Disclaimer: I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy
Present
"So that's all that happened when you were both planet side?" Yondu sighs, narrowing his gaze, as he looks ready to strangle the young Starlord. The remaining guardians sit behind their leader as he paces the flight deck of the Milano. Any Ravagers still on the deck besides the navigators remain silent as well.
"Can your Nova lackeys help us or not!?" Yondu's voice is rough and tired. Has been ever since he'd been taken off that planet. If he isn't barking orders at his crew, he's taking his frustration out on the training equipment. Peter continues pacing, running one hand through his hair while his team watches. Finally Rocket stands, pointing a claw at the monitor and baring his teeth as he growls.
"I got a question for ya. Why wait a month to call for help?"
Yondu steps away from the Navigators chair, disappointment etched into his face, eyes suddenly staring into space as his hands burrow deeper into the coat pockets. The
"What kinda captain can't find one of his own men?" His voice grows quieter with every word, the tension quickly thickening. Rocket unconsciously fiddles with his hands as his ears fold, taking his seat while Quill watches his old mentor with concern. He knows a beat man when he sees one.
"The kind of captain that exhausts every other option. Searches sleeplessly for any scrap of good news, never letting go of the hope that you'll find who you're looking for." Peters smile reaches his eyes as he faces the monitor. One hand resting on the Milanos console, voice nothing short of positive as he looks into the eyes of the blue Captain.
"It's a stubborn captain who refuses help until they've hit rock bottom and decide to call on another for support. A captain who can remain strong under a lot of pressure."
Silence falls over both ships as Peter wraps up his little speech, that smile still brightening his face. Yondu rubs his chin and looks ahead, only giving the young man a small smirk. Shaking his head in mock disappointment as he stares at the man he and his crew had risen.
"This is what happens when you let 'em fill your head with sentiment."
"Says the Captain who makes a habit of taking in stray children."
Peter's retort is unexpected, one that makes Yondu pause. The young Starlord takes a minute to laugh before his smile falls, a more serious expression adorning his features.
"I'm sure Dey can help us find any channels that may have picked up your distress signal."
The Centaurian nods with a grunt, turning on his heel and walking to the door. He can't help thinking about how he'd failed his most trusted crewmember, and could potentially fail his entire crew. Yondu may be a man of tough punishment, fair 'trials', and strong resolve, but if there's one thing he can't allow, it's letting those who look to him as Captain be killed or failed due to his incompetence.
"Yondu... I promise we'll bring him home."
Silence fills the cockpit of the Eclector.
The last thing Peter sees is his former Captain stopping in the doorway, only giving a wave of his hand before the screen goes blank. He takes a deep breath, leaning on the Milanos console before turning to face his crew, he throws his hands together in a loud clap, replacing the serious look with one of positivity.
"Alright, let's get to work guys."
No one approaches or speaks as they watch their Captain traverse the long halls of the Elector. Yondu walks down the hall, a scowl on his face and a pain in his heart. He pulls out a small device; paying no attention to the eyes following him, he only listens to the groans of the ship, feeling coolness in the air.
With a flick of the switch it powers up, a large list of languages appearing before him. Yondu resumes his search, listening to the different languages and accents that slip through the speakers. Within ten minutes, he finds himself entering an all too familiar room.
"ar eich traed!"
Blood drips from the gash on his temple as he pries one eye open. He's still on his stomach. Knees throbbing and chest heavy as he struggles to breathe through the pain in his hip.
"i fyny!"
Boney hands grab his upper arms, pulling him up too quickly, dizziness overwhelming him as he pitches forward, bile turning in his stomach. The concrete below him cracked, many scratch marks covering it as if at one time someone had been clawing at it. Kraglin's eyes droop, mouth hanging open as he stares down at the ground; two of the creatures pulling him out of the room and into the hall; his feet dragging on the concrete.
He cannot lift his head enough to see where they're taking him. Staring at trails of blood, both old and new as they pass, all he can do is try to stay strong. This is hard when a deep headache continues to drill into the center of his forehead, deep bruises forming on his left cheekbone and jaw line.
"W-Where we g-goin'?" The creatures laugh, hearing the slur in his voice as they open the door to a medium sized cage that sits in the center of a large, bare room. Kraglin sees clothing and rags scattered across the floor of the cage along with different colored stains, rust covers the bars and the wheels look as though they're barely supporting it.
"Don't p-put me i-in... There!" He's barely able to raise his voice, so focused on the cage that he doesn't notice the creatures slapping chains onto his wrists. Kraglin feels goose bumps forming from the cold metal as more chains attach to his ankles, his attempts to fight them off met with more laughter as they pull him forward.
"N-No..."
They release his arms, stepping to the side as one takes his position behind him, putting one hand on the wounds littering his back and shoving him into the cage, watching him fall to his side with a weak cry of pain. One of the taller ones slams the door shut, making sure it's locked before making its way to a large metal door.
He hears them unlocking the wheels along with them pulling open the large door that leads to one of the many exits that fill this place. There's a harsh jerk as they push the rusted metal box into the hall, the wheels squeak constantly, sounding as though they'll give out at any second. Kraglin's chains rattle as he's tries to get in a more comfortable position. He groans as they hit holes in the concrete, managing to open his eyes enough to see the crowded cells they're passing.
Some of them filled to the brim with others that have been captured, all waiting for death to meet them before they're sold.
"fyny'r ramp ! ein bod yn hwyr!"
Kraglin ignores the leaders yelling, instead biting his lip as they push the cage up a ramp and he slides into the bars with a painful moan. The wounds on his back pressed against the rusted metal, blood running down them as tears wet his cheeks.
When he finally gathers the strength to open his eyes, the light of the planet is too intense for him to keep them open for long. There's another bump, another groan, a twinge of pain and the cage stops. He can hear crowds of what sound like people; feel the dust that's kicked up from hurried footsteps as he's pulled at by the aliens. His pain is beginning to fade, numbness taking its place as they try to sit him upright. Kraglin looks at the ringleader, body going limp as his eyes roll back.
Dey stands off to the side, staring at the ground as Quill finishes his tale. All he can do is shake his head, taking a pad from the table and flipping through the settings.
"I'll see what I can do and I'll inform Nova Prime of the situation."
Sitting down at the table with a map in hand, Gamora waves at Dey. Drax stays of to the side to sharpen his blades while Rocket tinkers with his weapons. The only two standing are Peter and Groot, both positioned to the right of the table while Dey downloaded information from the area of Yondu's distress signal.
"All right, I have it."
Drax takes his gaze from his current task, fixing it on Dey. "We are appreciative."
"I'll contact you if I find anything."
The ship's doctor leans against the wall, watching his captain down a shot of his homemade painkiller. He remembers making it specifically for the captain when all other medicines seemed useless. It burns Yondu's throat but never fails to do away with his headaches.
"Not sleeping, sir?"
Yondu locks his gaze on the purple-skinned alien, those large yellow eyes full of curiosity and genuine concern. He wears a whitish grey Ravager uniform instead of the usual burgundy, opting for the more traditional color for a doctor's coat while also allowing it to look roughed up.
'He always was softer than most.'
"What do think you, Obdal?" Yondu scoffs, forcing himself to smile as he stares at the ships doctor, knowing of the bags beneath his eyes. The doctor straightens up, his concerned expression changing to one of victory as he stands eye to eye with his captain.
"Time for some proper rest." Obdal smiles, plucking the glass from his captains loosening grip. His free arm wrapping around the older mans waist as he starts to sink to floor. Yondu's eyes pinch shut while he rubs his head, groggily pushing away from the doctor. His attempts are futile, only getting a chuckle from Obdal as he's led to bed.
"You call this helping?" Yondu's voice slurs as the other man deposits him onto an infirmary bed.
"Yes."
He's not sure if the captain hears his response, and he can't help but smile. For the first time in a week, the captain is resting peacefully.
Had to use Google translate, I know it's not accurate, but it's all I have right now.
"ar eich traed" -"On your feet"
"i fyny" - "Up"
"fyny'r ramp ! ein bod yn hwyr" - "Up the ramp! We are late!"