I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C234 Vs Yoda & Fleeing

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The Jedi Temple

Peter followed Yoda through the grand entrance of the Jedi Temple, his steps echoing on the polished floors.

Two Jedi guards stationed at the door straightened upon seeing Grandmaster Yoda. Their gazes flicked briefly to Peter, curiosity evident beneath their calm exteriors.

"Who is that?" one whispered.

The other guard leaned closer, his tone reverent. "I think it's Star-Lord."

The first scoffed softly. "Yeah, right…"

Their conversation trailed off as Peter's masked face turned slightly in their direction. Though he didn't speak, the faint hum of amusement in the Force suggested he'd heard every word.

Yoda's cane tapped steadily as he led Peter deeper into the temple. Finally, they arrived at a vast training hall, its walls lined with weapons and training gear.

Yoda stopped in the center of the hall, setting his cane aside with deliberate care. He straightened, his small frame radiating quiet intensity. "Begin, we shall."

Peter tilted his head, his voice carrying a smirk behind the mask. "You're really going through with this, huh? You sure you don't want a handicap? I've gotten pretty strong, you know?"

Yoda's only response was the sharp hiss of his lightsaber igniting. The green blade hummed to life, its glow reflecting in Yoda's calm, focused eyes.

Peter sighed dramatically. "Alright, old man. Let's dance." He activated his lightsaber in return, its blade crackling to life with vibrant black energy.

Yoda moved first, leaping high into the air with astonishing speed. His small form became a blur, his lightsaber a streak of green as it descended toward Peter. 

Peter barely raised his blade in time, the two sides clashing with a burst of light!

"Fast," Peter muttered, spinning his lightsaber to deflect another rapid strike. "You've been holding back on me."

Yoda's response came with another flurry of strikes, each faster and more precise. "Hold back, I must no longer."

Peter was forced onto the defensive, his blade moving in precise arcs to block Yoda's relentless assault. Each strike was calculated, each movement purposeful. Yoda's agility was unparalleled, his small size making him a difficult target to predict.

As their sabers clashed, the room began to quake. The energy of their strikes sent shockwaves rippling through the air, cracking the marble floor beneath their feet. Tapestries fluttered violently, some tearing free from their mounts as the Force rippled outward like a storm.

Peter lunged forward, using the Force to push Yoda back. The Grandmaster flipped mid-air, landing gracefully and pressing the attack again. Peter barely avoided a series of rapid slashes, his footing faltering as Yoda's relentless pressure forced him backward.

The walls of the hall groaned as a fissure split one side, sending fragments of stone crumbling to the floor. Dust filled the air, and the glow of their sabers illuminated the chaos around them.

Peter gritted his teeth as Yoda's strikes grew heavier, his attacks sharper and more aggressive. The weight of the Force pressed down on him, testing not just his skill but his resolve.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Peter asked, refusing to tap into his awakening Celestial strength, as he didn't want to hurt Yoda.

"Test you, I must," Yoda replied, his strikes forcing Peter to retreat. "Balance, fragile it is. Show me, can you hold it?"

Peter countered with a Force-imbued swing, the energy of his blade crackling against Yoda's. For a moment, they locked weapons, the energy of their clash sending a pulse through the room that shattered a nearby pillar.

The temptation to draw on anger flickered at the edges of Peter's mind, the Dark Side whispering promises of power and relief from the relentless pressure. The weight of the fight bore down on him, the exhaustion pulling him closer to the edge.

Yoda sensed it immediately, his sharp gaze narrowing. "Feel it, you do," Yoda said, his tone low but firm. "Control it, you must."

Peter exhaled sharply, closing his eyes briefly. The whispers of the Dark Side grew louder, but he focused inward, drawing on the Force to steady himself. The turbulent energy around him shifted, calming like a storm that had run its course.

When he opened his eyes, his balance was restored. He deflected Yoda's next strike with a calm precision that he didn't seem to have before.

Yoda leapt again, his blade descending in a powerful arc. Peter met the strike head-on, the clash sending sparks flying. With a burst of energy, Yoda flipped backward, extinguishing his blade and landing lightly on his feet.

"Enough," Yoda declared, his voice calm but decisive. "Proven, your balance is. Yet fragile, it remains."

Peter deactivated his staff, wiping sweat from his brow. "You really don't pull punches, do you?"

Yoda retrieved his cane with a wave of his hand, his expression thoughtful. "Strength, you have. Control, you must keep."

Peter smirked faintly, though his tone carried respect. "Always watching, Master. Always learning."

Yoda's gaze remained fixed on Peter, his expression unreadable. "If balance, truly you seek… then more, there is to learn."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "More?"

Yoda tapped his cane softly against the floor. "A journey, we must take. Learn, you will."

Peter crossed his arms, clearly intrigued. "And where are we going?"

"Dago—"

Before Yoda could finish speaking, a distant explosion shook the temple. The walls trembled, and a faint plume of smoke rose into the Coruscant skyline.

Peter turned to the window, his mask snapping into place with a soft hiss. "That came from the Senate building."

Yoda's eyes narrowed, his expression turning grim. "Go, we must."

Without another word, the two darted from the hall, their presence in the Force rippling as they rushed toward the chaos at full speed.

————

Hangar - Senate Building

Moments earlier…

The group froze at the sight before them. Yaddle stood battered but defiant, her green saber raised against Dooku's crimson blade. Behind Dooku, the flickering hologram of a hooded man loomed, his presence as imposing as the Sith Lord before them.

"Master?" Qui-Gon's voice cracked, his disbelief echoing across the space. His eyes were fixed on the crimson blade in Dooku's hand. "What… what is this?"

Dooku turned slowly, his face unreadable for a moment as his gaze met Qui-Gon's. A flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossed his face before his expression hardened. "This is the truth, Qui-Gon. The truth the Jedi refuse to see."

Obi-Wan stepped forward, his hand instinctively resting on his lightsaber hilt. "A red blade, Master Dooku? So, you've betrayed the Jedi."

Dooku's gaze shifted to Obi-Wan, his voice cold. "You are young, Kenobi. Naive. The Jedi cling to a dying order, blind to the galaxy's true needs."

Before anyone could respond, the hooded figure's voice rang out, icy and commanding. "This is no place for philosophy, my apprentice. Finish your task. We can't risk the Jedi finding out—at least not this soon."

Dooku hesitated, his lightsaber lowering slightly. "Master, Qui-Gon is—"

"—expendable," the hologram interrupted sharply. "Put an end to this distraction. Eliminate them immediately."

Dooku turned back to Yaddle and the rest, his resolve hardening. "I'm sorry," he said softly, raising his blade. "This is the only way."

"I won't let you lay a finger on them!"

Yaddle lunged first, her blade slicing through the air as she aimed for his shoulder. Dooku parried with practiced ease, his movements precise and deliberate. Sparks flew as their sabers clashed, the Force rippling around them in waves of energy.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, igniting his lightsaber as his voice rang with urgency. "Master, stop this! It's not too late!"

Dooku's blade clashed against Yaddle's as he turned to face Qui-Gon, a mix of regret and frustration in his eyes. "I wish it were, my old apprentice. But the Jedi are blind. Their time is over."

Before he could continue, Obi-Wan's blue blade hummed to life as he charged in beside Yaddle and Qui-Gon. The trio attacked in unison, their coordinated strikes forcing Dooku to fall back momentarily.

Yet, despite the numbers against him, Dooku's movements grew sharper, more brutal. The dark energy surrounding him intensified, fueling his strength and precision. He countered their strikes with calculated ferocity, his familiarity with Qui-Gon's style giving him the edge. Obi-Wan, less experienced and still recovering from Dooku's earlier maneuvers, struggled to keep pace.

Yaddle, her movements slower from injury, deflected a particularly vicious strike, her voice firm as she called out, "You don't have to do this, Dooku! We can still save you!"

"Save me?" Dooku sneered, spinning to block Qui-Gon's incoming slash. His voice dripped with bitterness. "It is the galaxy that needs saving—from the Republic, from the Jedi, from their corruption!"

He redirected Obi-Wan's thrust with a subtle twist of his wrist, sending the younger Jedi stumbling back. A sudden surge of the Force hurled Qui-Gon and Yaddle several meters away, leaving Dooku standing tall and unyielding.

Their fight grew increasingly destructive, the clash of lightsabers and bursts of Force energy sending debris flying across the hangar.

Amidst the chaos, Anakin's eyes darted toward one of the smaller ships parked near the hangar's edge. It was sleek, metallic, and intimidating—but it also had guns. He scrambled toward it, his small legs pumping as he climbed the access ramp.

n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Anakin!" Padmé exclaimed, suddenly realizing he was no longer by her side. Her alarmed voice quickly drew everyone's attention. 

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted, trying to keep his focus on deflecting Dooku's strikes. "What are you doing?"

Anakin ignored them, clambering into the cockpit with wide, nervous eyes. The controls looked like a jumbled mess of levers and blinking lights, but he had to try. His fingers hesitated over the buttons before pressing one with a decisive click. The engines roared to life, causing the whole ship to shudder beneath him.

"Okay… okay…" he muttered to himself, gripping the yoke with trembling hands. The ship rose slowly as he took aim, squeezing the trigger, causing a blast of laser fire to streak across the hangar.

The first bolt slammed into the ground near Dooku, who spun around, his expression twisting into alarm. Anakin's face paled as the recoil from the shot made the ship's guns jerk upward, spraying wildly. One of the stray bolts struck the hull of another parked ship.

Dooku dove for cover as another blast from Anakin's ship ripped through the hangar, hitting a line of vessels like falling dominoes.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

The explosions echoed like rolling thunder, consuming the hangar in a chain reaction of fire and shrapnel. Flames climbed the walls, and smoke billowed, choking the air.

"Anakin, stop firing!" Obi-Wan yelled, throwing up a Force barrier as the shockwave surged toward them. He shielded Padmé and Jar Jar from a rain of fiery debris.

Yaddle somersaulted out of the way of a falling beam, landing just as Qui-Gon reached out with the Force to shove a crate clear of her path.

Inside the cockpit, Anakin wrestled with the controls, his white-knuckled grip barely keeping the ship steady. His heart thundered in his chest as sparks erupted around him. "I didn't mean to do that!" he shouted, frantically slamming buttons in a desperate attempt to disable the weapons. To his relief, the system finally powered down, and the ship dropped back to the floor with a jarring thud.

Smoke billowed, and the air filled with the acrid stench of burning metal. Through the chaos, Dooku's silhouette emerged, his cloak billowing.

Dooku paused for a moment, his face shadowed by the flames. He looked back at Qui-Gon, his expression unreadable. "You should leave the Order, Qui-Gon. Before it's too late."

Qui-Gon stepped forward, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. "Why are you doing this, Master? This isn't you."

For a fleeting moment, Dooku's stoic facade cracked, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. But before he could answer, his gaze shifted, his body tensing as if sensing something in the Force. His eyes narrowed.

"They're coming," Dooku muttered.

The hologram of Darth Plagueis appeared beside him, his voice sharp and commanding. "Kill them! End this now."

Dooku hesitated, his hand hovering over his lightsaber. "No… You feel it too, don't you? Yoda and… something else. Someone else."

Plagueis's voice turned cold. "Star-Lord... His presence burns in the Force like no other. They're both nearing."

Dooku's expression hardened, though a hint of fear flashed in his eyes. "I'm not strong enough to face them—not with the others here. This is no longer a fight. It's a death sentence."

Plagueis's hologram bristled with anger. "Cowardice! You'll regret this, my apprentice."

But Dooku ignored him, turning toward his ship. "I've made my choice."

"Master! Wait!" Qui-Gon exclaimed. 

Without another word, Dooku leapt aboard. The engines roared to life, and the ship blasted out of the hangar, ascending into the smoke-filled sky at full speed. 

Left behind, his apprentice stood frozen, a devastated look etched across his face.

…

At that moment, Yoda and Peter appeared at the edge of the hangar, their forms illuminated by the flames. Dooku's ship streaked upward, a trail of silver against the smoke.

"There!" Peter shouted, extending his hand. Yoda mirrored the motion, their combined power surging through the Force to halt the ship mid-flight.

The vessel trembled under the weight of their hold, its engines straining against the invisible grip. Inside, Dooku gritted his teeth, diverting all power to the thrusters. The ship shuddered violently, its hull groaning, before slipping free of their grasp.

"Too far, it was," Yoda said quietly, watching as the ship rocketed into the sky, disappearing beyond the atmosphere. "Strong, our hold was. But late, we were."

Meanwhile, the hangar continued to crackle and smolder, flames licking at the ruined ships as the acrid smoke billowed into the night. Peter lowered his hand, his masked gaze lingering on the trail of Dooku's ship. Beside him, Yoda's expression remained grim, his small form outlined by the glowing fires.

A sudden noise drew Peter's attention—scattered footsteps and muffled voices from within the wreckage.

"Anakin!" Padmé's voice, hoarse and panicked, cut through the chaos.

Peter turned sharply, his heart racing. Out of the smoke and flames, Anakin emerged first, his face smudged with soot but his blue eyes wide and alert. 

Behind him, Padmé stumbled forward, coughing into her sleeve as she clutched her gown to keep from tripping. 

Jar Jar followed close behind, his long ears drooping, while Yaddle, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan brought up the rear, their eyes scanning for further danger.

"Padmé?!" Peter called out, stepping forward instinctively. 

A/N: 2436 words :)