Devero smiles at him, a little crooked and a little shy, when he sees Yondu nod, and squeezes the hand he's caught. The smile then fades a little and he looks away, but he nods himself. "Yeah," he says softly, "I can see why."

He lapses into silence for a moment, but continues before it can stretch very long. "My sense of scale about the severity of... certain things... doesn't really match anyone else's here," he says.

"Do you know, where I come from I'm... a lot of civilians would probably tell you I'm dangerous to be around? Because of my service record--" He has to pause, because this number that once felt like a heavy burden seems almost insignificant here. He actually laughs, though the sound is brief and humorless. "I have eight kills on my service record. All eight judged without recourse-- all eight, clean. But there are people who think combat vets with a record like that ought to be, I don't know, confined or medicated or directly monitored for the rest of their lives or something, because you can't trust a person who's killed so many people."