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Just like with the superheroes back on Earth.
Hawk had no particular feelings about the Guardians of the Galaxy. He didn't feel any burning desire to befriend them, nor did he harbor any pointless animosity toward them.
In a word:
Whatever happens, happens.
He had originally planned to simply wait for Gwen to finish collecting her data and then warp back to Earth. But Gwen, being Gwen, felt it was their moral obligation to offer humanitarian aid to the stranded crew.
So…
They were doing a rescue op.
Happy wife, happy life.
"How much longer for your data?" Hawk asked.
"Thirty minutes." Gwen checked the holographic projection from her wrist, then looked up at him. "If you really don't want to meet them, we don't have to. We can just let them fix their ship and tell them to leave when they're done."
Hawk waved a hand dismissively.
"Forget it."
"Yeah?"
"We're already here."
It was true.
They had already pulled them in—they might as well see who they had caught. Besides, he had nothing better to do. Watching a talking raccoon and a baby tree interact had to be more entertaining than staring at a bunch of floating rocks.
At the very least, it would keep him from falling asleep.
Hawk thought to himself.
Soon.
Guided by the holographic avatar of 'Enterprise,' the Guardians of the Galaxy crossed the hangar deck, navigated the sleek, sci-fi corridors of the ship, and finally stepped onto the bridge.
Instantly, the ragtag crew was stunned by the breathtaking, futuristic elegance of the Enterprise's command center.
"Peter!" Drax the Destroyer, looking like a heavily muscled warrior covered in intricate red runic tattoos, immediately nudged Star-Lord. "Look. It's the god from outside."
Peter Quill and Gamora exchanged a wary look, then turned their attention to Hawk. "Thank you for the rescue, Captain," Quill said smoothly.
Hawk chuckled. "I'm not the Captain. My wife is. And my wife has never seen a talking raccoon or a baby tree before, so she wanted a closer look."
Raccoon?
Who the hell is he calling a raccoon?
Rocket, who was standing next to Gamora with Baby Groot perched on his shoulder, bristled instantly. He bared his teeth at Hawk.
"HEY, I AIN'T NO FRICKIN' RACCOON, PAL."
"I AM GROOT!"
On Rocket's shoulder, the impossibly cute Baby Groot clenched his tiny wooden fists and let out an adorable, yet fierce little roar in solidarity.
Gwen watched the bristling raccoon and the fierce little sapling. Far from being intimidated, she found them absolutely endearing.
Because Hawk was standing right beside her.
With Hawk there, Gwen felt like even if a T-Rex suddenly materialized on the bridge, she wouldn't be scared.
However…
"What species is that raccoon? I didn't see anything matching his description in the Nova Corps' galactic species guidebook. But I did find the little tree. He's a Flora colossus, right?"
"The raccoon doesn't have a species. He's just a genetically modified raccoon," Hawk explained with a smile, looking at Gwen. "Just like that cyborg they've got tied up in their ship. Both of them are the results of extreme body modification. That cyborg had most of her organic parts ripped out and replaced with machinery by Thanos."
Hearing the name 'Thanos,' Gwen's brow furrowed. She looked at Hawk.
"Thanos... wait, isn't that the guy you said was pulling the strings behind Loki and the Chitauri invasion back in 2012?"
"That's the guy."
"Hold on a second."
Hawk and Gwen hadn't bothered to lower their voices. The Guardians heard every word of their exchange.
Star-Lord's eyes widened at the mention of Earth. He stepped forward, his guarded demeanor replaced by a sudden, intense excitement. "Wait, Earth? You guys are from Earth?"
Gwen turned to him, equally surprised. "Yes, we are. You know about Earth?"
You couldn't blame her for being curious.
During their honeymoon on Xandar, Gwen had interacted with tourists from dozens of different alien races.
She had asked many of them if they knew about Earth.
Not a single one did.
Well, not exactly.
Some of them recognized the name 'Terra,' the planet's official galactic designation. But none of them had ever been there, and none of them had ever met a Terran.
As they put it, Terra was located in the most remote, desolate backwater of the galaxy. It was the boondocks of the boondocks. No one in their right mind would waste the fuel to travel to such a literal dead end.
What was the point? It was a waste of credits for absolutely zero return.
Gwen had kept a polite smile when she heard that, but deep down, it stung a little to hear her home planet talked about like a galactic garbage dump.
So—
Suddenly running into someone in deep space who actually knew about Earth? It was a genuine, delightful surprise.
Gwen looked closely at Peter Quill, putting the pieces together.
"Are you from Earth, too?"
"What? No, I'm not from Earth. I'm from Missouri."
"..."
Gwen stared at him for a long second, completely deadpan, before sighing in exasperation. "That's on Earth. You're American?"
Missouri is a state in the US. After her initial disbelief at his geographical ignorance, a genuine smile broke across Gwen's face.
She hadn't expected to run into a fellow American out here.
But, Gwen was even more curious now. "How did you end up out here?"
As far as she knew, the furthest humanity had ever traveled was the Moon.
And that had been decades ago. Just a handful of times. Since then, Earth's space program seemed to have been permanently grounded, unable to take that next step into the wider cosmos.
Quill opened his mouth. Perhaps because he was talking to a fellow Terran, he found himself giving a brief, slightly sanitized version of how he had been abducted from Earth by Yondu all those years ago.
Because of what had happened to his mother, Peter had always associated Earth with nothing but pain and loss. Even after he'd broken free from Yondu's control, he'd never once considered going back.
But that didn't mean he didn't miss it.
In the vast, endless expanse of the universe, running into someone from your own species was a rare and joyful occasion.
Just like the Flora colossus race that Groot belonged to.
Gwen had actually seen two other Flora colossi during their time on Xandar. But those two were fully grown adults, massive and intimidating, lacking the undeniable cute factor of Baby Groot.
The point was.
The universe is huge, and species are scattered. Even Gamora occasionally ran into another surviving Zehoberei.
Thanos had only slaughtered half her people, after all. He hadn't wiped them out completely.
But just as Star-Lord was finishing his story, the holographic projection of 'Enterprise' appeared beside Gwen, interrupting him.
"Ma'am, it is time for your scheduled nutritional intake."
"Oh, right. Thank you, Enterprise."
Gwen snapped out of her conversation and thanked the AI.
After confirming her pregnancy, the hospital on Xandar had generated a highly specific, optimized nutritional intake schedule based on her biometric scans, ensuring she and the babies received exactly what they needed, exactly when they needed it.
As the projection vanished.
Gwen seemed to remember her manners. She glanced at Hawk, who offered a noncommittal shrug, then turned back to Peter and the others with a warm, welcoming smile. "Have you all eaten? If not, my husband and I would like to invite you to join us for dinner."
Peter looked at Gamora.
Gamora opened her mouth, intending to signal Peter to decline. After all, a man who casually drops the name 'Thanos,' who seems to know that he's alive and well, and who commands a ship that looks like it belongs a thousand years in the future… this was not a normal person.
But then, Before Gamora could even say a word, Star-Lord flashed a charming smile and happily accepted.
"That sounds great. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Gwen smiled brightly. She took Hawk's hand—he had remained silent throughout the exchange—and led the way, guiding the Guardians of the Galaxy toward the ship's mess hall on the lower decks.
The mess hall of the Enterprise had been flawlessly replicated by Hawk, right down to the last detail from the movies.
Therefore—
It naturally included fully functional food replicators.
But this led to a minor complication.
As Star-Lord stood in front of the replicator terminal, eagerly scrolling through the 'Earth' regional menus in search of authentic Missouri cuisine…
Gamora, standing nearby, stared at the other options on the display. She pointed to the entries for 'Andorian' and 'Vulcan' and whispered to Drax, "Have you ever heard of these races?"
The answer, of course, was no.
At least, not in the primary Marvel Universe-616.
But in the Star Trek universe, the Andorians and the Vulcans were founding members of the United Federation of Planets, right alongside humanity.
Hawk's manifestation was perfect.
So…
The food replicators on the Enterprise naturally came pre-loaded with the culinary delights of Andoria and Vulcan.
But it was just a minor oddity.
Because Star-Lord had discovered that Hawk and Gwen were from Earth, the tension in the room had significantly decreased. The guarded, defensive posture of the Guardians had relaxed into a more casual, friendly atmosphere.
As they ate, Gwen listened intently to Star-Lord's tales of being abducted and his subsequent adventures across the galaxy, her expressions perfectly mirroring the emotional beats of his stories.
In simple terms: she provided excellent emotional validation.
When it came to being an active, engaged listener, Gwen was a professional. And frankly, the stories of space-faring rogues and intergalactic scoundrels were genuinely fascinating to her.
Gamora, meanwhile, turned to Hawk and offered a quiet, sincere nod. "Thank you for saving our ship."
Rocket, expertly peeling a replicated crawfish, chimed in right behind her. "Yeah. And thanks for the grub. Not bad."
Baby Groot, busy dipping a small, twig-like finger into a glass of juice, looked up at Hawk. "I am Groot!"
Drax, who seemed to have finally caught up with the conversation, looked up from his plate. The intricate red tattoos on his face contorted as he offered a wide, surprisingly earnest smile. "Yes. Thank you."
Hawk smiled faintly. "Don't mention it."
And that was it.
Hawk was naturally introverted. He preferred letting his fists do the talking—idle chatter had never been his strong suit.
And more importantly.
He had no desire to become best buddies with the Guardians of the Galaxy, let alone go out of his way to initiate a friendship.
So…
Rather than making small talk, Hawk had something far more important on his mind.
Like...
The Eighth Sense!
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