Peter Quill mutinied, so Yondu Udonta put a bounty on his head. Takes place just before the Cherry Bomb montage.

For Qweb, because more people search for her screen name than mine.

Bounty on the Mutiny

Yondu Udonta had doubts about many things, Peter Quill's truthfulness being chief among them. However, he was sure that the Collector had offered a huge bounty on the d'ast orb. One that was big enough to cover the bounty that he had put on Quill. So he should come out ahead on this deal, especially since he got his hands on Quill without paying out. This made him very happy. However, he had not laid hands on the orb. Which made him angry. Even worse, he was now committed to attacking Ronan's forces.

Well, maybe not, he could back out. If he wanted to be branded a coward. Worse, if he wanted to be branded as being a welsher. There were two kinds of "bad" reputations for outlaws. One was the kind that got you feared. The other was the kind that cut off access to resources, like seed money, extra cannon fodder or safe drydocks. Welsher fell under the second category.

That's the trouble with agreeing to things with witnesses about, Yondu grumbled internally. He should have known better than to let Peter Quill shoot his mouth off, damn conniving human. He should have eaten that boy, or at least his tongue, when he had the chance.

"Okay, you know what you gotta do," Yondu snarled at the Ravagers. "Everybody but Kraglin and these sorry space trash get to yer stations… NOW!"

"Is that any way to talk to yer new best buddies?" the furry maniac asked.

"I am Groot," from the tree was the only response anybody made as the Ravagers scrambled for their battle stations.

"We ain't a team," Rocket said. "But I ain't joining any group called 'space trash.'"

"Well, fer now, yer in my crew," Yondu drawled.

"Oh, joy," Quill said dryly. "Been so lookin' forward to the reunion."

"Shut up before I rip out yer damn tongue, Boy," Yondu growled. "Anyhow, if you yahoos are going to to be with my crew, you gotta look like proper Ravagers."

The big brute, Drax, sputtered indignantly.

"Metaphor!" said three of the other four quickly. All the tree said was "I am GROOT!"

"It sounds more like an oxymoron to me," Drax said in a surprisingly soft and cultured tones. "But if it is indeed a metaphor, then I shall overlook the insult at being thought that I would join such a feral congregation."

Everybody stared at him.

"Newsflash, tattoo man," the furry cyborg said. "You have joined this feral congregation." He looked thoughtful. "Yanno, that has a nice ring to it. Maybe we should adopt it."

"No," Gamora said to Rocket, to Yondu she said. "If you have a point, Ravager, get to it."

The assassin clearly had no patience for nonsense. Yondu felt better, figuring that she would be putting Quill in the hospital in the near future. "You need to dress in Ravager uniform," Yondu informed her.

"I already am," Quill said, needlessly pointing out the obvious.

Maybe eating his tongue would be a bad idea, Yondu thought. It might transmit Mad Earther Disease or something.

"You all need to," Kraglin said.

"Why?" asked Gamora.

"Safety," Yondu replied. "In a firefight, we need to be able to differentiate the jackholes who are shooting at us from the jackholes who are on our side."

"We don't intend to be in a firefight with Ravagers," Drax pointed out. "Your crew is to remain in your ships while we engage in hand to hand combat with Ronan's forces."

"Well, that's the plan," Yondu snorted. "In the history of warfare, there ain't never been a battle that went accordin' to plan. So, unless you want to get accidentally hit by friendly fire…"

"Another oxymoron," the Destroyer muttered under his breath.

"I suggest you follow Kraglin to Quartermaster Nor and get dressed so's those idjits I command might recognize you in the heat of battle," Yondu snarled over Drax's complaint.

"Bet you don't have nuthin' that fits me," the furry cyborg muttered.

"How much?" Yondu challenged. "We got runts small as you on board, mongrel." He glared at Gamora, who glared back. "Kraglin, tell Jades to fork over one of her spare uniforms," he said. "Women's clothing ain't something we got a lot of," he admitted.

"Quartermaster Nor won't like that none, Cap'n," Kraglin said worried.

"I don't give a shit, just get it done!" Yondu made a gesture that was part dismissal and part anatomically improbable suggestion.

Kraglin left, with Quill's crew trailing behind him, griping all the way.

"I didn't get a chance to take that bet!" the furry cyborg complained. "I could have made some units, 'cause there ain't no way these yahoos will have a uniform that'll fit me!"

"I am Groot!"

"I agree," said the Destroyer. "You will look cute dressed as a Ravager."

"I will not… Hey! That's not what he said. And you don't even understand Groot! What makes you think he said I'd look cute…"

"I didn't," rumbled the Destroyer. "I merely conjectured."

The rest of the argument became inaudible.

This left Yondu alone with Quill for the first time in a Celestial's age. "Why din't you go with yer friends, Boy?" Yondu growled.

"Don't need another Ravager uniform," Quill said blandly, indicating his jacket. "Don't need to get my teeth punched in, either."

"Then what do you need, Boy?" snarled Yondu. (Although he agreed that putting Quill within arm's reach of Jades Nor was a bad idea.)

"My money," Quill said blandly.

Yondu was actually taken aback. "Yer WHAT?!"

"The money you owe me," Quill said blandly. He rocked back on his heels, thumbs hooked into his belt.

Yondu wondered if Quill actually was suffering from Mad Earther Disease. "What'chu talking about boy! I don't owe you nuthin!"

"You posted a 40K bounty," Quill explained smugly. "I handed the target over to you. Therefore, you owe me the bounty." He pulled out a data pad and began tapping on it. "I called you over an open comm, you know. Who knows how many people heard and recorded that message."

Yondu was so busy gaping that he couldn't pucker up to whistle for his yakka arrow. "You can't collect the bounty on yer own head, you idjit!"

"No rule that says I can't," Quill's customary smirk snuck onto his face. "You certainly didn't specify that I can't." He held up the pad so Yondu could read the terms of the bounty. "You gonna welsh? You know what happens to welshers."

Yondu did, and it wasn't pretty. "Nobody can reasonably expect me…"

"Don't exactly deal with reasonable people," Quill pointed out. "And we both know there are dozens, maybe even hundreds of mudsuckers out there who would just love to do you dirt. And how are you going to keep a crew if word gets around you don't pay up?"

The hell of it was that Quill was right. "Awright! Awright!" Yondu capitulated. That boy's tongue should be registered as a deadly weapon. "I'll transfer the units after…"

"Now," Quill said quietly, with a grim look in his eyes. He handed a data pad to Yondu.

Yondu was shocked. Every now and then he was reminded that Quill had actually proven himself to be a true Ravager. He snorted. "You always was the best negotiator I ever trained." He made the unit transfer and held the pad out to Quill.

That damn smirk was back. "Now I'll take my five thousand unit fee."

Yondu's expletive came out at such a high pitch, he was surprised that his yakka arrow didn't spontaneously combust. "What makes you think that I'll pay you for deserting?"

Quill spoke slowly, as if to a particularly slow thinker. "You hired me to fetch the orb." He took the pad and punched some information into it. He held the results up for Yondu to read. "You even put the contract in writing."

"You broke the contract!" Yondu sputtered. "You were supposed to bring the orb to me!"

"The contract required the orb to be delivered to the Broker," Quill said mockingly.

"Not by you!"

Quill shook his head. "There's nothing in this contract…" he shook the pad at Yondu. "... that says that you have to deliver or even touch the orb."

"I…"

"Plus, if I hadn't nabbed the d'ast thing, Ronan's freaky sidekick would have grabbed it."

"Yeah, and he'd've gave it to Ronan… Which same has already happened!" Yondu yelled.

"Which same don't matter!" Quill laughed, laughed! "Nothing in this contract specifies what was to happen to the orb after it was delivered to the Broker. Hell, it don't even say that the Broker has to pay for it."

Yondu took a deep breath, preparing to skewer the brat's tongue.

"And how many jackwipes out there do you reckon want to label you a welcher? Ruin your credit among the fences… sorry, brokers…"

"Ah, shaddup," Yondu snapped. Damned if he ever gave Quill a written contract again. He punched the face of the pad so hard he was surprised he didn't put his thumb through it.

"Why thank you, Yondu," Quill said, still laughing. "Always a pleasure…"

Yondu whistled and Quill shut up. He didn't stop smirking, however.

"See ya in the hanger," Quill said. He started to swagger after his crew.

"Quill, do you really expect that you… we… can get that damn orb back?" Yondu asked, more to wipe that smirk of the brat's face than to get an answer.

"I expect we'll all die."

Yondu hadn't expected that, nor the serious expression on Quill's face. "Then why even try, Boy?" he demanded.

"Can't just let all those people die, Yondu," Quill said soberly. "I… we have got to try. Especially since Ronan's not going to stop with Xandar."

Yondu had about three seconds to contemplate his "adoptee" as being a hero type before the smirk returned to Quill's face.

"Besides, you said it yourself, no battle in history has gone according to plan," Quill said, shrugging. "Maybe planning to die is the best way to avoid dying." He swaggered down the corridor and Yondu shook his head.

If he survived this battle, he was going to have to do something about that boy's tongue. Maybe it would go down well with a nice Centaurian ale, especially if he sterilized the damn thing first.