Lift-Off
They endure teasing the next day; Gamora’s “finally” and Nebula’s “idiots” and Peter’s “you guys stink!”.
Neither of them can stop grinning.
None of the others can stand them.
Yondu doesn’t care.
The day after, though. The day after, Nebula and Yondu complete the finishing touches on the ship’s ignition sequencer, and are ready to test a takeoff. This causes an argument: Nebula and Yondu versus the other three.
“I know it’s not fair, Peter,” Yondu explains. “But either me or Nebbie need ta do this withoutchu on board. ‘Case anythin’ goes wrong.”
“That doesn’t explain why you both have to be on the ship,” Gamora says. “Can’t you start it remotely?”
“We need to take measurements of any problems,” Nebula replies. “This is no different than any other ship or expedition. Why are you so concerned?”
“Because I don’t want to lose you!”
“I feel the same way,” Kraglin says. “Let the ship start up by itself. And if anything goes wrong, fine – get back on board and fix it. But at least let’s make sure the ship won’t explode with either of you on it!”
Nebula and Yondu look at each other and concede defeat. “’S fine, Kraglin. We’ll do it remotely.”
“And another thing, you…! Wait… you’re agreeing with me? Really?”
“Yeah. Ain’t gonna make my mate angry at me so soon after the nookie-nookie. Otherwise might never get it again.”
Kraglin blushes to the roots of his mohawk. Gamora snorts; Nebula rolls her eyes. But it’s Peter who sums it up best: “Eww, more stinky stuff?”
“Bastard,” Kraglin says. It’s his new favorite word, except every time he says it, Yondu snickers instead of being offended. “I’ll get you back for that.”
“’M hopin’ so,” Yondu leers. “All right, so everybody get off the ship an’ we can test it.”
With that decree, the troop of five leaves the ship. Nebula brings the remote starters and measuring tools with her while Yondu picks up Peter and carries him down to ground level. They walk down the stretch of jungle until they’re far enough away to weather any imminent blast.
Yondu’s not too worried. He’s rigged, wired, and stolen ships before with more problems than this one. But the stakes seem twice as high. “All right, Nebula. Let ‘er rip.”
Six weeks, four days, twenty hours and six minutes from the start of the rebuild, and the ship engages like she’s cherry-new from a dealer. Yondu whoops, grabs ahold of Kraglin, and kisses him like it’s their last chance. “We did it!” he shouts.
Nebula pries the two of them apart to get her own squeeze. Yondu’s ribs ache with the pressure she exerts. “I wasn’t sure to trust you, pirate,” she says. “But I’m glad we did. I could not have done this without you.”
Peter’s still bouncing by the time the adults hug and cuddle him. “Who’s ready to get a move on?” Gamora asks.
That stops Yondu cold. He’s excited to get back to the stars, yes. But wants to find any other Ravagers and pick up his life? Not so much anymore. Especially as he looks at Peter – little Peter – and considers him in a brig, or in a battle, or in trouble.
“Yondu?”
“Hmm?” Yondu looks at Kraglin, who’s frowning. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Kraglin gives him the eye, but lets it rest. “Later, then,” he decides. “Time to go see the stars, yes?”
“Sure!” Yondu says, not wanting to worry Peter or the sisters. “Let’s get outta here.”
They head back to the ship and get Gamora’s help to check readings and panels, ensure displays are properly functioning. They engage power cells to check capacities, and do a quick fly-over the planet, landing back in their original position. By the time the light’s almost gone for the day, they’ve got their plan – a week to scavenge anything they want from any of the other crafts, the life pod, the planet – and then they pack up and head towards Knowhere.
Yondu slips away after dinner, disappears to the observation deck. He stares out the window until a warm, furry body presses into him. The tiger’s giant fangs glisten in the moons-light, reflecting off the glass. “Hey,” he tells the tiger. “You wanna shift?”
Kraglin does. He sits next to Yondu on the bench, unashamed of his nakedness. Yondu wraps an arm around him. “Ain’t thought about what happens next,” he says, before Kraglin can ask. “Not really. Got credits stashed around the galaxy, an’ we’d be fine, but I don’t think I can go back ta who I was before.”
“You’re a good man, Yondu,” Kraglin says.
Yondu scoffs. “But see, that’s the problem. Ya think I’m a good man, but I ain’t. Ain’t nothing but a pirate, and I used ta think that was enough, but I ain’t sure I wanna go back ta pillagin’ and piratin’ and puttin’ ya in danger while we chase loot across the stars. Kinda wanna find me a little place and settle.”
“Do you want to stay here? Let Nebula and Gamora take the ship and go?”
“No,” Yondu replies. “Cause I hate the idea of being land-bound here without at least a way ta get off-planet, if we ever needed ta escape anyone. An’ I don’t want yer village findin’ a way ‘cross the desert to hunt us down.”
That makes Kraglin pause a moment. “Do you know any planet that would be good for the three of us to live on? Maybe one with more people, but not too many? That we could make a home but not need to flee, have enough space to ourselves?”
“If that place exists, I ain’t never heard o’ it. An’ besides, most places, I got a bounty on my head. We wouldn’t be safe ‘round a lot of people.”
“Then I think we take our chances on the ship, drop off Gamora and Nebula, and the three of us float around the stars until we find that perfect planet. What do you think?”
Yondu can picture a thousand things that could go wrong, but he never expected a long life for himself. For Kraglin, though. And for Peter… “We’ll always have to be on our guard,” he cautions. “Ship’s big, but it’s old. We’ll need to invest in repairing the weapons, makin’ sure all of the engine drives get replaced. I ain’t got money for all that if we’re gonna try ta go legit.”
“We do.”
Both Yondu and Kraglin snap their heads around to find the extremely-sneaky assassins behind them. “One day yer gonna give me a heart attack,” Yondu grouses. “Whatchu doin’ listenin’ ta our chat?”
“We had a similar discussion today, it seems,” Gamora says.
“Where’s Peter?”
“In bed. Nebula and I also discussed our upcoming change of location.”
“And?” Yondu asks, when no further words are forthcoming. “Whatchu decide?”
“Neither of us prefer to leave Peter. Or the two of you,” Gamora says, begrudgingly. “We work well together, fight well together, live well together.”
“And as we are a crew of wanted felons – most of us – it would be prudent to carry on together, continue building the ship to be impenetrable, instead of splitting up and going our separate ways.”
Kraglin smiles, mouth growing into a wide grin. “You like us,” he says, laughing. “It’s good. We like you, too.”
“We prefer Peter,” Nebula sniffs, fooling absolutely no one. “But Yondu is not useless as a mechanic…”
“Hey!”
“And you are mostly tolerable company,” she finishes, giving Kraglin a quick wink. “If we pooled our credits and time, we could restore this ship to something glorious. We could then pick and choose what jobs we wanted as a crew of four. Take on only those crew we wanted.”
“Like family,” Kraglin says.
The other three scoff and sneer, but Yondu knows his mate hit the nail on the head. “Listen, Krags…”
“I know, I know, I’m not pirate material,” Kraglin says, nudging Yondu in the ribs with his elbow. “But I am definitely all in favor of keeping our little family together. You know Peter and I will die defending any of you, the same way you would for us, and no denying it.”
This gets Yondu a sharp look, and he doesn’t dare disagree with his feisty tiger. “Tuck them claws away, boy,” Yondu grumps. “I ain’t arguin’ with ya.”
“Good. So it’s decided – pool money, hire crew when we want to, keep making repairs, find a way to live on our own?”
“It sounds like a very good plan,” Gamora says. “Should we tell Peter tomorrow?”
“I believe that’s a good idea. In the meantime, we will leave you two to your discussion,” Nebula says. “Good night, pirate. Good night, Kraglin.”
“Good night, she-devil,” Yondu sing-songs, and grunts as something smacks him in the side. Oh, it’s Kraglin’s elbow again.
“Good night, Gamora. Good night, Nebula,” Kraglin says, and shakes a finger at Yondu.
Yondu responds by sucking Kraglin’s finger into his mouth. Kraglin moans.
“By the way, now that we’re not leaving, new rule: no sex in shared spaces!” Nebula shouts up the stairs. “No one wants to see that full blue moon!”
“She-devil,” Yondu mutters, as Kraglin howls in laughter. He shakes his head. “Why did I sign myself up for this?”