Nova Council — Xandar Prime
The chamber of the Nova High Council shimmered with refracted starlight. Holo-feeds of the Ego incident played in silent repetition: collapsing terrain, a burst of biolink energy, and the Milano vanishing into the nebula.
Commander Rellan's voice cut through the murmuring.
"Ego-class anomaly neutralized. Takonian biolink readings persist across five sectors. One remaining lead—Null Cluster fragments, possibly connected to the High Evolutionary."
A junior officer leaned in, whispering. "Sir, there's… another complication."
He pulled up a secure channel: encrypted reports of a Nova strike team ambushed during a retrieval mission weeks earlier.
Footage flickered—static, then a glimpse of a small figure amid smoke and fire: Subject Theta.
Her eyes glowed with faint Takion script before she was pulled into a ruptured portal.
The image froze, her hand outstretched as she vanished.
Rellan's jaw tightened. "And this wasn't reported?"
The officer swallowed. "Command believed her dead. We… buried the data to avoid another scandal."
Before Rellan could respond, the chamber doors hissed open with a resonant thoom.
In walked a woman draped in regal combat attire — polished white-and-gold armor traced with Spartaxian runes, the royal crest emblazoned across her shoulder: a radiant sun crowned with olive-antler branches, each spike engraved with an elemental glyph.
Her dark skin gleamed in the light, her brown hair braided into a warrior's coil, and at her side hung two weapons: a slender element blaster of white and gold, and a folding spear etched with matching runic veins that hummed faintly with contained power.
"Commander Rellan," she said, voice smooth as tempered steel. "I am Princess Victoria Spartoi of Spartax — and I've come for my father."
The council fell silent. Even the holograms seemed to dim in deference.
The Council Briefing
Victoria stood before the Nova display, posture impeccable. "Spartax faces a renewed Badoon offensive. Our ceasefire with Asgard has left the outer colonies exposed. We require Emperor J'son's experience to stabilize the borders."
Irani Rael frowned. "The Badoon strike now? The ink on the Asgard treaty isn't dry."
"Which is why it's deliberate," Victoria replied. "Their attack began the moment Asgard withdrew its protectorate fleets. The High Evolutionary's signals coincide with the first wave. He's testing new weapons built from stolen biolink tissue."
Rellan's gaze flicked to the holo-feed of Theta's disappearance. "And if you're right, he's already succeeded."
Victoria's hand brushed the hilt of her spear — a subtle gesture, almost ceremonial. "Then I'll take my father, and the Guardians who brought him back, to Spartax. We can discuss allegiances later."
Irani folded her hands. "They won't just follow orders, Princess. You'll need to convince them."
Victoria's lips curved. "I intend to."
Knowhere — The Arrival
The Milano had barely landed when a Nova–Spartax diplomatic shuttle descended from orbit, its hull painted with the gold-and-amber crest of the royal house.
Rocket squinted through the viewport. "Oh, great. A diplomatic escort. That never ends with snacks."
Gamora crossed her arms. "Or peace."
Peter sighed. "Let's at least see what flavour of family drama this is before shooting at it."
The ramp lowered, and Princess Victoria Spartoi stepped onto Knowhere's deck, flanked by two Nova officers. Her presence commanded the air; even the background chatter of the marketplace seemed to hush.
She scanned the group quickly, her gaze sharp as a scanner beam — landing first on J'son, who stood leaning against the Milano's hull, looking older and battle-worn.
"Father," she said. The word carried both affection and accusation.
J'son's eyes softened with disbelief. "Victoria…? You were—"
"Raised," she interrupted, "not orphaned." She looked him over, tone cooling. "Though your idea of fatherhood seems as scattered as your empire."
Rocket elbowed Peter. "She's got your sass."
Peter muttered, "Don't start."
Victoria turned to him next, eyes assessing. "You must be the Terran my father couldn't stop talking about. Peter Quill."
He raised a hand awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. The other family disappointment."
A flicker of something — amusement, maybe sympathy — crossed her expression. "Then we understand each other."
The Offer
Later, inside Knowhere's command dome, the conversation turned strategic.
Victoria brought up a holo-map of Spartax space. Dozens of red marks bled across the borders.
"The Badoon struck within hours of our treaty signing with Asgard. We suspect they were encouraged — or supplied — by the High Evolutionary. He's weaponizing hybrids from Takonian stock. One of them is designated Theta."
Max straightened. "Theta was alive?"
Victoria nodded. "Recovered briefly by Nova field teams after Null-3. They reported her death… but our long-range probes picked up her biolink pulse three days ago in the Scylla Corridor — deep Evolutionary territory."
Zeta's voice whispered through Max's comms.
"That matches the signature anomaly I detected. The Council suppressed it."
Peter paced. "So Nova covered up a live rescue and now the Evolutionary's making monster kids out of her DNA. Great."
Victoria met his gaze squarely. "Then help us fix it."
Peter hesitated, glancing at J'son — then at Gamora. "You realize we were about to head home?"
Gamora's voice was steady. "Maybe later. Family first."
Rocket smirked. "I call dibs on looting the Evolutionary's lab."
Drax raised his hand solemnly. "And I call dibs on crushing his skull."
Victoria almost smiled. "You Guardians really don't do diplomacy, do you?"
Max shrugged. "We're more of a 'results first, paperwork never' kind of crew."
Spartax Royal Crest — The Oath
Victoria drew her spear and drove its base into the floor. The weapon unfolded, the crest of Spartax projecting midair — a radiant sun encircled by a living wreath of antlered olive branches, each ray of the sun morphing into elemental symbols: flame, wind, earth, water, lightning, and light.
The projection rippled like a heartbeat.
"In the name of the royal house of Spartax," she said solemnly, "I swear alliance to any who defend the innocent from the High Evolutionary's designs. The old wars mean nothing if evolution itself becomes our enemy."
Peter tilted his head. "That sounded… almost inspiring."
Rocket whispered, "Yeah, and terrifying."
Gamora's lips curved faintly. "Maybe both."
The Guardians' Choice
As the meeting dispersed, J'son stood near the viewport overlooking the floating nebulae. His reflection merged with the stars — a man caught between what he was and what he'd become.
Victoria approached, quieter now. "You don't have to fight again, Father. You just have to stand for something."
J'son looked at her, then at Peter, laughing with Gamora across the deck. "Maybe I finally do."
He turned back to the stars. "The Badoon won't expect us together. Spartax, Nova, and Guardians under one flag."
Max clasped his shoulder. "Then we'll make sure they remember it."
Zeta's signal pulsed softly in Max's visor.
"Incoming ping. Subject Theta's location confirmed — Scylla Corridor. Energy distortion consistent with High Evolutionary command node."
Peter looked to the others. "Guess the vacation's postponed."
Gamora nodded. "Let's bring her home."
The Milano's engines roared to life, cutting through Knowhere's twilight haze.
Above, the Nova–Spartax fleet began to mobilize — fragile hope against a storm of evolution and war.
As they ascended, Peter glanced at Victoria below — her spear raised in salute, sunlight crest glowing like a promise.
He smiled. "Family drama and galaxy-saving in one go. Just another Thursday."
Deadpool Meta-Cut
"Okay, quick recap:
– Surprise half-sister with a glowstick spear? Check.
– The galaxy's worst dad trying to do better,
– Nova Corps covering up the death-that-wasn't? Double check.
– Asgard signs a peace treaty, and the lizards immediately go full 'we attack at dawn'? Obviously.
– And the Guardians volunteer for another cosmic therapy session instead of taking a nap.
Tune in next chapter for Science Gone Stupid™: the High Evolutionary's grand return, featuring child cloning, ethical nightmares, and Max realizing backup plans are just prequels to trauma. Or maybe we'll make like dragon ball and shift to another characters perspective."