It took a couple of hours, a few wrong turns, several cramps, and bruised knees, but Peter finally found the hangar. His sneaking space was coming to an end, the grate stopping shot of the large open room and the cables turning sharply into the ceiling. He crept as far as he could and cautiously stuck his head out.

There was no one around. Everyone was looking for him back in the living quarters. They probably didn't think he could make it this far undetected.

Carefully he swung his legs out and lowered himself as far as he could before dropping down. He landed on his feet and crept forward into the hangar, his head whipping back and forth in search of any aliens that might be lurking around. Almost instantly his caution was abandoned.

This place was huge, with dozens of the large, brightly painted spaceships. The shape of them made Peter think a little bit of moths. They were sleek and... and... awesome; couldn't be more different from their dark surroundings.

Now how did he get into one?

He ducked under the wing of the nearest ship and touched its side with the same respect he would touch a horse back home.

It was cool against his fingers, and almost frictionless. It was also locked into some kind of mooring from underneath, and no matter the bits he pushed and pulled, he couldn't get it to open.

There was a hollow *clunk* from nearby that was followed by a cry of, "Dammit! Get back here!"

The rattling got closer, so Peter ducked behind the ship just as a metal canister covered in alien writing rolled past. A good thing too... as it was followed by a large man in an old leather jacket.

Peter dared to peek from his hiding spot to see who the figure was. He didn't recognize this alien from the other day. From this angle, it didn't look like an alien at all; just a big, greasy guy with long hair and bad skin. Then he picked up his canister, and turned around.

Peter had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep himself from crying out. Half the guy's face was metal, with a bulbous robot eye swivelling creepily around in its socket.

The guy, now forever nicknamed Eyegore, paused as though he heard Peter's aborted scream.

Peter held his breath.

After a beat, Eyegore shook himself and walked back to whatever it was he'd been doing, unaware of the child that was now stalking him.

Peter figured he was some sort of mechanic. The boy knew what a work station was, and though all of those tools were strange to him, they still looked like tools.

More importantly, the ship Eyegore was working on was opened up at the back!

Now Peter just had to figure out how to sneak around the creepy cyborg and get inside. He thought of throwing one of his batteries to distract Eyegore, but while he was trying to dig one from his bag without making too much noise, the problem solved itself in the form of Pencil Neck.

Peter barely got out of sight before the thin man and some of his buddies stormed through the hangar.

"I'm almost done," said Eyegore. His voice was surprisingly soft and tinged with fear.

Pencil Neck stopped and looked from the ship back to the mechanic. "You seen the Terran down here."

"I don't even know what it looks like. Is it loose?" He shifted nervously and Peter couldn't help a small smile. That big, freaky guy was scared of him?

The scaly blue guy, Hess, eagerly said, "Kraglin let it out."

"I didn't let it out," Pencil Neck snarled at the little blue guy. He turned back to Eyegore. "It looks like a Xandarian kid. I just need to know if it came down here."

"No. I'm sorry. It's only been me." Eyegore watched his compatriots moan and added, "I'm surprised Yondu hasn't tracked it down yet."

Pencil Neck stiffened. "Yondu don't know. And he ain't gonna know till I find it."

"That's a terrible idea," said Eyegore. He shook his head at the others and tried to go back to his work. "What if it gets stuck somewhere and starves, or crawls into a power core?"

"Yondu'll kill us," Hess supplied. The other aliens made noises of agreement.

All except the other scaly blue creature in the group (Bluey 2?). This one was taller and manlier, and had white... hair-like stuff on top of its head. He said, "It's alright. He'll only kill Kraglin."

The aliens agreed with this even more. Pencil Neck went pale and weakly said, "You all need to shut up."

Eyegore sighed and put down his tools down. "Why would he do that?"

"He's been real weird about this kid," Pencil Neck said gravely. "I wasn't even supposed to go in the room."

Eyegore hummed. "He won't kill anyone... probably... he might if you try to hide this from him... which you have..." He sighed again. "Come on then. Let's go tell him."

"What? Wait!" Pencil Neck tried and failed to wrench his arm out of the cyborg's guiding grasp.

As the group moved away Eyegore said, "I don't think he'll kill his First Mate."

"He killed the last one," said Bluey 2 with a little too much glee.

"Yes, but that man was terrible."

The rest of their conversation faded as they went into the hall.

Peter nearly whooped with joy once he was alone. They left the Spaceship wide open.

The forest floor was soft with ferns and moss, the air heavy with the odour of leaves and bracken and the smoke from a nearby fire; a good place to lay and take in the night. He could faintly hear his people singing and dancing, but he was far enough away that he could also hear the trees in the wind, and the movements of animals going about their rituals.

He felt it all: plants, trees, animals, people. A delicate pulse of life and death.

Above him, through a break in the canopy, he could see the stars and the twin moons. They were as they had been for millions of years; cycles unbroken by time.

It was familiar... comforting...

Yondu jolted and it all fell away. The forest was replaced with claustrophobic metal, the distant singing with the trill of a com-screen, and his peace with a throbbing pain behind his eyes. For a moment he could only lay there, overwhelmed by the loss.

He took a deep breath and forced it violently from his lungs before sitting up and punching the com. "I was having a good dream, dammit!"

Kraglin was on the other end, his face drawn and pale. "Oh shit," he said. "Um... I'll come back later."

Come back? Yondu stretched his senses beyond his room, and sure enough, Kraglin, Trelzar, and a bunch of others were all standing outside his door. They were giving off an air of excitement and dread that worried him. "No," he growled. "You woke me up, you deal with it." He looked down at himself. He was in nothing but his underwear. "I'm getting some pants on. Your little pity party better be gone by the time I open that door." He waved the screen away.

He stood and got a clean pair of pants from his drawers, taking his time as he put them on. He could feel Kraglin's fear go up as everyone else ditched him.

Yondu snorted as he pulled on a black undershirt. What did the Xandarian do now?

Finally he opened the door to Kraglin, who was standing at his full hight and trying not to look scared for his life. Never mind that he still had food in his hair and on his clothes. He took in Yondu's hunched shoulders and wide, harried eyes, and gulped.

"Well?" said Yondu. His voice was calm despite his appearance.

"Kid's loose," Kraglin answered stiffly.

Yondu blinked. "Come again?"

"The Terran." He paused to swallow. His throat was suddenly very dry. "He got loose."

Yondu, instead of flying into a rage as expected, relaxed. "He did? How the hell'd he do that?"

Looking anywhere but at his Captain, Kraglin said, "Well... uh... I figured since you were... out of it, someone should give the kid food and water, only there were these things all over the floor in his room." He dug in his pickets, pulled out one of the dead batteries, and handed it to Yondu. "I sorta... slipped on 'em and that damn Terran just... ran out the door."

Yondu stared at the little energy cell as he turned it over in his hand.

When he didn't say anything, Kraglin continued. "I didn't want to bother you 'bout it, so I tried to find him. Got half the crew on it even, but... It's like he's vanished."

Despite how miserable he felt, Yondu chuckled. So the kid did it. "Alright. I got this." His eyes flicked to his First Mate, who was now flooding with relief. He had half a mind to chew the man out, but this was mostly his fault, and Kraglin was only trying to help, like always. Instead he said, "Get yourself cleaned up." He closed the door in the man's face and retreated back into his room.

It bothered him sometimes how his crew acted like he went around murdering everyone every time they screwed up. If he did that, he wouldn't have anyone left.

He went into his personal bathroom and chugged a glass of water with a headache pill.

His hangover fading, he sank into one of his chairs and returned to staring at the battery. He should be pissed about this whole situation, but it was mixed with a tinge of pride. The trap Quill had set was simple, sure, but it worked, and somehow he had managed to give half a crew of pirates the slip in a completely unfamiliar environment. This was a child; he wasn't even an adolescent yet.

The thing that got Yondu most though, was that he listened. He took what Yondu said to heart and didn't wast any time.

The Centaurian was a very tiny bit tempted to let him get away, but that wasn't possible. That dream... even if he could never have that back, at least he'd found a chance to find a piece of it, and as much as he liked the kid, sentiment had torn him down too many times already.

He could do this.

He put on a proper shirt and his jacket and headed out into the halls.

The crew knew he could track like no one else, but he took care that they didn't know how he did it. He had learned that lesson long ago and bore the scars to prove it.

They also didn't know that his abilities were all but crippled out here. Sure, he could get a bead on folks, but the higher the life-form, the harder it got. On a ship with no natural flora or fauna and nothing but advanced, space-faring people, it was the equivalent of being partially blind.

So it was strange that he could sense the kid as well as he could; almost like he was following a beacon. Then again, being in the father's presence had nearly overwhelmed his senses. More evidence that Peter Quill was much more then he appeared to be.

Yondu found himself in the hangar, standing in front of his own ship.

No. Freaking. Way...

Quill was in there! Not only did he escape his room, but he actually managed to board a getaway vehicle completely undetected? Yondu was pretty sure none of his boys could pull that off.

Trelzar was puttering nearby, so he loudly said, "You see the Terran down here?"

The mechanic jumped and looked up. "Kraglin asked the same thing." At Yondu's blank stare, he added, "Ah... no. No Terrans here, Captain."

Yondu grinned. "Good. You'll keep an eye out, right?"

"But Yondu..."

He put a finger to his lips and Trelzar, taking the hint, stopped talking.

Yondu pointed two fingers at his eyes, pointed a thumb at his ship, and then made a fist with the same hand.

Trelzar's brow rose in surprise, but he raised his voice and said, "Yes. Of course I will, but I doubt he'll get all the way down here."

Yondu could feel relief from the boy. He nodded to his mechanic and clomped away, then silently doubled around and stepped through the hatch. He gestured for Trelzar to close it behind him, and once he was sure it was locked, he stalked through his ship towards the cockpit where he sensed the frustrated intruder.

He climbed partway up the port, just enough that he could peek over the edge into the room. There was Quill, back turned as he tried to pull on the control levers of Yondu's chair.

Yondu winced as one of his bobbles fell off the console, but it bounced unharmed across the floor so he let it slide. He slowly climbed the rest of the way without making a sound, his eyes never leaving the kid as he stood straight.

Oblivious little Quill continued his tugging as he muttered, "C'mon... stupid thing. Move already."

With a straight face, Yondu said, "It's locked out 'cause it's in dock."

It was hard work not to laugh when Quill whipped around, his mouth open in comic horror.

Yondu went on as if he didn't just scare the shit out of a kid. "A good thing too as you woulda rammed my ship through a wall... into space... with the hatch open..." He frowned while his eyes sparked with amusement. "You didn't think this through. Did you?"

Quill did that thing again where he turned his fear into defiance. He stood his ground, his feet wide set and his face scrunched into an adorable scowl. "It ain't my fault I never flown a spaceship before! I woulda figured it out!"

And the chilly creep of the heebie-jeebies invaded Yondu's veins. The Centaurian once said those words... those exact words in broken Xandarian a lifetime ago. The boy in front of him was no longer Peter Quill the Pucky Terran. He was a ghost from back when there were shits to give and a shred of hope to cling to; a version of himself he had long given up for dead.

This wasn't funny anymore.