"Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder dropped in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences."
- Seventh Doctor "Remembrance of the Daleks"
It all starts out with a body...or at least Yondu Udonta thought it was a body. His navigator had spotted it. Yondu was willing to take chance it had some goods on it. Picks had been a bit slim lately and Yondu wasn't one to turn down an easy score...so how the heck was it still breathing?!
He didn't know that much about humans or other people but he was pretty darn sure that hard vacuum wasn't good for nobody. The man was a bearded fellow wearing a scruffy neck scarf, a fancy vest, beaten up pants, leather knee guards and a beaten up and scratched frost laden leather jacket with a bandolier that had a slim device. The slim device looked in bad shape with it being frost bitten as its owner with a nasty scratch going down its side. Yondu continued looking over the body. He didn't trust his crew to check out the merch. They'd get too greedy and would have sticky fingers to boot. The only one he did trust he'd sent him to get a medpack.
Yondu leaned over to check body's pockets carefully sticking his hand...arm...all the way up to the shoulder.
"Figures we'd score a sorcerer," Yondu muttered as he gently pulled out his arm. Yondu quickly opened the fancy vest taking care not to damage his coat. Who knows what spells were in there?
"Got the medpack Captain," Kraglin shouted as he entered the room.
"Give it," Yondu snapped his fingers. The young boy dropped the medpack into his hand. The boy then aimed a blaster to the sorcerer's head just in case he started something. He then took the pack and slammed it onto sorcerer's chest.
The man gasped and clutched both sides of his chest. He wildly looked around and sputtered as he clearly tried to regain his surroundings. After a while his breath began to slow and he finally noticed both Yondu and Kraglin. He frowned almost looking exasperated. He opened his mouth and muttered something in a musical way.
"Well howdy there," Yondu gave the sorcerer a cold smile. It wasn't enough to intimidate but enough he reckoned to dissuade him from pulling something in them. Well dissuade him more since a gun was aimed at his head.
The man looked decidedly unimpressed and just tired. He opened his mouth and spoke once more with something that sounded vaguely like a question. Odd the translation chip should've picked it up.
"Well it seems that I can't figure you," he said in his faux friendly manner. "Mind speaking in lingo we both know?"
The sorcerer's face took on a more frustrated look. He opened his mouth several times each time coming out with a different sounding language that the chip couldn't get. Finally he switched to Quill's lingo strangely enough.
"Where am I?" The sorcerer asked in snotty accent that he'd heard spoken in upper circles of Earth when he'd done some vague research on it. "Who are you?"
"How's about you start?"
"Me?" The man pointed comically at himself. "Why do I have to go first?"
"My ship, my rules," Yondu growled softly. The man returned the growl with a stoney look. He wasn't going to lie any lesser man aside from Yondu and it would seem Kraglin much to Yondu's pleasure would've backed down and run. It looked like a particularly bad storm he'd seen planetside. Strong, unpredictable and dangerous. Not something you wrestled with or ride with unless you were Yondu, Kraglin or the kid would since they were of tougher stock. They didn't back down. They rode out the storm. The man realized this trait and nodded shortly. One predator to another. He understood the score.
"Would you believe..." his voice trailed off for some reason. He looked down confusedly. He began muttering in the musical language again touching his chest, hands and face looking flummoxed. He then stopped and gave him an honest look of confusion.
"I don't know," he whispered brokenly sounding utterly lost. Yondu didn't even need to question him any further because he could see there'd be no answer the man looked devastated.
"Hey boss," Kraglin said tentatively. "How's about we give him a lift? We're due to be at a port soon."
"What's he gonna do?" Yondu asked Kraglin. So he felt sorry for the guy? How far was he going to go?
"I...I can fix things."
"Got mechanics," Yondu replied looking to the sorcerer. "I ain't much of Captain of a ship especially a pirate ship if I don't get least one."
"Pirates?" The sorcerer looked excited now. "I can steal things!"
"Before or after you keel over?" Yondu snorted looking over the man.
"Rude," he huffed back. "I'll have you know there's plenty of life in this old thing." The man patted his chest. "I assure you I can do so much more. I can pilot, I can hack into safes and this," he gently pulled out the metal tube and pointed at the locked door making the two of them stare at it. He flipped a switch and a buzzing noise emitted from. As he pointed he made adjustments to via a small knob on the side. Finally the side door opened with a rusty clang. "Can open any door I like."
Yondu looked at the Kraglin and shrugged.
"Can't be as bad as Taserface," he huffed. Must be getting soft because of the kid. Still with that said, he'd lay down the law even if the man didn't look like he'd be an issue.
"You follow my orders you hear? Or I'll chuck you out fancy lock picker or no."
"Where would I go aside from space?" The man shrugged. "Sounds fine to me."
"If you got no name what'll we call you?" Kraglin asked.
"I'll figure something out..."
"Reckon you will," Yondu agreed. "Rest up. We're getting to port. Maybe you'll find something that suits."
"Well I assure you that it won't be Taserface."
Yondu snorted.
"Names Captain Yondu Udonta and this here is Kraglin Obfonteri." He gestured to Kraglin who gave a short wave. "Welcome aboard."
The Captain smirked as he turned away with his crewmate Kraglin walking behind him leaving him alone. The man looked down as he tried to piece together what had happened before he landed on this ship...or rather dragged on. He...he was going somewhere. Something slammed into his ship. He'd stopped. When he'd opened the door he was attacked. Then he was dragged down somewhere and then dragged into a ship...then he woke up.
"Well that's a bunch of useless rubbish right there," he grumbled. "No description just a vague outline."
"Who are you?" A much younger voice asked. The man turned to see a young boy staring at him with awe and fear from the opened door.
"Good question," he smiled at the child. "I haven't the foggiest."
"You sound English," the boy proclaimed walking forward.
"Do I?" He didn't know what that meant but for some reason that made him think of...A brown haired man with prim mustache contrasting to his slightly fair skin in pristine uniform staring sternly at someone with an unflappable attitude and stalwart manner. A young woman rosy cheeks and fair complexion with brown eyes who was brave and eager to learn. She was a reporter...
"Hey Gramps!" The boy's voice called him out of whatever that was and back into the present. "You okay?"
Grandfather? No he'd called him Gramps.
"I supposes that's my name to you."
"Seriously?"
"Yes I am," the man now christened Gramps said. "Or I could be called something like..." he paused trying to snatch something to call himself by...
No more. Well that's rubbish.
"You call yourself Ben Kenobi or Spock."
"Bah. Sounds clichéd to me."
"Well you think of one!" The boy shouted crossing his arms.
He's got a point. I have to be called something...
"I know!" The boy interrupted his thoughts again with his excited shout. "Splinter!"
"Absolutely not. I'm the Medic." He wasn't sure why he'd chosen that title but it sounded good to him. He liked it. Sure it wasn't a name but it was something that could be called. It was a promise in a way.
"Medic? That's a title not a name."
"Well I like it." The Medic smiled at the young boy. "And that's a fact."
"Cool," the boy smiled at him. "I'm Peter Quill."
"Pleasure to meet you my boy," The Medic returned the smile before stiffly getting off the slab. "Mind giving me a tour of the ship? I'm going to be working here."
"Sure, follow me."
