02x15 - Back in Black

[bunniefuu]

♪ Whoo-hoo-hoo!

Ugh! Aah!

Aah.

Quill, this simulation has
no value for combat training.

Turbo Plumber Cousins
is not training, Drax.

It's the real -bit
deal. And nothing will

stop me from getting the new high score.

Peter, I bring urgent news.

No!

Oh-ho-ho. Hey, Victoria. What's shakin'?

Besides your trembling fingers?

What? Oh, no. That's just game twitch.

It's an Earth thing.
You wouldn't get it.

I'm contacting you because Nova Corps

has issued a bulletin for a Terran

who has reportedly been using
the missing Centurion helmet.

You know anything about this?

Hey, I haven't seen
that krutackin' thing

since Warlock fixed it and sent
it off to "find its destiny."

Really? Even though
Nova Corps is offering

a ten million unit reward for its return?

Rocket, Groot, we gotta track down
that Nova Centurion helmet now!

Okay, where are Rocket and Groot?

I gotta work on my landings.

Samuel Alexander,

whatever you're doing in there,
it had better involve homework!

Don't worry, Mom! I'm learning!

Even if it is the hard way.

Sam, see who's at the door, please.

I'm giving your sister a bath.

Huh?

Yo! Down here! There ya go.

Uh, good evening.

We're, uh, from out of town,

taking a... survey...

for charity...

about the dangers of
intergalactic artifacts.

Seen anything like this, kid?

Oh. Yeah. I think I have.

Wait right there, okay?

See what I did there?

That's called "finesse," my friend.

Ten million units, here we come.

You want this? Come and
get it, you mangy rat.

"Mangy"?

That's it. Follow me away from my family.

Nobody calls me mangy!

Ya hear me?

Come back with my ten
million units, humie!

You ain't the only one
who can fly around here!

Stupid jet pack! Start!

I am Groot. You're right, bud.

Next time we don't ask.

Just grab the helmet
and stick it in the sack.

Oh, man!

That's even worse in low gravity.

Okay, a walking tree and a
talking raccoon want my helmet.

- That's not crazy at all, is it?
- Ahem.

The helmet, kid. Now.

- Leave me alone, or...
- Or what, punk?

Or... Or this!

Whoa. Huh?

Cease your att*cks
or face the consequences.

Where did you get that helmet?

None of your business, freaks!

Take a hike, you two.

This is our score, and we
ain't splitting the reward.

That helmet is too powerful and too
dangerous for a child to possess.

How can you think of units?

Eh, is that a trick question?

Leave me alone!

I... I'm sorry.

I don't want to hurt anyone.

Me neither. So
why don't you just come inside,

and we'll hash this out,
one earthling to another?

"Earthling"?

♪ ♪

Seriously?

This antique is supposed
to convince me to trust you?

Hey, you know what? When I left
Earth, that game was state of the art.

Lame. Like your former high score.

Hey! Don't touch that!

Right, 'cause it'd be wrong to try
to take somebody's stuff from them.

I am Groot.

What are you taking his side for?

No one is taking sides.

We are merely trying
to protect the child.

I wore that helmet once, and
its power nearly destroyed me.

- You have to give it up.
- No way!

Don't worry, Sam. The
helmet was fixed since then,

and no one's gonna
take it away from you.

But maybe you can tell
us how you found it.

Okay.

When I was little, my dad used
to disappear for days at a time.

When he came home, he
would tell me these stories

about saving the galaxy
with a magic helmet

that turned him into a
super-powered space hero.

And then he didn't come home.

One day, this helmet just
showed up in the garage.

I don't know why, but I tried it on.

And then I knew all of my
dad's stories were true.

And, son, whatever you do,

do not try to find me.

So, naturally, you tried to find him.

I did the same thing with my dad.

Trust me, it did not end well.

So why don't you hand over the
helmet so we can collect the reward...

I mean, keep the galaxy safe?

I am Groo-oo-oot!

Y-You can't take my helmet from me.

And you can't stop me from
searching the galaxy for my dad.

Okay, Sam, the
galaxy's a dangerous place.

You're gonna wind up hurting someone

with all that power. Probably yourself.

Then we must train you
to be a proper warrior.

Not where I was going with that.

Don't worry. When we're done,
he'll beg to give up the helmet.

I am Groot.

Seriously?

That thing glued to your head?

Rocket, why are we slowing down?

Push harder, Sam!

Heave!

Ugh! What the flarg?

Target practice.

I suggest you get out
of the line of fire.

That's it.

Just keep him occupied...

Whoa! Dad never mentioned a giant
floating head in his stories.

And how is this supposed to
convince Sam to give up the helmet?

Knowhere is the worst
place in the galaxy,

with the worst people in the galaxy.

If this doesn't scare him
straight, nothing will.

Agreed. Sam's posture is extremely poor.

We will frighten him to stand
up straight like a proud warrior.

Hold it, Quill. No weapons inside.

And no funny business.
We've got cameras everywhere.

I'm noting the condition
of each of my beauties.

One scratch, and you're a
grease stain on the F'Saki table.

Hmph!

♪

Well, take a long, hard look, Sam.

Dirty, smelly, ugly,

whack-ya-for-lookin'-at-them-cross-eyed
thieves, thugs, and cutthroats.

This is what the galaxy is really about.

This... is... awesome!

Yeah, that's what I thought once.

Until I met... the Ravagers.

Psst. Guys, hey. What's up?

Yeah, I need a favor.
Throw a scare into this kid.

You know, like you used to with me,
huh? I want to teach him a lesson.

♪ ♪

Got a lot of nerve showin' up, asking
favors from the Ravagers, Quill.

Especially after you iced Yondu.

What? No! No, no, no, Yondu's alive.

He's trapped inside a gem that's
part of an all-powerful cosmic...

Yeah, that sounds
like I just made it up.

How about we teach Quill a lesson, boys?

A slow, painful one.

Can we do the slow without the painful?

So, Sam, you see how dangerous
the galaxy can be, huh?

Whoa!

So, what'd I miss?

Quill is teaching Sam
the dangers of the galaxy.

I am Groot.

Shouldn't we help him?

Never interrupt the professor
in the middle of a lesson.

I bet my dad wouldn't
stand around and watch.

Hey, uglies! Leave him alone!

Okay, Sam. I think you've
learned your lesson.

Let's just go home.

Hey! That kid's wearing
the Nova Centurion helmet!

It's worth ten million units!

Get the kid out of here, Quill.

I'm not a kid! I can handle myself!

- Whoa.
- That's it!

All of you, take your weapons and leave!

Forever!

How cool was that?

I was like, blam, blam!

Alien dudes flyin' all over.

Just like my dad's stories.

Sam, listen to me.

This helmet is just too
dangerous for you to keep.

What? You saw me in there.

So did everyone in the galaxy,
thanks to those cameras.

You just drew a big,
fat target on your head.

And yet I see no such target.

Hey, I'm getting a signal.

The last time that happened,
it was a message from my dad.

Or it could be a trap.

Do you know how many lowlifes wanna
get their hands on that helmet?

What are you looking at us for?

I have to find him.

I'm sorry, Sam, but I can't let you go.

You don't know that's your dad.

But I know that you're not my dad.

Sam, wait!

No worries.

I've planted a tracker on his helmet.

What, you think I'm gonna let
ten million units just fly away?

Now, just have
to follow the signal...

right into the ground!

Coolest helmet in the galaxy.

Huh?

Sorry.

Dad?

I was told your
powers would be impressive.

You're not my dad.

I am Mantis, Celestial Protg
of the Universal Believers.

- You sent me a distress signal?
- An invitation.

I believe you are destined
for greatness, Samuel.

Wait. How do you know my name?

The Patriarch is eager to meet you.

Come with me, and our wise and
powerful leader will reveal all.

Thanks, but no, thanks. I've
got more important stuff to do.

The Patriarch believes he can
lead you to your father, Samuel.

Huh. Something tells me he went down.

Sam's combat skills are improving.

The guards
might not be so pleased.

They're Spartax m*llitary, but
I don't recognize this facility.

I am Groot?

Good point. Only two
guards for a joint this big?

When you believe,
numbers are unimportant.

Sam, you cannot trust this
lady or any of her loony kind.

Funny. That's just what
she said about you guys.

She can help me find my dad.

She's lying. She just wants your helmet.

I need no other's power,
for I believe. Behold!

Uh, that is a lot of Belief batteries.

Prepare to be crushed
under the weight of Belief.

That's some heavy belief.

Aahh!

Feel the power of Belief, un-believers!

Sam, dude,

friends don't let friends
get crushed by nutjobs.

You sure this is necessary?

Answer me this first, Samuel.

Do you believe they have
treated you as a friend?

Well, they did try to steal my helmet,

and scare me by getting into a fight.

That doesn't mean that
you have to crush them.

Not at all. I merely intend to hold them

and allow you to consult the Patriarch.

Seek him out at these coordinates.

Only the Patriarch knows
the path to your father.

I believe you will do
whatever it takes to find him.

Don't fall for her mojo, kid!

Aahh!

In this facility, my
"mojo," as you put it,

is more powerful than ever.

So what are
Belief batteries doing

in a Spartax m*llitary base?

Haven't you guessed?

The Spartax m*llitary
created the Believers.

After your interference thwarted
my plans to eliminate the Emperor

I was taken not to prison,
but to this top secret lab,

along with other mentally
enhanced captives.

They extracted our psychic powers

and converted them into raw energy.

I thought
we were being punished.

Until the Patriarch enlightened us.

With the true power of Belief.

Now that energy is stored here,

where it can be channeled and
molded at will by all who believe.

So let me get this straight.

Any loser who believes can
access the power of those batteries?

Yes. That is the wonder of Belief.

Then I believe I can kick your butt!

No!

The power cannot be
abused by un-believers.

We believe otherwise!

Aw, man! I don't believe this!

And that is why you will fail!

I believe there
is safety in numbers.

I am Groot!

Who wants a stupid Belief w*apon anyway?

We do. And so does Mantis.

If I can't have a
Belief w*apon, then nobody will!

I believe you lose, lady.

I am Groot.

Now tell us where you sent Sam.

And who is this "Patriarch"?

I still believe I will triumph!

Oh, I believe I know exactly who he is.

Sorry... again.

Hello, Samuel.

I've wanted to meet you for a long time.

How do you know who I am?

You're Jesse Alexander's
son, aren't you?

You know where to find my dad?

I know a great deal
about the Nova Centurions.

They're something of
a... Of a hobby of mine.

Really? That hobby end you up in here?

You don't have to trust me, Samuel.

But with your power, you
don't have to fear me either.

Free me, and I believe
I can find your father.

Not gonna happen, Dad.

Wait. The Patriarch is your dad?

J'Son of Spartax is many things.

And you can't trust any of them.

I am Groot.

I'm impressed, Dad. Why
imprison your enemies

when you can brainwash them
into your loyal servants?

The Guardians destroyed all
your Belief Batteries, Patriarch.

But the Believers will rise again!

Forget it, bug lady. The
Believers are history.

Haven't I taught you anything, son?

History is written by the victors.

Says the guy rotting in a prison cell.

Says the guy who empowered the Believers

and led them to revive an
ancient being known as Warlock,

who will empower me to
bring peace to the galaxy,

with an empire a thousand times greater

than the one you took away from me!

All while rotting in
this very prison cell.

Yeah, well, not anymore.

I tipped off the current
empress, your daughter Victoria.

Remember her? Let's just
say your next prison cell

is gonna make this
one look like a palace.

Meantime, take one
step out of this cell,

and I blast your royal heinie.

I guess there will be no
Alexander family reunion after all.

Pity.

Don't listen to him, Sam.

Remember how I told you the
galaxy's a dangerous place?

Well, my dad is the
most dangerous guy in it.

Yeah, I get it. You hate your
dad. But I don't hate mine.

And all this junk has gotten
me no closer to finding him.

The choice is yours, Samuel.

Who do you believe?

I'm so sorry.

Well chosen, Samuel.

Nothing can deter a loving
son from finding his father.

You, of all people,
should know that, Peter.

You are aiding the escape of
a convicted felon of Spartax.

Halt, or we will open fire.

Peter, we couldn't stop them,
and we have no way to trace them.

Heh. Don't be so...

Oh, flarg! Krutackin'
kid disabled my tracker!

This isn't over, Dad.
Not by a long sh*t.