Knowhere. One of the seediest, most dangerous places in the galaxy. And, as it happens, one of the best places to broker a profitable deal.
That's what brought Yondu Udonta here with his crew. It's the biggest job he's had since breaking off from Stakar's clan and coming into his own. Everything is going according to plan. He's got the details on the heist: where to enter, how many guards there will be, the necessary tools – the whole shebang. He swaggers confidently back in the general direction of the Eclector. One by one his crew has split off to bars and brothels until it's just Horuz and Half-Nut tagging along behind him. Yondu pauses, watching as a new model of sexbot passes by on the arm of a drunk. He grins after her, wondering just where he can get a piece of that when the noise of a crowd diverts his attention.
Turning, he sees a makeshift fighting ring with a crowd gathered in small pockets in front of it. Milling inside the perimeter of the ring are Skrulls. Yondu scowls in their direction. Next to the Kree, they've got the biggest slave industry in the galaxy.
As he watches, one of the Skrulls pushes a Xandarian boy into the ring. He's 12, maybe 14 years old, but it's hard to tell. He's tall, but skinny with lanky arms and legs that he doesn't quite seem to fit into. His back is crisscrossed with scars, lashes stand out a faded blue on the high end of his back. His head his shaved bald, covered in scabs and bruises.
Yondu's gut roils, his hands clench until his fingernails dig painfully into his palms. He doesn't want to stay and watch, but his feet have taken root where he stands.
Another slave is put into the ring, and he realizes what this is. It's a culling. They're sorting out the strongest slaves from the rest - for use in battle, labor or gods know what else. He swallows involuntarily as the Xandarian's opponent approaches - the boy's a goner. But to Yondu's surprise, blow after blow hits its mark, and opponent after opponent goes down at the boy's hands.
That is, until a huge Baluurian slave is pushed into the ring.
He's older than the Xandarian, and about three times his size, with hands as big as the boy's head. The Xandarian falters back a step, wipes his brow, and charges. He lands some good hits, even gets the Baluurian down to his knees, but he's fought four other opponents already, and the Baluurian is fresh.
The boy makes one simple mistake - his foot slides just a little too far on landing, throws him off balance just enough for the Baluurian to land a rib-crushing blow to the side. The boy cries out, blue blood spurting from his mouth, and falls to the ground. The Baluurian twists the boy's arm behind him, forcing his face into the dirt, and hovers his foot over his skull. Just before he stomps down, the Skrulls enter the ring and pull him off.
They don't make a move to help the boy up. They kick him in the sides instead and spit some of their ugly language into his face. He struggles to get up, shouting back; they pull out prods and send electric currents racing over his body until he's too spent to rise.
They say something to one another, and one snaps his fingers.
The boy makes one last effort, gets to his knees, and clutches the nearest Skrull's leg. Even from this distance, Yondu can see the tears streaming down his face, but can't hear what he's saying. But whatever words are spoken, he can tell the boy is begging.
The lead Skrull pulls a smaller Xandarian girl into the ring, and upon seeing the boy, she reaches her arms towards him. He struggles against his captors, stretching his hands for her, but he's held back forcefully, prods at his throat. The head slaver pulls out a curved knife.
Yondu sees what's about to happen, wills his feet to move, but he can't possibly reach her in time.
The Skrull drags the knife across the girl's throat and she drops like a stone.
Yondu's witnessed a lot of terrible noises in his lifetime, especially from his time under the Kree. Noises of pain, fear, death. But the scream that comes out of the boy's mouth is the most horrific sound he's ever heard.
It makes his blood run cold, shakes his very bones, transforms every bit of his skin into prickling goose-flesh. He wants to clap his hands over his ears, run far away from it - but what he sees next is beyond imagination and he can't look away.
By all rights, every bit of the boy's strength should be gone - wiped out from his matches, beatings and the electrocution he's received.
But he flings himself upon the Skrulls like a demon straight from hell.
He beats with his fists, claws with broken nails, kicks, bites wherever he can get his mouth. He gets his arms around the throat of one of the slavers, and with jerk so strong it should be impossible for someone his size, breaks the Skrull's neck. He's frothing at the mouth, eyes wild. The electric prods are doing nothing to stop him. The lead Skrull stabs him, but he might as well have been poking him with a feather, the way the boy reacts. Soon, his frail body is slick with his own blue blood and the green of the Skrulls.
Yondu feels his feet stepping forward, moving faster, faster until he's in a flat out run towards the boy. He's going to die unless Yondu does something, quick.
With a final scream, the last Skrull falls dead at the boy's hands. A sizeable crowd has formed, and there are several traders and slavers among them that are eyeing the boy with interest. Pursing his lips and emitting a shrill whistle, Yondu calls his Yaka arrow to life. It streaks through the crowd like a red bolt of lightning. "Y'all back up," he growls. The arrow spins, hovers, twitches at anyone who makes a sudden movement.
"What the hell is this?" a slaver in the crowd asks, raising a hand to swat the arrow out of his way.
A piercing note from between Yondu's teeth, and the slaver's sporting a new hole in his head. "I said, back th' hell up!" Yondu roars, and within seconds no one is within a 20-foot radius of the ring, except him, Half-Nut and Horuz. Yondu leaps over the makeshift fence, and carefully approaches the boy, stepping over the twisted and mangled corpses of the Skrulls.
There are dozens of wounds across the boy's frame, most of them bleeding freely. But he doesn't seem to care. He cradles the girl's lifeless body in his arms, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.
Yondu takes off his coat and lays it lightly over the boy's shoulders. The boy flinches violently, his head jerks up at him. His eyes are blue-grey and the emptiness inside them pierce Yondu to his soul.
The Ravager holds up his hands, fingers spread to show that they're empty. "It's ok, boy. Ain't gonna hurt ya."
There are no tears on his face now, though he continues to tremble. He says nothing, then seems to decide that Yondu is not a threat; he turns his hollow gaze back to the girl. Part of the Ravager wonders if the boy even saw him at all. Yondu watches as he traces the girl's face with a finger, bends to kiss her forehead. Then slowly, he crumples into a heap over her body.
Yondu bends to touch him, but he doesn't respond. Turning him over, Yondu finds that the boy's eyes have rolled back into his head, and he's gone totally limp. The Ravager hefts the boy - who's even lighter than he looks - into his arms. He ignores the stares from his crew. "Back to the ship." He whistles, and the arrow follows them back to the Eclector, darting this way and that in their midst.
Yondu strides into the med bay. "What's the verdict, doc?"
The resident medic, a Krylorian with grey in his beard, turns from the sink shaking his head. "I don't know how, but he's alive. He'll recover, but it'll take some time." He walks over to one of the screens that line one wall, where scans of the boy's body are projected. "Four broken ribs, a broken hand, broken nose, bruised kidney, sprained ankle, not to mention all the lacerations, bruises and broken teeth - and on top of all that, a concussion, dehydration and malnutrition."
"Shit." Yondu runs a hand over his face. "Where is he?"
"Right over here." The doctor leads him behind a screened partition, where the boy lies, hooked up with wires and monitors. A bone knitter is just finishing on the boy's hooked nose, and retracts back into the headboard of the medical bed with a soft whir and a click.
Yondu notices that the boy's wrists and ankles are strapped down, and begins to undo the ties.
"Erm, Captain?" the doc says warily.
"Why'd you do this?" Yondu growls.
"Well, after I heard about the situation - I thought it was a precaution I should take. He sounds unstable."
"Chains like this made him unstable." Yondu's implant starts to pulse red. "He ain't gonna wear any kind a' restraints ever again. Is that clear?" he barks, his teeth bared.
The doc stumbles back a step. "Yessir, Captain."
Yondu exhales deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself down. He glances down at the boy; his eyes move fretfully under their lids. One eye is swollen shut, dark blue and purple. "You got him on anythin' for the pain?" he asks after a couple moments.
"Yessir, but he's due for another dose. I'll be right back with that."
The doctor walks briskly away, and Yondu can hear him rummaging around in one of his cabinets. He leans down close to the boy's ear. "Look, I dunno if y'can hear me, boy, but listen up if ya can. Yer safe. Y'aint with those damn Skrulls no more. Doc's patchin' ya up, and yer gonna be..." he wants to say "fine" but from personal experience, he doubts that will ever be true. "Yer gonna get better," he says instead.
The boy's eyelids flutter, and his one good eye opens, turning up to him. The monitor's soft beeping picks up as his heart rate increases; his chest rises and falls quickly.
Yondu lays a light hand on his shoulder. "It's ok. Yer safe. Once yer healed up, I'll take ya wherever ya want ta go."
The boy's lips move, but Yondu can't quite hear him, so he cautiously leans an ear towards his mouth.
"Who are you?" the words come out in a faint breath.
Yondu cracks a smile, as gentle as he can manage. "Captain Yondu Udonta. You?" He leans down again, and repeats the name as it's breathed into his ear. "Kraglin…Obfon…Obfonteri. Well," he says, laying a gentle hand on the boy's bald head, "Yer in good hands, kid."
Kraglin's eye rolls back, and his head falls to one side as the doctor administers a pain med.