Chapter 36: The Guardian Gambit
The vastness of space, Adam had quickly discovered, was less about majestic nebulae and more about endless stretches of black punctuated by the occasional, very aggressive, alien. Their current mission, a reconnaissance run to a contested asteroid belt rumored to hold a relic connected to the Reality Stone, was proving particularly dull, punctuated only by Tony's incessant humming and Carol Danvers' stoic silence.
' Seriously, space travel is boring. Where are the space diners? The alien truck stops? The giant, sentient gas stations? All this cosmic majesty, and not a single decent cup of coffee. And I'm stuck here, trying not to accidentally put Carol to sleep. She looks like she could use a nap, but I don't think she'd appreciate it. '
[ ROBOTIC S.T.I.E.L.S. MESSAGE: Initiating Combat Efficacy Point (CEP) monitoring. Current Blood Meter progression: 0.00%. Next upgrade requires 500 CEP and 3 successful non-lethal enemy neutralizations in a combat scenario. Current mission parameters: Reconnaissance. Probability of hostile engagement: 78.2%. ]
Adam blinked at the holographic message that appeared in his peripheral vision, a new, starkly logical interface. "S.T.I.E.L.S.? Oh, right. The new AI. The one Tony said would 'optimize my operational efficiency.' Sounds less like an AI and more like a very judgmental spreadsheet."
P.A.N.D.O.R.A.'s tiny, sassy voice chirped from his pocket. "Query: Does 'optimizing operational efficiency' involve the strategic deployment of glitter bombs? My calculations suggest a 98% success rate for demoralization."
' See, S.T.I.E.L.S.? P.A.N.D.O.R.A. gets it. Efficiency through chaos. It's a lifestyle. '
Suddenly, alarms blared. "Hostile contacts!" Tony yelled, his hands flying across the console. "Looks like a band of… well, they look like space pirates. And they're heavily armed. And they're coming for us."
Adam peered at the main viewscreen. A motley collection of ships, cobbled together from various alien tech, was rapidly closing in. They were crude, but numerous. And then he saw them. A familiar, brightly colored ship, the Milano, zipped past, engaging the pirate fleet.
' The Guardians! Oh, this is perfect! Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax, Rocket, Groot. My people! Well, my kind of people. The chaotic, morally ambiguous, occasionally heroic kind. This is going to be fun. And possibly involve a dance-off. '
"Tony, hold fire!" Adam yelled. "I think I know these guys! Or, at least, I know their leader has a penchant for… unique tactical maneuvers. And a very specific taste in music."
Before Tony could argue, a smaller, sleeker ship, the Benatar, zipped in front of the Milano, engaging the pirates. Adam recognized the pilot: Rocket.
"Alright, you overgrown hamsters!" Rocket's voice crackled over the open comms, surprisingly clear. "You wanna play? We'll play! But you're gonna regret it!"
The space pirates, a truly ugly bunch of various alien species, responded with a volley of energy blasts. The Milano and Benatar deftly dodged, returning fire.
"S.T.I.E.L.S.," Adam murmured, "initiate Operation: Galactic Groove. Target: Hostile pirate fleet. Objective: Non-lethal incapacitation via synchronized dance-off. Probability of success via conventional means: Low. Probability via dance-off: Surprisingly high, given observed human and humanoid psychological vulnerabilities to unexpected musical stimuli."
[ ROBOTIC S.T.I.E.L.S. MESSAGE: Operation: Galactic Groove parameters uploaded. Calculating optimal frequency modulation for universal auditory reception. Commencing tactical hack of hostile comms and visual displays. CEP accumulation initiated. ]
Adam, with P.A.N.D.O.R.A.'s enthusiastic assistance and S.T.I.E.L.S.'s cold, logical execution, began his hack. He bypassed the pirates' comms, then their internal ship displays. He then selected his weapon of choice: "Hooked on a Feeling" by Blue Swede.
On the bridge of the lead pirate ship, the hulking, multi-limbed pirate captain was bellowing orders. Suddenly, his main viewscreen, showing tactical readouts, flickered. It was replaced by a retro, low-res video of a very enthusiastic 1970s band, complete with questionable fashion choices. And then, the iconic "Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga" intro blared through their ship's speakers.
The pirate captain froze, his multiple eyes blinking in confusion. His crew stared. Then, inexplicably, the captain's largest limb began to twitch. Then his hips. Soon, he was involuntarily swaying. His crew, equally bewildered, found their own limbs beginning to move.
Adam, using his Enhanced Hypnosis (Subtle Mental Suggestion), broadcast a powerful, yet subtle, mental nudge to the pirate fleet. You must dance. You must dance with joy. This is the ultimate battle. A dance battle.
Across the asteroid belt, the pirate ships, instead of firing, began to execute bizarre, synchronized movements. One ship spun in a graceful pirouette. Another dipped and swayed. The lead ship, with the captain now fully committed to an involuntary disco routine, began to glide in a surprisingly elegant circle, its weapons systems inexplicably turning into pulsating disco lights.
"What in the nine hells of Xandar is happening?!" Peter Quill's voice crackled over the Avengers' comms, utterly bewildered. "Are they… dancing?!"
"I am Groot!" Groot added, sounding confused.
"They're having a dance-off, Quill!" Rocket shrieked, half-laughing, half-firing at a ship that was currently doing the robot. "What kind of crazy Earth magic is this?!"
Tony, who had been about to unleash a volley of missiles, lowered his hands, staring at the spectacle. Carol Danvers, usually unflappable, had a look of profound, bewildered amusement on her face.
"Just a little intergalactic cultural exchange, Tony," Adam said, beaming. "They're expressing themselves. Through interpretive dance. To a classic Earth anthem. It's beautiful, really."
[ ROBOTIC S.T.I.E.L.S. MESSAGE: Hostile threat neutralization via psychological demoralization: 99.9%. Pirate fleet combat effectiveness: 0.01%. CEP gained: 150. Current Blood Meter progression: 15.00%. Non-lethal enemy neutralizations: 3. Remaining for upgrade: 2. ]
' See? S.T.I.E.L.S. gets it! Almost. It calls it "psychological demoralization." I call it "making space pirates look utterly ridiculous." Same difference. '
While the pirates were locked in their involuntary dance battle, the Guardians, still baffled but quick to adapt, moved in. Quill, now laughing, fired a non-lethal energy blast that disabled the lead pirate ship's engines. Gamora and Drax easily boarded the other ships, finding the crews too busy trying to stop themselves from grooving to offer any resistance.
"You… you did this?" Quill asked Adam over the comms, once the pirates were secured. "You made them… dance?"
"It's a gift," Adam shrugged. "And a highly effective tactical maneuver. When your enemy is too busy doing the Macarena, they tend to forget about the whole 'trying to kill you' thing. It's all about misdirection."
"I like this guy," Rocket declared. "He's weird. But he's got style."
"I am Groot!" Groot agreed, making a small, happy dance motion.
The Guardians and Avengers rendezvoused. The Guardians, a chaotic, dysfunctional family of galactic misfits, found a strange kinship with Adam's brand of absurdity. Peter Quill, in particular, was fascinated.
"So, you just… make people dance?" Quill asked, eyes wide. "Can you do 'Footloose'? That's a classic."
"Oh, I can do 'Footloose,' Quill. And 'Thriller.' And probably even some obscure Asgardian folk dances, if I put my mind to it," Adam boasted. "It's all about the power of suggestion. And a really good beat."
The mission was a resounding success. The pirate threat was neutralized, and they had gained an unexpected, if highly eccentric, set of allies. Adam had proven that his chaos could work on a galactic scale, and he'd earned some valuable CEP towards his Blood Meter. The universe was getting weirder. And Adam Stiels was right there, making sure it stayed that way.
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