I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C204 Crew Expansion

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——————

Peter remained standing in the middle of his room, still dressed only in his boxers, as Peggy sat across from him, her posture rigid with tension. The guilt in her eyes was undeniable, and as she opened her mouth to speak, Peter could already tell what was coming.

"I came to apologize," Peggy repeated, her voice steady but weighed down with regret. "I received orders from the World Security Council. They wanted me to retrieve a Decepticon body—one for Shield to study. Last night, I nearly went through with it… without telling you. I was about to have my agents take one, but I couldn't do it."

Peter watched her closely, his expression calm, not showing any anger or judgment. "Go on."

Peggy shifted in her seat, looking down at her hands for a brief moment before continuing. "I stopped myself, but the fact remains—I was going to betray your trust. I know how important these bodies are, and I acted behind your back. For that, I'm sorry."

There was a pause, the room filled with the soft hum of Atlas in the background. Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he processed her words. He could tell she was being genuine, and more importantly, she hadn't actually gone through with the plan.

"I'm not mad," Peter said, breaking the silence. "You didn't actually do anything, Peggy. And, to be honest, I don't mind giving Shield a few dead Decepticons."

Peggy blinked in surprise. "Wait, what?"

Peter smirked and turned his attention to the room's speakers. "Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Peter?" came the calm voice of the AI.

"Have a few of the unclaimed Decepticon bodies moved to the hangar. Shield wants them, so they'll be shipping them out today."

"As you wish, Master Peter. I will have the preparations made immediately."

Peggy stared at Peter, dumbfounded. "Unclaimed?"

Peter's smirk softened as he explained, "Yeah, some of the remaining Decepticons have claimed the bodies of friends or family members. I'm not about to give those away. But the others? They're just metal at this point."

Peggy couldn't hide the shock that flickered across her face. She had expected this to be a fight—expected Peter to resist giving Shield what it wanted. And yet, here he was, handing it over without hesitation. Something about it made her uneasy.

She shifted in her seat, crossing her arms. "You're really okay with this? No price, no negotiation?"

Peter smiled innocently, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Whatever could you mean?"

Peggy narrowed her eyes, suspicion bubbling to the surface. There's always a price with Peter Quill, she thought. He never gave anything away for free. "You're up to something," she said, her voice firm. "What are you playing at?"

Peter chuckled but didn't answer her question directly. He simply shrugged, that same innocent smile on his face. "I'm just being nice. Consider it a favor."

Peggy wasn't buying it, but she knew better than to push. After all, she was getting what she wanted, and if Peter didn't want to share his motives, she'd have to let it go. For now.

She stood, smoothing her jacket as she did. "Well, I appreciate it. But if you ever decide to reveal what's really going on in that head of yours, let me know."

Peter grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

Peggy gave him one last look—still suspicious, but unwilling to press further. She had bodies to transport, after all. "Thank you again, Peter," she said before turning on her heel and heading out the door.

As the door closed behind her, Peter's smile dimmed slightly, a more thoughtful expression settling on his face. The truth was, he didn't mind giving Shield the bodies because his mind was on bigger things. He was leaving soon, and maintaining a good relationship with Shield—and Peggy—was essential.

After all, they'd be the ones left behind to protect the Jedi and his family when he was gone. And Peter wasn't going to leave them without some powerful allies to watch their backs.

————

Later that day, Peter called a meeting with Optimus Prime and Bumblebee, who had tagged along quietly. The Autobots stood tall in the room, their presence commanding even in this relatively small space. Peter leaned against the table, his expression thoughtful. He had called them here for a reason—decisions needed to be made.

"We need to figure out what we're doing next," Peter began, getting straight to the point. "But first off, how's Auron doing?"

Optimus's expression softened as he thought of the young Cybertronian. "He's doing well. The Autobots have accepted him, and he's adjusting to his new life."

Peter nodded, then his eyes sharpened as he asked the next question. "Does he know about Megatron?"

Optimus frowned, his gaze shifting to the side. "No. He doesn't."

Peter crossed his arms, his tone serious. "You should tell him, Optimus. Sooner rather than later. Neither of us knows what Auron might do if someone else tells him the truth down the line. It's better to rip the bandaid off now, while you still have the chance to explain everything."

Optimus hesitated but then nodded slowly. "You're right. I'll speak to him soon."

Peter gave a short nod, pleased with that decision. He then leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. "Next, what are you going to do about the remaining Decepticons?"

Optimus's brow furrowed as he considered the question. "I've been thinking about that. What do you believe I should do?"

Peter paused, his mind racing through the possibilities. "Well, you've got a few options. You can keep them prisoner, kill them, set them free… or," he said, his eyes locking onto Optimus's, "you could take control of the Decepticons and lead both them and the Autobots. Maybe start with some prison time for them, considering they were your enemies only yesterday."

Optimus's frown deepened in thought. "Taking control of the Decepticons…" he muttered, considering the weight of such a decision. "I want to help turn Megatron's faction into what it once was—what it should have been. But I'm not sure it would work. I don't know if the Decepticons would ever truly change."

Peter shrugged. "You won't know until you try. And if anyone can lead them toward a better future, it's you."

Optimus's optics flickered with uncertainty, but he couldn't help but agree with Peter's logic. Still, the decision weighed heavily on him. "I'll take the day to think on it," he said at last, his tone resolute, though the internal conflict was clear.

Peter nodded, respecting Optimus's need for time. "Fair enough." He then leaned back slightly, his expression growing more casual. "One last thing—are you planning on staying here on Earth? Because if you are, I suggest you work with the Jedi and Shield. They're my allies, and they'll help you if you ever need it."

Bee, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke up, his voice concerned. "Why does it sound like you won't be here?"

Peter glanced over at Bee and let out a small sigh. "Because I won't. I'm leaving this planet in the coming days. I have things to do, places to visit, and people to see. Besides, my crew's getting bored of Earth, I can tell."

At that, Optimus's optics narrowed, his thoughts immediately going to the AllSpark. "If you leave," Optimus began carefully, "the AllSpark leaves with you. It's the most precious artifact to my people, Peter. Without it, our future is uncertain."

Peter quirked an eyebrow as he caught the serious tone in Optimus's voice. "And what do you want me to do about that?"

Optimus took a deep breath. "I need to know if the AllSpark will still accept me, Peter. Please… let me hold it."

Peter's brow furrowed slightly but, after a moment, he shrugged and pulled the necklace off. The AllSpark hung from the chain, glowing faintly as Peter passed it to Optimus.

And as soon as Optimus touched the AllSpark, it reacted—just as it had with Bee. A surge of energy shot through Optimus's frame, sending waves of pain through his circuits. He let out a grunt of agony as he dropped to one knee, his hand trembling as he released the necklace, letting it fall to the ground.

With a wave of his hand, Peter pulled the necklace back toward him and slipped it around his neck again, his expression thoughtful as he watched Optimus panting from the pain.

"So… what now?" Peter asked, his tone calm but curious.

Optimus took a deep breath, still kneeling as he brought his hand to his chest in a salute. "Peter Quill, will you allow us—the Cybertronians—to follow you?"

Peter blinked in surprise as Bee dropped to a knee beside Optimus, also saluting. "I'm guessing by 'follow,' you don't just mean to come along with me, huh?"

Optimus shook his head. "No. The AllSpark has chosen you, Peter. We are willing to follow its will. We cannot abandon the AllSpark—it is the heart of our people. If we cannot take it from you, then we must follow where it leads."

Peter scratched the back of his head, feeling the weight of their words. After a long moment of thought, he let out a sigh. "Sure. The Atlas can fit Cybertronians now, so you're welcome to join the crew."

Optimus and Bee stood, their optics glowing with gratitude. "Thank you," Optimus said solemnly. "We will not disappoint you."

"I didn't think you would." Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Welcome to the crew."

————

After dealing with the Cybertronians, Peter made his way toward the hangar. The Atlas's size had expanded significantly, making the walk longer than it used to be, but he didn't mind. His thoughts were occupied with what came next. The decisions he had made today were just the beginning. There was still one more thing he needed to deal with.

As he approached the prison hold near his ship, the air grew colder, more still. The sound of his boots echoed in the metallic corridor until he reached the cell he was looking for.

Inside, sitting in the shadows, was Darth Maul.

The Sith Lord was a shell of his former self. Maul had been left armless and legless after their brutal confrontation, his once imposing figure reduced to little more than a torso. Yet even in his weakened state, the hate in Maul's yellow eyes burned bright. His gaze snapped to Peter as soon as he stepped into view, venom dripping from his voice as he spoke.

"What do you want?" Maul hissed, his voice low and filled with spite.

Peter leaned casually against the bars of the cell, entirely undeterred by the Sith's glare. The sight of Maul—defeated, weakened, yet still brimming with anger—almost brought a smirk to Peter's face. He had expected no less.

"I have a proposition for you…"

A/N: 1831 words :)🚨🚨

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