Peter was on his way to the bathroom when he heard the screaming. What now? he wondered. He didn't have to wait long; a moment later, the Kraglin-shaped blur flew past him and hid behind the washing machine.

"Guys," he said, gearing up for another lecture about getting along.

"Where is he?" Drax demanded. The yaka arrow was dangling from his shoulder.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Again? C'mon, guys. Kraglin, get out here."

Kraglin reluctantly crawled out from behind the washer. "It wuz an accident, Pete! I didn't mean ta-"

Drax yanked the arrow from his shoulder and handed it over. "Keep your instrument of death," he said, "out of my flesh!"

"Drax." Peter waved him off. "Kraglin, you know the rule. You can practice with that in the empty cargo bay, with the door closed. You forget again?"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"You know what, you guys sort this out. I gotta take a shower."

"Guys," Rocket's voice came over the com, "we got a ship approaching. M-ship, Ravager colors."

"Shower can wait," Peter said, and hurried up to the bridge. The other two, their quarrel momentarily forgotten, followed.

They stared at the painted warbird on the view screen.

"Yep," said Kraglin. "That's one o' ours, aright."

"You don't suppose . . ." Rocket began.

The others stared at him expectantly.

"I mean, ya don't think there's a chance that Taserface survived, do ya?"

"If it's him," Kraglin said, "an' I don't think it could be, but if it is, blast his slimy hide to pieces."

Peter gave him a look which shut him up pretty quick. "Anyone tried hailing it?"

Gamora nodded. "We've tried three separate frequencies. No response."

"Which three?" Kraglin settled into the seat beside her. "Well, n' wonder. Try Channel 12. That's th' one we used f'r ship-to-ship."

Gamora switched over to the indicated frequency. "Unknown ship, this is the Quadrant. Please identify."

It was a moment before the voice came over the speaker. "Well, what in the universe happened to the rest of the ship?"

Peter stared at the screen in shock. "Doc?"

"I leave for two weeks for a conference and you lose the rest of the ship?"

"It's kind of a long story," said Kraglin.

"Let me talk to the captain."

There was a moment of silence. "Yeah," Peter said, "about that . . ."

When he spoke again, Corfla's tone was sorrowful. "Oh, Peter. Oh, boys. I am so sorry. How did it happen?"

"Come aboard and we'll talk. Hangar Three, berth twenty-nine is cleared for you. We'll have a drink in Yondu's memory."

"It was a real nice funeral," Kraglin interjected. "We recorded it, if ya wanna watch."

"I think I will do that. See you in a few minutes."

"Thanks for not bein' Taserface!" Rocket quipped.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"What?"

"Good to see my Medical Bay survived intact," Corfla said when they settled in a short while later. "What was it, an attack?"

"Mutiny," Kraglin explained. He told the medic all about how Taserface, with Nebula's help, had seized control of the ship, incapacitated Yondu, and then thrown everyone still loyal to him out the airlock. "I pr'tended t' go along with him, so 'e wouldn't kill me. I still feel bad 'bout that."

"You were biding your time," Corfla reassured him. "Because you did, you were there when the captain needed you. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"See, I told you," said Peter.

Rocket came in, carrying a bottle almost as big as he was. "Found it! Say what ya want 'bout the big blue bastard, least 'e had good taste in booze. If this is the real stuff."

"Oh, it's real," said Kraglin. "We stole it fr'm the one distill'ry in the galaxy that makes this stuff. Cap'n was savin' it fer . . . well, a special occasion. Guess this'll do."

He poured the liquor into four shot glasses-the stuff was so potent that you couldn't drink more than an ounce at a time-and passed them around. "Cap'n Yondu was real good to me. He bought me up outta slavery an' always treated me like 'is own, even when I didn't deserve it. He made me th' youngest First Mate in Ravager hist'ry, when I was fifteen. I owe him evr'thin'."

"He always loved you boys," said Corfla, "even if he didn't show it. He would have died for you."

"He did die for me," Peter reminded him. "Funny: I met my real dad, and he turned out to be a colossal dick. Yondu was the one who taught me everything, who held me when I cried for my momma, who kicked my ass when I needed it . . . who basically gave a shit about me. Ego was just the guy who knocked up my mom."

"I wish I'd had two space suits," Rocket said sadly.

Corfla raised his glass. "To Yondu Udonta," he proclaimed.

Peter raised his. "To my dad."

"To our dad," Kraglin said, beaming.

"May he spend his afterlife kicking ass!" said Rocket.

They threw back the potent liquor all at the same time, and then sat back to wait for it to take effect. It didn't take long. Kree firewhisky hit like a freight train, even in small doses. Unless they planned on getting good and hammered, this would be their only drink of the stuff tonight.

"Uh . . . excuse me?" said a small, tentative voice.

Peter turned-slowly; he didn't want to fall out of his chair. "Oh, hey, Mantis. What's up?"

The telepath stepped through the door. "I felt . . . sadness . . . and I traced it here. Is there something I can help with?"

"We're just talking about Yondu. You can join us if you like. Doc, d'you still have that fruit juice you used to keep in here when I was a kid? I think maybe we should stick to that for the rest of the night, 'less we wanna crawl to bed."

Rocket pulled over another chair.

"Thank you," Mantis said, and sat down.

"Hey," Peter said. "I just thought of something. Are you . . . are you missing Ego? Cause, y'know, he and I had our differences, but he was kinda your dad too. So it's okay if you miss him. I won't be mad."

"I do," she said. "I can see now that he was not . . . not a nice person."

"Yeah, that's puttin' it mildly," said Rocket. Peter gave him a warning look, and he shut up.

They sat and drank the juice for a while, talking about those they had left behind, and suddenly it was so late at night that it was practically morning already.

"We should get to bed," Peter suggested, but then the comm. crackled to life.

"Peter," said Gamora, "we're getting a distress call from Planet Seghai. It's only a few hours away at maximum speed. Should we answer them?"

"What's up?" he asked. "Skrull attack? Natural disaster?"

"No, very unnatural. It sounds like the wave of energy from Ego's device caused massive destruction on the planet's surface."

Peter's face was grave. "Then it's our responsibility. Inform them that we're on the way."

"Thank Zork you're here!" said a middle-aged Seghaian whom Peter assumed to be the local authority. "We've managed to locate all the survivors, but there are still unrecovered bodies in the rubble. If you could help . . ."

"Say no more," Peter told him. "Where would you like us to bring them when we find them?"

"The large tent over there," he said, pointing, "is our temporary morgue. The one next to it is the field hospital. We still have many wounded who have yet to be treated. Our surviving medical staff are overwhelmed."

"I have brought as much with me as I could," Corfla said, hefting his bag. "Lead the way."

Most of the bodies were intact, but not all. Having to bag random body parts, Peter thought, was not something he ever wanted to do again. Particularly when so many of the parts in question were so small.

"These people didn't do nothin'," Rocket said quietly. "They don't deserve this."

"I did this," Peter murmured. "I caused all this destruction."

He felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned to see Drax standing by him.

"You are not to blame, Quill," he said. "Ego forced you to power his machines. It is his fault that all this happened, not yours."

"I never should have trusted him!"

"We can't change the past," said Corfla. "All we can do is move forward and try to make things right. Helping these people to bury their dead may be all we can do for now."

"I know now," said Kraglin, "why he turned the ship around."

They all looked at him.

"After we picked up Peter, Cap'n gave us the coordinates to bring 'im to. Then he got a call, and he was gone for a long time. He came out and tol' me to turn around an' head for Knowhere. Never said why. Now I know."

Peter looked around. "Still a lot of work to do, folks. Let's get to it."

It took most of that day to finish the recovery efforts. Most of the damage seemed to be contained to a ten-block radius downtown, but as those ten blocks contained a shopping mall, a day care center, and an assisted living complex, the casualties were high. Finally, exhausted, they returned to the ship just before midnight local time, but none of them could get any sleep.

The next day was worse, if that was even possible. The recovered bodies had to be prepared for burial, and the parts identified and separated out, which was the hard part.

"These are children!" Gamora cried in anguish. "It is not right that children should end their lives like this!"

"At least the parents of these children will know what happened to them," said Peter. "My grandparents never found out where I went or that I was even still alive. I don't know if they're still alive."

"One way t' find out," said Kraglin. "Terra ain't so far away. Go look for 'em."

"I couldn't do that! It's been too long . . ."

"Then stop complainin'! Go or don't go, it's up t' you, but if yer gonna do a thing, do it! Don't talk it to death!"

"I am Groot!" Groot agreed. This surprised Peter because lately Groot hadn't agreed with anyone on anything. The tree-creature had reached the adolescence phase of his regrowth, and if Peter had been half as surly or sarcastic in his youth, it was a wonder that he had made it to adulthood.

"Yeah, what he said."

"Okay," Peter finally capitulated. "If I'm ever in the vicinity of Earth, I'll drop in and see the old homestead. Just to see what happened to everyone. But I don't expect to be anywhere near the place anytime soon. There's not a lot happening in that sector of the galaxy. I mean, Earth people are cool and all that, but they don't even have space flight yet. Not long-distance flights, anyway. We've been to the Moon a few times."

"Which moon?" asked Drax.

"Earth only has one moon."

"That must be boring. Does it at least have multicolored rings?"

"Nope. Just dull, old grey rock."

"Why would your people go there, then?"

"Just to prove that we could, I guess. I don't know. It happened before I was born."

On the final day that the Guardians were on Seghai, a memorial service was held for all the victims. Thousands of people were in attendance, the Guardians among them. Mantis had joined them after spending days in a sleep-like stasis, overwhelmed by the grief and pain she could feel from the planet's inhabitants.

"Glad you could make it," Peter said sincerely.

"I am sorry I could not help you, but-"

"No need to explain. It's been hard for us, too. But it's getting better."

The names of the victims were read out, one by one. It took quite a while. There was absolute silence until the person (Mayor? President? Civic leader? Priest?) had finished, and then the Seghaians chanted something that sounded like a prayer. Peter's translator couldn't follow it; it sounded like gibberish to him, but he bowed his head and looked solemn the whole time.

And then it was over, and the Guardians were boarding their ship to race off to the next emergency.

"Thank you for all your help," said the man who had greeted them on their arrival.

"Wish we could stay," said Peter, "but you're not the only ones who've suffered because of this . . . event. Come on, Doc."

But Corfla stood his ground. "I'm not leaving, Peter. These people need me right now. I always said I will go where I'm needed, and right now, that place is here."

"Are you sure?"

"Maybe you and I will see each other again one day. I hope you'll keep in touch."

"I will. I promise."

"I'm stayin', too," said Kraglin. "Waitin' fer my ride."

"Ride?"

"Stakar's offered me a place on his ship. Startin' at the bottom, but-"

"But you'll be back on top in no time."

Kraglin smiled. "I ain't no hero, Pete. I'm a Ravager. And hey, maybe I'll meet that Nebula chick again. I liked her."

"Behave yourself around her," Gamora warned him.

"Or what? You'll kick my ass?"

"No. She'll kick your ass. She is not the fighter I am, but she could beat you without breaking a sweat."

"I'll 'member that. See ya, Green Genes."

"Never call me that."

"Do not forget," Drax said, holding out the arrow, "your instrument of death."

Kraglin looked at it, then at Peter. "Ya sure ya don't want it? Keep it to 'member 'im by?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. You keep practicing, bro. You'll get it soon enough."

"Aw, hell, c'mere." He reached out, and the two connected in a brief but meaningful hug.

"I am Groot!" Groot turned away before anyone could see moisture running down his face. Rocket put a hand on his arm, which was higher than it was just yesterday. Kid would be full-size in less than a week at this rate.

"C'mon, Groot, let's get this bird airborne."

It took less than ten minutes to complete the pre-flight checks. It would have taken five in the Milano, but the Quadrant was bigger and had more moving parts. Once they were all aboard and ready to go Gamora asked him, "So where are we going?"

Peter honestly didn't know. "Find someone who needs help, and go help them, I guess."

"Gimme a heading!" Rocket grumbled.

Peter looked out the viewport and pointed. "That way," he said. "That way looks nice."

"That way it is, then."

And they were off. Off to find adventure. Off to help those in need. Off to hopefully get themselves a better ship - the Quadrant was okay for the short-term, but it wasn't really meant to be used for the long haul.

Whatever was out there, whatever waited for them, Peter knew they could handle it. They were the Guardians of the Galaxy, the biggest badasses around.

Well, not really. They were a green assassin, a literal-minded mound of muscle, an insectoid empath, a talking raccoon and a walking tree. And him. The frail, fragile human kid from a backwater planet who got abducted by aliens and wound up having the time of his life.

If he never saw Earth again, it wouldn't be so bad. He had everything he needed right here.