#tulk

-GotG-

“Picked up any signals yet, Marty?”

“Just the one so far, Captain,” his first mate answered. “Matches the data Kraglin gave us on this ‘Taserface’ fellow’s ship.”

“Where is he, then?”

“Close - this quarterside of the planet. Looks like he’s skimming the surface.”

Stakar’s eyes narrowed. “Searching for Yondu.”

“Seems so.” Martinex half-turned in his seat in order to look up at his captain, the two of them alone in the cockpit. “Exactly what are we planning when we find him, sir?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Mm.”

Then flew on in silence for a while after that.

-GotG-

“Well,” Martinex said. “I think I know why we couldn’t pick up a signal from Yondu’s M-ship.”

He kept their own craft hovering just above a smoking heap of mangled metal - the remains of the Warbird, a ship Yondu had been flying since he was still a member of Stakar’s original crew. Obviously, Taserface had found it when he got to Mejak Three, and decided to preemptively cut off the Centaurian’s escape by blasting it to smithereens.

“Marty?”

“Yessir?”

“We still have the bastard’s coordinates?”

“That we do. He’s set down over behind the next ridge.”

“Good. Let’s go see if he likes having his own M-ship torched.”

“You got it, Captain.” Hard as it was to see Martinex’s expressions sometimes, there was no mistaking the glee in his voice. Stakar allowed himself a grim smile.

He and Aleta had taken turns teaching Yondu to be a pilot in that ship. For those memories, and them alone, he was willing to enact a bit of vengeance on the Centaurian’s behalf.

Once they’d gotten to Taserface’s black and red M-ship, and subsequently blown it sky-high, Stakar and three of his men disembarked. They hadn’t taken so much as a single step into the forest when a wide-eyed Xandarian emerged at a dead sprint, clearly coming to investigate the explosion. He didn’t have time to do more than gape at the other Ravagers before Stakar fired a shot straight through his skull.

“Guess we’re goin’ this way then.”

After giving Martinex a quick wave to take their own ride back into the air, Stakar set off through the trees.

They had to wander for a bit, but eventually, the sound of blasterfire led them straight to a series of narrow ravines. There was a single guard waiting by the exit, weapon at the ready, who didn’t realize Stakar and his men were there until it was too late. Further ahead and out of sight, an enraged voice was bellowing threats.

“C’mon out, Quill, so I can rip ya ‘part! Ain’t no more Yondu ta keep me from doin’ it, boy! Yer finally gonna see just worthless you are, ya little piece a shit!”

“Gonna take a wild guess an’ say that’s Taserface,” one of the men behind Stakar said.

“An’ don’t he sound happy!” Another joked, hefting up his rifle a bit higher.

The sound of a single shot reached them, followed by a roar of pain and an increase in shouted obscenities.

“I dunno who this ‘Quill’ is, but I like him already. Giffer, Lekz, I want each a you on either side a those cliffs,” Stakar ordered. “Attrik, keep a step behind me.” His men all rumbled their affirmatives, and moved to where their captain needed them. Once they were ready, Stakar led the way into the ravines.

Fallen rocks and trees made the terrain more difficult to navigate, keeping their pace at a crawl. From the way the fool Taserface kept yelling, Stakar guessed that Quill must’ve been using that to his advantage, keeping out of the mutineer’s sight while he ducked around between spots of cover. Sure enough, when he and Attrik finally reached a high point where they could actually see the ugly man, he was blindly firing at the mess of jumbled stones and shattered trunks around him. Like his two followers, Taserface went down before he knew what hit him.

“Nice shot,” Stakar commented absently, getting a grin from his crewman as Attrik powered down his rifle. Then, the High Captain raised his voice. “Oi! Anybody by the name a Quill out here?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Taken aback by the unexpectedly young voice, it took a moment for Stakar to reply. “I’m Captain Ogord of the Starhawk, head of the One Hundred Ravager Clans.”

“Never heard of you.”

Attrik snorted. Stakar shot him a dirty look.

“You know Kraglin though, dontcha? He’s the one who told us you ‘n Yondu were down here.”

“...Did he give you the code phrase?”

Stakar took a deep breath and slowly let it out again. “What code phrase? I don’t have time to waste, Quill. With the Warbird and that Taserface’s M-Ship destroyed, we’re your only way off this rock and back to what’s left of Yondu’s crew. Now, are you gonna show yourself or not?”

After a few beats of silence, they heard a scrabbling noise, followed by a flash of maroon. A moment later, an honest to goodness pipsqueak of a kid popped out of the mess further down the ravine. He scowled at Taserface’s cooling corpse, then transferred a more wary version of the same look to Stakar. “You’re really other Ravagers?”

Seeing that Stakar was too stunned to respond, Attrik did it for him. “Yeah, kid, we are. How old are you?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “...Almost fifteen.”

That blatant lie was enough to stir Stakar back to proper functionality. “Now that’s a load a crap if ever I heard one.”

Bristling, the kid’s scowl deepened. “Well how old do you think I am, then? And what’s my age got to do with anything, anyway? You said you didn’t have time to waste.”

Stakar’s patience snapped. “I think you’re barely a day over twelve, that it’s important ‘cause I warned Yondu not to deal in kids anymore, and you’re right, I’m in a hurry, so where is that blue piece a scum hiding while a boy fights his battles for him?”

Instantly, the kid’s right arm swung up, his little blaster aimed straight for Stakar. “You take that back,” he growled, eyes lighting up dangerously.

“What? About Yondu being scum? Don’t tell me he didn’t snatch you away from wherever your home is.”

“So what if he did? I didn’t want to stay there anymore anyway!” The boy’s arm started to shake a bit. “And Yondu’s not hiding! He got hurt tryin’ to keep Taserface away from me, so I had to lead the bastard away before he killed him! And screw you if you think I’m gonna tell you where he is just so you can hurt him too!” The shaking was getting worse, and he brought up his other hand to grip the blaster in an effort to keep it still. Out of the corner of his eye, Stakar saw movement, and knew that both his other men were just waiting for his word to take the kid down before he shot someone.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

“Peter!”

Not so thankfully, it was because Yondu himself appeared at the other end of the ravine.

At his hoarse call, the kid twisted in place, trying to keep the blaster pointed at Stakar even as he looked behind him. He opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but only a wordless noise of distress came out.

Stakar understood how he felt. Yondu was a mess.

There was a wide gash over the stop of his skull, in line with a puncture in his fin that was spitting out sparks. Dark marks that would soon become full-blown bruises covered most of his face, and there were blaster burns peeping through holes in his coat and trousers. The liberal smears of blood didn’t help matters either.

“Don’tchu go pointin’ yer weapon at th’ High Captain, Quill,” Yondu rasped, supporting himself against the ravine wall as he staggered forward another couple steps. “I let yew keep that thing t’ defend yerself, not piss off one a th’ only decent assholes in th’ galaxy.”

“But he- Yondu!” The kid’s protest became a yelp when the Centaurian toppled over. Stakar and Attrik obviously forgotten, he darted down the ravine to Yondu’s side. “No no no, come on you blue doofus, you can’t die! Please!”

Eyebrows going up at the genuine fear in the boy’s voice, Stakar strode after him. The kid didn’t notice until the man stood over him and Yondu.

“You can’t hurt him,” the boy said, practically begging, his little hands gripping Yondu’s coat as if that alone would keep him from death. “You can’t. He’s hurt enough.”

Sighing, Stakar leaned down to grab the kid by the back of his own miniature Ravager jacket. Hoisting him into the air triggered a new round of yowling, as the boy demanded to be let go, cried out for Yondu, squirmed and kicked and scratched like a wild animal.

“Captain?”

“Get him up, Attrik,” Stakar said, jerking his head at Yondu’s prone form. “Call Martinex for a pick up. And,” he sighed again. “Tell him to have the first aid kit ready.”

At that, the kid finally slowed his struggling, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Yessir!”

This was clearly going to be an even bigger mess than anticipated.