Notes: Saal caught my interest in the movie [and so did Nova Corps in general], so we are adding him—albeit reluctantly, kicking and screaming—to the team. Technically AU, but they didn't show a body and I'm in denial, so Saal is still alive.
My trigger/tagging/warning policy: I err on the side of caution. I tag and warn for things like ableism, depression/self-harm, arophobia, and the like even if I don't think they'll be "triggering" per say, because 1) I might be wrong, and 2) some days you just don't need that kind of negativity in your life now matter how good the story is.
Updating policy: Notes: A chapter goes up as soon as it's ready. The whole story is planned but not written, and so while real life may slow me down I will finish this. Reader interest and reviews help motivate me.
Rated for swearing and canon-typical violence. [I won't warn for low-key violence or swearing but grossness and slurs will be tagged.] Enjoy and please review!
Disclaimer for entire fic: Marvel owns the Guardians of the Galaxy and they can take my money anytime they want.
Chapter 1-Prologue
Summary: Denarian Garthan Saal didn't have any next of kin.
Notes: Welcome! In order to avoid TLDR, extended notes are at the end of each chapter, while warnings and important notices are up here.
Warnings: institutionalized ableism
Denarian Saal didn't have any next of kin.
"Nova Prime, we need your approval for extreme medical procedures for Denarian Garthan Saal."
"By the stars, did you say Saal? He's alive?"
"For the moment. But he has no listed next of kin and you're the closest superior officer he's got. Our chain of command's all fu—um, messed up. Medical needs approval—"
"Yes, of course. Do whatever you have to."
Public records—and those became all-too-popular after the famous Battle for Xandar—listed very briefly two wealthy parents, an enlistment in the Nova Corps at seventeen, and a subsequent disownment by said parents. A look at the pertinent dates showed they occurred during that odd little period many cycles back where it had been fashionable to hate Nova Corps for some reason or other; gossip circles inferred that the enlistment prompted the disinheritance.
No further records of a personal nature—no marriages, custody deferments, etc. A casual grift through commercial databases revealed that he had surprisingly little presence on the net; a deeper one might pick up purchase orders and subscriptions from a variety of sources. Nothing shady, just eclectic. A few very curious souls went asking around fences, brothels, and other establishments of that nature and came up with nothing but hot air and general unwillingness to implicate so effective a corpsman in anything that might invite reprisal.
"Are you fucking kidding? Nobody around here has any dirt on Saal, and they wouldn't tell if they did. The bastard knows everything. I'm just glad he stopped working the streets a couple years back."
To all outside appearances, Denarian Saal was almost a non-entity outside the Corps. Even within the Corps, those who were not his direct superiors or subordinates often gossiped that while he might be very effective indeed, he was about as warm as a frost giant and as interesting as a hokey Terran satellite. The people who had worked with him, however, tended to be fond of him for some reason.
"First combat mission, Dey?"
"Yes sir."
"Nervous?"
"Yeah… I mean, yes sir."
"You'll survive. Trust me, this is a milk run. Routine scouting."
"That's likely."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean… It's just that my wife is expecting, and with you being—Sorry, I'll shut up now."
"Out with it, Dey."
"Well sir, you have a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a, uh…"
"An a-hole? A salt pillar? I know what they call me, Corpsman."
"Um… yeah. I mean, you keep new squadrons out past deployment for no reason all the time—and I wouldn't normally care—it's just, Marika's due only a few days after we're scheduled to get back."
"No reason? Not fond of extra training, are you? No, don't answer that. I will have you back on time, Dey. This time."
The people of Xandar were very frustrated with having so bland a war hero, especially with the mysterious Guardians of the Galaxy having vanished shortly after the battle. The Nova Corps was also frustrated. Heroes were only convenient in two forms: as martyrs, and as healthy, active corpsmen. And Denarian Saal no longer fell into either of those categories.
There had been precious few survivors among those who had held the blockade, and none from Saal's own company, right in the center of the carnage. Of the survivors pulled out of the wreckage, only a few dozen had survived long enough for the med teams to do anything more than ease them to sleep. And of those who still pulled through, none had been as permanently damaged as Denarian Saal. None had even come close—they had all been from the fringes of the blockade. Modern medicine could do many things, but not everything.
"Denarian Saal! This is the Daily Xandarian. Could we get a comment from you on the nature of your status with Nova Corps?"
"This is a funeral, citizen. Have some respect for the dead."
"Are the rumors true that you lost a limb, Denarian?"
"Can you tell us anything about the Guardians of the Galaxy?"
"Last time I checked this was not their funeral. Nor mine. If you don't leave, I can arrange for it to be yours."
Reserve-Corps Centurion Saal did not react well to his promotion.
"Nova Prime, I am honored at your esteem. Your clerk seems to have made a mistake, however. This says Reserve-Corps."
"Centurion Saal, I'm very sorry, but it is not a mistake. It has been decided, and not by me, that in light of your condition, you should be removed from active duty."
"Condition? I'm am perfectly capable of—I can still make command decisions for—You can't—For how long?"
"Now Saal, you have be honest with yourself."
Shortly afterwards, a stubbornly ineradicable video clip of Nova Prime's expression at Saal's uncharacteristically colorful refusal—which sadly was not recorded—was leaked onto the net and became the face of several memes.
Denarian Saal retired with honors but no promotion. He cagily refused to make appearances at any event other than the funerals of his company members and other martyred corpsmen. He attended appointments with his assigned Nova Corps shrink with a perfunctory poise that betrayed nothing. He attempted to weasel his way back into the Corps by consulting still-active coworkers on their own cases. He avoided liquor and other addictive distractions with adamancy but displayed every other sign of antisocial reclusivity with such intensity that people whispered rumors of drunkenness.
"Hello, Dey."
"Saal, I can't."
"I wasn't going to ask for anything."
"Sure. Look, I've been told to stop giving you access to my case files. Besides, I don't even have very many anymore now that they gave me permanent babysitting duty."
"Babysitting?"
"Quill and his gang. It's harder than it looks."
"Hmph. How are Ada and Marika?"
"Very excited that I now have a desk job and can spend more time on Xandar."
"Enjoying desk-duty, are you, Denarian Dey?"
"Not everyone is a space addict like you."
"I don't see why not. It's not as if there is anything to do on the ground. Not outside the Corps, anyway."
"You could always get a private pilot license, you know. Consult for a trading corporation or something."
"It's not the same."
"You have to come out of your flat sometime, Saal. The gossip about you is horrific. It would make a lot of people feel better if you started adjusting."
"Meaning I'm embarrassing Nova Corps. I have been in the Corps for over twenty cycles and you've know me for at least half that—tell me, have you never noticed that I care at all for what other people think of me?"
"Your friends, Saal. You do have some, and I was talking about them."
In short, Denarian Saal did not know what to do with himself.
"Hello, Saal? Look, I had an idea. I've found something for you to do. Something you'll probably enjoy very much, if you can get over a few… inhibitions."
"What are you even talking about?"
"Look, whatever happens in the next few days… just go with it. Okay?"
"Wait—go with what? Dey, what are you—?"
"Bye Saal. Have fun."
"Wait—!"
Notes: So in the interest of avoiding TLDR-syndrome with my beginning notes, which contain important things like warnings, I'll be using the end-notes to rant, thank my reviewers, talk about the shit I didn't bother to research, etc… Feel free to skip them. I promise they'll be fun, though.
I'm taking whatever liberties I feel like with canon details about Nova Corps and the characters because there isn't actually a lot of info on them yet in the cinematic universe. I haven't read the comics, but I've done some wiki-walks that gave me inspiration for a few things.
Saal's nickname in Nova Corps is the Salt Pillar. I feel very clever for having thought it up.