Chereads / I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover) / Chapter 60 - C60 Captain Marvel?

Chapter 60 - C60 Captain Marvel?

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The quiet hum of the Jedi ship's engines filled the space as it sliced through the star-strewn expanse of the galaxy. Peter sat alone in the cockpit, a contemplative expression in his face. The soft light from the console illuminated his features as he sat cross-legged, headphones clasped over his ears, drowning in the melodies that connected him to a life once lived.

Behind his ship, the repaired vessel that once belonged to Cad Bane trailed at a safe distance. Inside, Groot lay sleeping, his peaceful slumber undisturbed by the silence of space.

Although Peter would have liked to travel on the same ship with Groot, this arrangement was necessary. Groot couldn't stay with him on Coruscant due to the Jedi's strict regulations. That's why he planned to use Cad Bane's old ship to return to Knowhere after he meets with the Jedi Council.

Closing his eyes, Peter let the music from his Walkman envelop him, sinking into a deep meditation that stirred his innermost thoughts.

🚨Play Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash🚨

Love is a burnin' thing

And it makes a fiery ring

Bound by wild desire

I fell into a ring of fire

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire

I went down, down, down

And the flames went higher

And it burns, burns, burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire

..

.

As the ship neared Coruscant, the heart of the Jedi Order, Peter remained in a deep meditation. His mind replayed the recent battle, the vivid memories of the Hutt's demise flooding back in stark detail.

His actions had been dark, fueled by anger and disgust for the Hutt's vile deeds. They were slave owners and oppressors, and Peter's zero tolerance for such beings had driven him to an edge he rarely visited.

As each scene of the Hutt's fearful faces flashed through his mind, a part of him reveled in their terror. It was a dark revelation, one that sparked a troubling question within him. "Am I a sadist?" he whispered to the emptiness around him.

The silence of the ship offered no answers, but as the stars passed by, Peter's introspection deepened. He had embraced a part of himself that found satisfaction in the fear of those he deemed evil. It was a stark contrast to the hero many were beginning to see him as, yet it felt justifiable against such malevolent foes.

Moreover, while he had tapped into the dark side and harnessed its power, he had not allowed it to overwhelm or control him. He was in command, not the darkness. This realization brought a measure of peace to him, a settling of the internal storm that had been brewing since the battle.

Peter acknowledged the darker threads of his personality, accepting that his sadistic tendencies could be directed towards those who deserved it—tyrants like the Hutts, or cruel figures like Yondu and his band of Ravagers. This acceptance didn't come easily, but it was necessary. It was part of who he was, and denying it would be denying a piece of his very essence.

As Coruscant grew larger in the viewport, Peter's meditation drew to a close. He felt a renewed sense of purpose and clarity. He was neither solely a Jedi nor a Sith; he was a flawed man, like any other, who understood the depths of darkness yet chose to wield it against those who deserved it.

Removing his headphones, Peter stood and stretched, feeling his stiff joints crack from the long, sedentary journey. He glanced back towards Groot's ship, making sure it was still there.

With a resolute nod to himself, Peter prepared for his arrival. The Jedi Temple awaited, and with it, his Knighthood.

————

Meanwhile, whispers of an unprecedented upheaval began to ripple across the galaxy, spreading from its core to the farthest reaches. The news wasn't just of a battle but of a seismic shift in power and hope. The story of Knowhere, and its enigmatic defender known as Star-Lord, was spreading like wildfire.

In the crowded, smoky bars of Tatooine, where the gritty and downtrodden gathered, the tale took on a life of its own. A grizzled old spacer, his face weathered from years under the hot sun, held a captive audience around a flickering table.

"They say that fella, Star-Lord, he ain't just another outlaw," he began, his voice a low drawl, eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and respect. "Took over Knowhere, he did. And when those Hutts came knockin' not once but twice with their war fleets, he blew 'em out the sky and killed 'em all."

The listeners leaned in, their drinks forgotten, as the old man wove tales of the dual invasions, highlighting the stark inferiority of the Hutt forces compared to Knowhere's defenses.

"Whole fleets of Hutt ships, blasted to smithereens!" he exclaimed, slamming his hand down for emphasis, causing glasses to rattle. "Makes ya think twice 'bout crossing Star-Lord, it does."

Elsewhere, far from the desert world, in the gleaming corridors of Coruscant, the news had a different flavor. Diplomats and politicians whispered in hushed tones about Knowhere, a place many of them had never even known existed until now.

In a sleek, high-rise office, a group of Republic officials convened in an urgent meeting. "This Star-Lord's actions could destabilize the entire sector," one worried senator pointed out, his brow furrowed as he paced before a large, panoramic window overlooking the cityscape.

"Or," another countered, "he could be a strategic asset in fighting the Hutt's influence, freeing us from their exorbitant protection fees..."

The woman beside him scoffed, "Let's just call it what it really is—extortion." As her words hung in the air, the others around the room nodded in agreement, their faces etched with sour expressions.

"We must consider recognizing Knowhere's autonomy if this continues. It could serve our interests," suggested a fourth, his voice steady and calculating.

Back on the fringes, on planets like Ryloth, which has endured greater suffering than most due to the Hutts, the news stirred a different kind of discussion—hope.

Ryloth's valuable spice Ryll, strategic location, and Twi'lek population, whom the Hutts notoriously enslaved and sold, made it a prime target.

In dimly lit basements and hidden meeting places, those who had long suffered under Hutt's tyranny saw a glimmer of a new opportunity.

A Twi'lek freedom fighter, her lekku wrapped tightly for battle, addressed her fellow rebels with renewed vigor. "If Knowhere can stand up to the Hutts and offer sanctuary, then it is our duty to help spread the word. This Star-Lord has opened a door. We must ensure it stays open."

Nods of agreement echoed around the room, the energy palpable as plans began to form—not just for escape, but for a potential new beginning, in a place far from Hutt control.

And on Knowhere itself, the transformation was tangible. Streams of ships from all corners of the Outer Rim began to arrive, each carrying those seeking refuge from oppression. The station, once just another lawless outpost, was quickly becoming a thriving city, each new arrival eager to contribute to this fledgling society.

Aboard one of the ships, a young girl looked out the window as Knowhere came into view, her eyes wide with wonder and relief. "Mama, is it really safe there?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper against the hum of the engine.

Her mother, weary yet smiling, nodded as she wrapped an arm around her daughter. "Yes, my love. This place, it's where we start over. Where we can be free."

As the galaxy churned with tales of valor and sanctuary, the legend of Star-Lord and his impregnable haven grew, sowing seeds of freedom and revolution that would soon sprout across the stars.

————

Across the Galaxy, the streets of Hala teemed with citizens in revolt, as the winds of change carried whispers of rebellion and defiance against the Supreme Intelligence that had long governed with an unyielding grip.

Energized by a shared desire for liberation, and an end to the losing war they've been forced into, the people of Hala were now marching on the capital, determined to overthrow the government and dismantle the Supreme Intelligence that had dictated their lives for too long.

At the heart of this uprising stood the enigmatic Darth Sidious, his presence a mere shadow among the members of the House of Fiyero. Unlike his usual commanding aura, here he moved with calculated discretion, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation beneath his hood.

The air was thick with tension as Sidious, accompanied by his formidable apprentice, Darth Maul, broke off from the group and approached the central citadel where the Supreme Intelligence resided. This massive structure, a labyrinth of wires and lights, pulsed with the life force of the Kree's ruling entity.

Sidious felt a surge of power course through him as they neared their target, the culmination of his carefully laid plans drawing near.

Inside the citadel, the Supreme Intelligence awaited, its myriad of screens flickering with data and images of the chaos unfolding across its world.

As Sidious and Maul entered its sanctum, the entity's voice echoed through the chamber, resonant and cold. "You seek to dismantle that which safeguards our people. Why betray your own kind?"

Sidious's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Betrayal implies loyalty, but I have never been loyal, particularly as I am not Kree. My allegiance is solely to myself," he replied smoothly, his voice a chilling whisper in the vast, cold space.

Instantly, a moment of realization dawned as the Supreme Intelligence detected the distinct energy signatures of the Force, specifically those of the dark side.

"Sith..." the artificial intelligence muttered, its voice tinged with a hint of disdain.

Sidious's lips twisted into a sinister smirk. "I see, even the mighty Supreme Intelligence hasn't forgotten my kind..."

Aware of the peril it faced, the Supreme Intelligence opted to negotiate. "What is it that you desire? Power? Control? Perhaps we could broker a deal—"

"A deal?" Sidious interrupted, his voice laced with mockery. "I'm afraid negotiation is not my purpose here..."

With a swift movement, Sidious raised his hands, the air around him crackling with the buildup of dark energy. Maul stepped back, his own dual-bladed lightsaber at the ready, watching as his master prepared to unleash his fury.

The Supreme Intelligence, realizing the futility of further negotiation, attempted to activate its defense mechanisms. But it was too late. With a fierce cry, Sidious unleashed torrents of Sith lightning, the blue arcs of deadly energy cascading toward the core of the artificial intelligence.

The chamber lit up with blinding light as the Supreme Intelligence screeched, its circuits frying and sizzling under the assault.

The screens around them flickered and died, one by one, as the life force of the Kree's ruler was extinguished. The sound of the entity's demise echoed hauntingly through the citadel.

As the light from the lightning faded, Sidious turned to Maul, his face a mask of dark satisfaction. "The Supreme Intelligence is no more. Spread the word to our 'allies' in the house of Fiyero."

Outside, the members of the House of Fiyero would seen find themselves as leaders in a new regime, one forged in the darkness of Sith ambition. They had sought change and power, but at what cost?

..

.

Darth Sidious stood among the citadel's ruins, his scheme a resounding success. Although not yet the leader of the House of Fiyero, his ascension was inevitable. His glowing yellow eyes fixated on the horizon, anticipating his next conquest.

Just as he prepared to depart, his sharp senses picked up a faint yet potent life force. Intrigued, he followed the signal to a hidden chamber deep within the citadel's depths.

There, encased in a transparent pod, was a woman with blonde hair, her features serene yet formidable even in stasis. Wires and cables connected her to the pod, weaving into a complex network that linked directly to the now-dead core of the Supreme Intelligence.

[Insert picture of Captain Marvel here]

Sidious leaned closer, an intrigued expression spreading across his face as he sensed the power emanating from her in waves. "What do we have here..." he murmured, his interest clearly piqued.

A/N: 2081 words :)

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