asked, his tone light but serious.

Groot's response was immediate and fierce. "I am Groot!" he bellowed, branches bristling with the readiness for battle. He longed for a confrontation with Cad Bane, the hunter who had slaughtered his people and captured him.

Carina, now on her knees, began pleading. "Please, just leave me and go!" Her voice was desperate, tears streaking down her pink face.

But before Peter could reply, the heavy doors flew open with a resounding clang, revealing Cad Bane, his blaster already drawn, and the Collector, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

The Collector's gaze locked onto the Holocron in Peter's hand, then flicked to Ronan's hammer and the lightsaber hanging off his waist, recognition dawning in his eyes.

Cad Bane, too, recognized Peter, a flicker of recognition crossing his features as he recalled the video of Peter and Master Windu's battle with Ronan. "Padawan Quill," Cad muttered, his tone unreadable but laced with a hint of anticipation, his grip on his pistol tightening.

The Collector, having caught the tail end of Carina's desperate plea to Peter, hissed venomously, "You're helping thieves now, Carina?" His voice, sharp and cold, cut through the rising tension, his anger pointedly directed at her. "After everything I've done for you?"

Carina's voice was barely a whisper as she begged for mercy, her body trembling. "Please, no…"

Without a hint of hesitation, the Collector pulled out a small remote and pressed a button. The thin metal collar around Carina's neck beeped ominously before unleashing a cruel shock.

"Aaaahhhhh!" She screamed, her body convulsing as the electric current coursed through her.

Peter stood over her, his eyes blazing with fury as he witnessed Carina's torment. The sight of her convulsing on the floor, her body wracked with electric shocks, ignited a fire within him. With a firm grip, he raised Ronan's hammer, the artifact glowing an eerie purple. The air hummed with energy as he aimed at the Collector, the hammer suddenly discharging a powerful, invisible blast.

Suddenly, the Collector cried out in agony as the concussive force hit his hand, snapping it backward. The remote clattered to the ground, its casing broken under the stress, instantly ceasing its cruel punishment on Carina.

*Heavy Breathing* She gasped for air, the residual pain still echoing through her body as she lay trembling on the cold floor.

"Aaarrgghh!" Screaming in pain, the Collector clutched his mangled hand, now dangling uselessly by his side. His eyes, filled with rage and shock, locked on Peter. "Kill him, Bane! Kill him now!" he bellowed, voice echoing ominously through the high-ceilinged chamber.

Without hesitation, Cad Bane aimed his blaster and opened fire. Peter, anticipating the attack, swiftly positioned himself in front of Carina, swatting the bolts away with his hammer.

"I am Groot!" Groot, his eyes flaring with rage at the sight of his parents killer, transformed his arms into sharp spears and lunged toward Bane, who narrowly rolled away, evading the wooden barrage.

Amidst the chaos, Peter quickly stashed the Holocron into his pocket and knelt beside Carina. With a gentle touch, he caressed the metal collar. His fingers glowed faintly for just a moment, deactivating the device. With a soft clink, the collar detached and fell to the ground, signifying Carina's newfound freedom.

Carina looked up at Peter, her eyes wide with disbelief and gratitude. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, "Thank you, thank you so much..."

On the other side, The Collector, despite his excruciating pain, scrambled for a gun-shaped syringe from his pocket, jabbing it into his mangled hand. A sharp hiss followed as the liquid inside worked miraculously, knitting the bones and tissues back together until his hand was as good as new.

Fueled by a mix of adrenaline and synthetic healing agents, the collector drew a hidden blaster and fired at Peter.

Sensing the imminent danger, Peter leaned back smoothly, dodging the blaster bolt that whizzed past his face. "Find somewhere to hide," he instructed Carina softly, his eyes turning to her former Master. "I'll handle this, and then we're out of here together, okay?"

Overwhelmed but trusting, Carina nodded and scrambled to find cover in the chaos.

The Collector, now healed, sneered as he fired again. But Peter, with a confident smirk, drew his lightsaber from his hip and ignited the glowing black blade, swatting the blaster bolt away. "That's not all you've got, right?" he taunted, the light from his saber casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Meanwhile, as their standoff intensified, a curious whining and scratching sound could be heard from the corner of the room. There, in a sealed glass cage, a Labrador dog dressed in a Soviet Union space suit clawed desperately at the enclosure, its eyes pleading for freedom.

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A/N: 2106 words :)

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