Panic Attack

Untitled Part 12

               The white lab coat made Roger's skin crawl to the point where he had almost considered taking it off altogether and disposing of it had Quill not been walking directly behind him, shifting in his own disguise uncomfortably.

The Nova ship had landed not far away, allowing both of the infiltrating men to get off and make their way over the white Halfworld ship. A shiver ran up Rogers' spine upon seeing the men and women talking in front of the aircraft, most of which he had recognized as fugitives from the Nova attack all those years ago.

Boxes were being hauled up the steps and into the ship, most likely full of new torture devices for their reacquired subject back onboard. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and hurried in his pace toward the side of the ship, Rogers trailing not far behind.

The thing was larger than Rogers had expected a Halfworld ship to be and quite frankly, he wasn't sure how easy it would be to find the missing raccoon with all the space. The windows of the craft were tinted so that he couldn't see in, taking away all chances of him pinpointing Rocket's location from outside.

He gritted his teeth nervously. They had no doubt already began their sick experiments on the creature. Memories of the raccoon's pleas and heart wrenching screams rang throughout his head, knowing that the scientists in that room with him would show little to no mercy now that their creation was back in their grasp.

It was one thing to have lasted as long as he did under the experiments Rocket had been put under, especially seeing as though none of the other subjects had survived as he had. But the fact that the cybernetically enhanced raccoon had escaped the facility and kept himself alive for years afterwards was another feat in itself that Rogers knew the other scientists wouldn't overlook.

He was brought out of his musings upon hearing the unpleasant sound of metal grating on metal as Peter unscrewed the large fuel nozzle from its place in the ship's gas tank. "What are you doing?" He asked in a harsh yet quiet voice, the Halfworlders were still making their way to and from the ship and being where they were, any amount of noise could give away their position.

"Making sure these guys aren't going anywhere for a while." Peter replied, pulling out the large nozzle from the hold in the side of the white ship and dropping it entirely, allowing the contents to spill onto the ground at their feet. "Come on, we need to get inside." He added, stepping over the increasingly large puddle of fuel on the hard concrete and waving for Rogers to follow.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Rogers asked, gathering the white material in his hands so the lab coat wouldn't drag through the oil as he caught up to the second man who had pressed himself against the side of the ship. The former scientist followed suit, peering around the edge of their hiding place to see three men standing guard the ship whilst the others simply made their way to and from the large craft, carrying boxes of varying sizes.

"Well Doc, seeing as though we don't exactly have the identification to get in, I suggest we grab one of those weird crates and try to fake our way in." Peter answered sarcastically, gesturing to where a large pile of the wooden boxes were still stacked.

"And you really think that's going to work?" Rogers asked incredulously.

Peter answered with a shrug. "It's a work in progress, like I said, Rocket's usually the one with the plans, not me." He said, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but the worry in his voice and the flickering of his gaze from the boxes to the ominous ship behind him.