The first time Peter escaped from the Nova Corps thanks to Kraglin, he was twenty-three, running for his life, and stupidly (brilliantly?) decided to hide in his own tiny apartment. He ran past Kraglin into their bedroom, while Kraglin had been trying his hand with some strange-looking chocolate thing in the galley. The officers took one look at it and started chattering all at once; who knew chocolate was a Nova Corps’ weakness? Who knew Kraglin’s amazing dessert would get Peter out of a bind?
The first time was coincidence; the second time, a fluke; the third time, a pattern. By the fourth time Peter got into trouble, Kraglin was on a first-name basis with two of the officers, and Peter was tossed in a cell for seven days to “straighten him out”. Not even Kraglin’s desserts saved him. And while he sat in the slam, he started planning how to put his half-brother’s raw talents into actual credits, so he could stop stealing to support them. When he got out, he found that Kraglin had also been planning – but whereas Peter planned on his own, Kraglin had been smart enough to ask those two officers for help.
And before Peter knew what was happening, his fifteen-year-old brother was helping send him to college to learn how to run a business – all thanks to Nova Corpsmen and a scholarship and a few hefty loans that the two officers placed into Kraglin’s care.
Peter stayed angry for a good six weeks, even though he knew his talented, devious little brother had made the right call. Ten years later, Kraglin was happy in his kitchens, Peter’d met a gorgeous woman he was intent on marrying, and they’d repaid all their debts. Galaxy Sweets had settled on a rock called Knowhere, and the two siblings made a policy: that no matter who you were, you were always welcome in their shop. That the shop was a neutral zone; that any upset to the status quo would quickly get you banned from the most delicious, amazing, wonderful treats in the universe. And it worked.
That is, it worked until a certain blue Ravager showed up and decided to steal the heart of the Chef.