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As the Atlas hovered over the bustling yet dusty streets of Mos Espa, the crew gathered on the bridge, exchanging puzzled looks. The imposing warship cast a massive shadow across the desert town, and the uneasy buzz of the city below reached them even from this height.
Rocket crossed his arms, his tone laced with sarcasm. "We passed at least ten more interesting places on the way here. Why this sandy wasteland?"
Tony leaned casually against a control console, a smirk on his face. "Is this what intergalactic adventures are supposed to look like? Because I've got to tell you, I had higher hopes than this..."
Peter stood at the front of the bridge, staring out at the planet below with his arms crossed. "I'm looking for something," he said vaguely, not bothering to elaborate. "Once I find it, we're out of here."
Rocket scoffed. "Vague and mysterious. That's not worrying at all."
Peter ignored the comment, though inwardly, his thoughts churned. His connection to the Force had drawn him here—he could feel it, like a tug at the edge of his consciousness. It was more than just a hunch; it was almost certain.
Somewhere on Tatooine, buried deep beneath the sands, was one of his father's seeds. He could feel it pulsing faintly through the Force, the same dark energy he'd felt back on Earth. If he could find it, if he could absorb it…
His grip tightened briefly. That wasn't his only reason for stopping here, though.
Peter knew that somewhere on this planet was the boy who would one day become Darth Vader…
Anakin Skywalker—a child with boundless potential and a tragic fate. Peter's mind spun with possibilities. Should he intervene, mentor him, or simply relocate Anakin and his mother to a place where they could live peacefully, away from the galaxy's endless conflicts?
He exhaled quietly. Leaving the boy here, trapped in slavery, seemed like a recipe for disaster. But what would changing Anakin's destiny mean for the galaxy?
Peter wasn't sure yet.
Turning to the others, Peter made a decision. "We're splitting up. I need to go alone."
Mikaela folded her arms stubbornly. "Alone? No way."
Natasha nodded in agreement, her eyes sharp. "You're not going off on your own without backup."
Peter smiled gently but shook his head. "I've got this. Trust me. Just… explore the city. This might be one of the more boring planets, but it's still an alien world. Rocket can show you around. Just make sure you bring weapons and stay alert, so you don't end up lost or sold into slavery while I'm away."
Rocket's eyebrow raised. "Oh, yeah. Because if there's anything I'm known for, it's thriving in dry, lawless backwaters."
Peter grinned at him. "Consider it an order from your Captain."
Mikaela and Natasha exchanged annoyed glances but finally relented. "Fine," Mikaela huffed. "But if you get into trouble—"
"I won't," Peter interrupted with a smirk. "Promise."
Tony stepped up. "Well, if we're sightseeing, let's hope there's at least one decent bar. I'm gonna need something strong to survive this."
Groot gave a short nod in agreement. "I am Groot."
With the plan set, Peter led them to the hangar, where the crew split off into two groups. Peter prepped one of the smaller ships docked inside the Atlas, its engines humming as it powered up.
Natasha, Mikaela, Tony, Rocket, and Groot made their way to another shuttle. Everyone else agreed to stay and look after the Atlas, as Tatooine didn't really interest them.
Natasha gave Peter a pointed look. "Be careful, okay?"
Peter nodded. "You too."
With that, Peter's ship glided smoothly out of the hangar, shooting toward the open desert beyond the city. His course was set toward the source of the energy signature tugging at his senses, somewhere buried deep beneath the sands of Tatooine.
Moments later, the second shuttle exited the Atlas, descending toward Mos Espa.
As the sleek shuttle settled onto one of the city's landing pads, the crowd below gathered cautiously. The citizens of Mos Espa stared up at the craft in fear and fascination, still unnerved from the sight of the colossal warship looming overhead.
Tony leaned forward in the cockpit, grinning as he watched the growing crowd. "Well, looks like we made an impression."
Rocket leaned over the pilot's seat. "Yeah, let's hope they're friendly. Or at least easily bribed..."
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Meanwhile…
Peter piloted his sleek starship over the endless dunes of Tatooine, the twin suns beating relentlessly down upon the sands below. His focus, however, wasn't on the heat or the desert—his mind was locked onto the invisible pull of the Force, guiding him deeper into the wasteland.
For a while, there was nothing but sand stretching endlessly in all directions. The thought crossed his mind more than once that maybe this was all for nothing—a mirage born from desperation and obsession.
But then, something appeared on the horizon. At first, Peter thought it was a trick of the heat, shimmering like a mirage. He leaned closer, squinting at the image. As the ship approached, the vision became clearer—a patch of green that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding desert.
It was an oasis.
The closer he got, the more unreal it seemed. What he thought would be a small cluster of trees grew into an expansive forest, dense and lush, the foliage stretching high into the sky.
Peter's eyes narrowed. The shapes of the leaves and the strange glow beneath the canopy triggered a sense of déjà vu. The plant life looked eerily familiar, resembling the alien seed he had absorbed back on Earth.
"This isn't an oasis…" Peter whispered to himself.
The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. The forest wasn't fed by some hidden spring beneath the desert—it had sprouted from one of his father's seeds. The Force had been right all along, leading him straight to it.
If the seed from Earth had given him power, how much could he gain from this? Peter's grip on the controls tightened with anticipation.
He angled his ship lower, intending to pass over the forest and scout it from above. But just as the nose of his ship crossed the treetops, something shifted below.
The forest came alive.
Vines, thick and sinewy, shot upward from the canopy, aiming directly at his ship. Peter's senses screamed a warning through the Force, and he yanked the controls, narrowly dodging the first wave of attacks.
The ship banked sharply, weaving between the whipping vines, which moved with unnatural speed and precision. Trees twisted and bent toward him, branches clawing at the air like they were alive, trying to drag him into the dense undergrowth.
Peter gritted his teeth, forcing his ship into evasive maneuvers. The engines roared as he zigzagged through the air, narrowly avoiding vines that lashed toward him from every angle.
"Alright, not friendly," Peter muttered.
He pulled back on the controls, trying to gain altitude and fly away from the chaotic attack. But the forest was relentless. More vines shot up from below, thicker and more aggressive. They coiled around the wings of his ship, dragging it downward with terrifying strength.
Peter cursed under his breath, trying to shake free, but the vines were too fast and too strong.
The forest was attacking as if it were starving.
The ship lurched violently as more tendrils wrapped around it, dragging it toward the ground. Alarms blared in the cockpit as the engines struggled against the overwhelming force pulling him down.
Peter's hands flew over the controls, trying to break free, but it was too late. With a deafening crash, the ship was yanked into the forest canopy. Trees closed in around it, their massive trunks creaking as they shifted to swallow the intruder whole.
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Back in the city…
"Ani, get back inside!" Shmi called, her voice laced with panic as she reached out to pull her son inside.
But Anakin was too awestruck to hear her. His wide blue eyes were locked on the two ships that had just flown out of the massive warship hovering above the city.
One of the ships descended to a nearby landing pad, its engines kicking up clouds of sand as it touched down.
"This has to be him!" Anakin whispered excitedly to himself, his heart pounding in his chest. "Star-Lord is finally here!"
Unable to contain his excitement, Anakin bolted through the busy street, dodging between merchants and startled pedestrians. Behind him, Shmi shouted for him to stop, trying to keep up, but the boy was too fast.
He raced toward the landing pad, his sandals kicking up little clouds of sand as he went. A crowd was already forming around the strange ship, the people of Mos Espa murmuring in fear and curiosity. They all stared in awe at the newcomers stepping out of the sleek vessel.
Anakin squeezed through the crowd, his small frame allowing him to slip between bodies as he fought for a clear view. When he reached the front of the gathering, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The first to step off the ship was a man clad in red and gold armor, the gleaming metal catching the twin sun's light. The figure's helmet hissed as it retracted, revealing the grinning face of Tony Stark. Behind him came a small, raccoon-like creature—Rocket—who rested a large, intimidating bazooka on his shoulder.
Anakin's heart sank. Neither of them looked like the legendary Star-Lord he had dreamed of meeting.
Then, Groot lumbered down the ramp, towering over the crowd as he stretched his long limbs. "I am Groot," he rumbled, causing the crowd to gasp and murmur in confusion.
Finally, two women descended the ramp. Both wore sleek combat gear with blasters holstered on their hips. One had fiery red hair pulled back in a braid while the other flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she surveyed the bustling street: Natasha and Mikaela.
Anakin's breath caught in his throat.
Though he was disappointed not to see Star-Lord, his eyes were drawn to the two women. He had never encountered women so beautiful and well-groomed; on Tatooine, even his mother, like most people, was perpetually covered in dust and grime.
Both Natasha and Mikaela moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating, and for a moment, Anakin forgot all about the ship, the crowd, and even his mother's warnings.
As the group passed through the street, the crowd parted for them, giving the strange visitors space to move freely. But Anakin didn't budge. He stood frozen, rooted to the spot as Natasha and Mikaela approached.
Natasha stopped in front of the boy, her sharp green eyes softening as she looked down at him. A small, curious smile played on her lips. "Hey, kid," she greeted warmly. "You okay? Do you need anything?"
Anakin swallowed nervously, glancing between Natasha and Mikaela. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out the only thing that came to mind.
"Are you angels?"
A/N: 1900 words :)
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