A simple mission: kill a few thieves that had begun resorting to murder and rake in the units. But, even the simplest of missions deserved some underlying plot, and for Knowhere, it was always something crime related. While the others decided to fuck off and get stupid drunk, Rocket set to the small bubble of gossip he normally wouldn’t follow up on, knowing that if there was any truth in it, and he didn’t investigate, he’d be kicking himself for as long as he lived.
He asked around, probed for information, threatened a few lowlife merchants and a couple hostile civilians, and eventually got himself led to the site of an illegal auction. Great. So, the rumor had been true, and somewhere in this mess, there was a Terran. There was always a Terran at events like this; it was as though they were fucking magnets for this kind of thing! If Quill didn’t have the title he did, and the street cred he had earned with the Ravagers, Rocket wouldn’t put it past the moron to be captured and caged somewhere below the makeshift building.
Smoothly, the raccoon entered with a faux pretense of wanting to check the wares, and with another idiot leading the way, he found himself below the foundation of the auction house, eyes scanning many a cage, most empty, and some bloodied and obviously previously occupied. Wonderful. It wasn’t until the familiar form of a Terran graced his eyes that he slowed to a stop and non-lethally put out his escort. Walking quietly to the cage, he tapped with one claw to the rusty metal and waited. Hopefully they hadn’t rendered him deaf.