"Wha'd I say?" the blue man says sternly. He folds his arms and stares down at his adopted son.

"No..."

"Damn right! Now you get your humie butt in that simulator," Yondu gently kicks Peter's behind, nudging the boy toward a strange-looking pod. "You ain' touchin' one o' my ships 'til I know you c'n prime the drives without blowin' up."

The young Terran pouts, "But Kraglin told me the M-ship's 're nothing like the sim."

Udonta grits his teeth, he feels his patience being stretched, he drops a hand on the boy's shoulder and kneels to be eye-to-eye with the child. "The consoles are in the same language, boy," he thumps Peter on the chest for emphasis, "That's what you gotta be payin' attention to. You c'n hit every single button in that sim and learn what all them symbols mean, an' do it without droppin' anymore real missiles inside my real ship. You understand me?"

The nine-year-old fidgets under that red, alien gaze, "Yes, Sir."

"Good," the Ravager Captain smiles a jagged smile, "Now, g'won, get to it. I come check on you in a while."

"But..."

"No but's, Peter. I already tol' you what to do if Gef tries ta hang you up like cargo ag'in, didn' I?" The kid nods but still hesitates, Yondu lifts the boy's chin, "An' what did I tell you, son?"

Quill brightens a tiny bit, he can't explain it, but he kinda likes it when the Captain calls him 'son.' "Kick 'im in the face."

"Tha's right," Udonta replies, "An' when 'e drops, wha' do ya do then?"

"Keep kickin' 'im, aim for the tender bits," Peter starts to grin, "Gef's all tender bits."

The Captain snorts and swallows a laugh, "Tha's true, but what bits are we actually aimin' for?"

"The neck..."

Yondu frowns slightly and gives the barest shake of his head. He tips his head up and taps his fingers against his throat.

"The throat."

The Centaurian nods once and lowers his hand to rest over his belly.

"The gut," Peter answers the unspoken prompt.

Yondu nods again, his brow lifts and he locks eyes with his adopted child. His hand lowers again to hover over his crotch region.

The young Terran snickers, "And the balls! ...But dingin' a man's balls should be an escape move or I'm likely ta get shot."

"There ya go!" Udonta chuckles, "I know you ain' afraid of a fight, son, but ya gotta keep yer wits about you. Tides turn as they do an' sometimes you gotta hit hard," he fakes a punch to boy's gut, Peter giggles and blocks the hit, "an' skedaddle. Ain' that right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's my boy," Yondu shakes the kid's shoulder and climbs to his feet. "Now, g'won," he says as he pushes Peter toward the simulator again, "No Ravagers in my faction that can't fly, an' you ain' abou' ta be the first."

"No, Sir!" Quill exclaims and darts away, "I'm gonna be the best pilot in the whole clan! I'm gonna be better than Maverick!"

Yondu chuckles again as he watches the child climb into the simulator. "Sure... whoever that jackass is..."