"Don't shoot him! DON'T SHOOT HIM!" J'son screamed at the group of men, weapons drawn. They looked uneasy at Peter, either because of his glowing red eyes, or the fact that he was aiming a gun at not only them, but their leader. "Does this council know about this? About how you were going to kill an innocent, and a group of my friends?" Peter asked. J'son shook his head. "Don't you see? I don't need the council! I have followers, and soon everyone will realize our old ways are the better ones! With the return of an heir, we can tackle so many extraordinary enemies!" J'son said with a smile. Peter didn't say anything at first, but then, slowly lowered his blasters.

The guards circled closer around him as his father took Peter's elemental blasters. "I know it is hard now, Star-Lord... But you will see that this is the best for everyone."

"You're a murderer. M-Mom would be ashamed if she saw what you are now..." Peter said, his red eyes glowing at J'son. "Go to Hell" Peter grabbed something out of his satchel, and threw it on the ground as he used his rocket boots to fly backwards. A giant flash appeared, with a horrible screeching noise as Peter landed hard on his back, but getting up as fast as he could. One of the Spartois aimed his rifle at Peter, but he grabbed it, and slammed it upward on his face, grabbing the rifle. He fired at another guard, pulling out another gadget from his bag and tossing it in the group. The ball opened, and a large gravitational pull dragging the guards on the ground, all crowded near the item Peter threw. Peter turned to face his father, but was surprised to see the end of his blasters staring right at him.

"Don't make me do this..." J'son said, clearly trying to control anger. How could his plan go wrong?! He was Spartoi! Star-Lord pressed the button on his ear, his helmet dissolving to reveal Peter's face full of anger, and tears falling down his face. "I'm glad you didn't have anything to do with my childhood. A group of outlaws are a million times better than what you could have taught me."

J'son gave another sad sigh, and put his finger on the trigger. "Goodbye, my son." He pulled the trigger but... Nothing happened.

Peter gave a cruel laugh and looked at him. "Those guns are genetically bonded with me. They'll only fire if my finger print is on the trigger." J'son was either too shocked or angry to do anything except glare at him. Peter grabbed the guns, pulled J'son in, and at the same time, slammed his head in to his. The body crumpled down to the floor unconscious, Peter standing over him. 

After a second or two Peter bellowed in pain, grabbing his forehead. "No one wins in a headbutt... So much cooler in the movies..." Peter muttered.