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Jul. 28th, 2022 at 7:02 PM
They, too, were rough sprites. Some had less of a code than others. Though most held honor in their own way, Bob still refused to delete any coded peoples, bug or web creature alike. Oddly enough, it was how steadfast he held this compass that got him on their side even if they disagreed. He didn't change back then and he certainly wasn't going to change now.
Gentle clanking of footfalls rang out through to the bridge where he stood at its threshold. "System's back online, Captain." He doesn't enter until permission's granted, "fried quite a few wires back in that last firefight."
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And that's how history changed. That's how Yondu was out with the Eclector II when the Guardians ran afoul of Thanos. That's how he ended up heartbroken for several years after the snap, helping rebuild the might of the Ravagers alongside the other captains. And that's how he was around for when everyone came back.
He heard about it when apparently a Terran woman mourning her love and her children (he could identify) raised all kinds of temporal hell, took over minds, changed matter to match her daydreams and wants, and in the process revealed how illicit parties wanted to use the body of her AI lover to form their own weaponized person.
Not to mention there was no shortage of robots and androids out in space, and a good many of them a variety of colors that weren't the usual shades of dirt that Terrans came in. The old captain doesn't know for sure where Bob came from, just that Kraglin announced there was new crew and had looked over specs to learn one was an AI.
When Bob approaches the bridge, Yondu's looking out the front windows at a gorgeous stretch of stars and galactic arm, honest to god unsure of where his next stop should be. "Right. None of it looked purposeful?" Yondu, after having dealt with his last crew, is paranoid enough to ask.
He tipped his head, scanned the interior but stayed put at the threshold. "Ran a full scan of the ship's systems. Nothing suspicious was found, just the expected fallout." There was a nano or two before he crossed his arms over his chest, and offered, "looking for trouble? I'm no Mouse, but I can code in some armor if it's got you concerned."
Coding things into matter isn't something he's unfamiliar with. The tech exists, a lotta people use it (Starlord's helmet, Rocket's additional gear, Kree space helmets, the list goes on). Press a button and you got what you need seemingly out of thin air. But Bob's version is real unique, could make some armor that's harder to get past.
Whether it's that he killed a Celestial (a fast track to end up on a pretty awful shitlist) or his former owners placing their bounties, there's a whole stack of people that want a piece of his blue hide despite the change in reputation. "Just gotta have somethin' to last us as far as Contraxia and then we can do a full repair job."
Now, he'll enter. "Our best bet would be to code in something that absorbs energy. Since we've taken some damages, it can help us. I can also take a look at the systems running the ship itself. Make sure no one can get in that way."
When it came to heists, they were his favorite target. A no guilt victim, as it was, as they owed him and many others lifetimes of pain. He took it easy on the civilians but would still leave their colonies with barely the clothes on their backs and enough rations to call for help and that was about it.
He'd at least been talked into being a bit of a philanthropist. It meant there were a few more allies that gave them sanctuary from the Kree. One of those was on Contraxia.
"There are a buncha brothels on Contraxia. Not that you strike me as the type but a good lotta the workers are AIs. Means you got a shit ton of repair shops. You can pick up what ya need to work with there. We probably ain't gonna go nowhere for at least a few days."
He fully expected Bob might light out, too. Head off on another adventure to whatever endgoal he was after. He wouldn't blame him.
"Not for a lack of other people hoping," came with a somewhat amused tone as he stepped further in. No, Bob sure wasn't the type at all. Had eyes for one sprite only and that sprite was in the past. "D'you mind?" He waves to the empty co-pilot seat. "Best to have a direct link to the main console." A nano. "Anyway, I'll need a powerup myself. Fuel myself, fuel the ship, grab some parts--but honestly, you've picked up some decent mechanics who know more about hardware than me."
"Yeah, well, if you can do it I want somethin' strong enough to take on the worst kinda ship. We're talkin' on par with the Dark Aster-" the Behemoth of a Kree warship. Perhaps one that Bob's managed to gather info on. Perhaps not. "'Cause it seems we've gotten in the habit of bitin' off moren' we can chew. But I don't really feel like scalin' down."
And having to rely on allies swooping in at the last minute has become exhausting. He wants to do it himself. Or as by himself as a man and a crew can be.