I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C231 He knows…

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The Palace courtyard buzzed with preparations, a flurry of guards and workers ensuring every detail was in place for the Queen's departure. The calm of the palace had given way to subtle tension, made more apparent by the dull roar of an approaching starship.

The sleek shuttle settled onto the landing platform, its engines purring softly as the ramp descended. From its interior stepped Peter Quill, the crimson hem of his coat brushing the ramp as he walked with his usual swagger. His mask covered his face, glowing faintly at the edges, but his unbothered air gave Padmé the unmistakable sense that he was grinning beneath it.

Trailing closely behind him, Anakin Skywalker bounced on his heels, barely containing his excitement. "Can't we go train again? I was just getting the hang of it…"

Peter, unhurried, reached out to nudge Anakin's head lightly. "Breathe, kid. Although training is important, you have to remember to stop and smell the roses every once in a while."

Anakin raised a brow. "What are roses? And why would I want to smell it?"

"Forget it…" Peter chuckled softly as they strode forward, his gaze lifting to find Padmé waiting at the top of the palace steps. Clad in her formal attire—her intricate gown catching the sunlight like flowing silk—she looked every bit the regal queen. Yet Peter could feel the sharpness in her gaze long before he reached her.

He stopped at the foot of the steps, tilting his head slightly. "You rang, Your Majesty?"

Padmé remained still, her arms crossed, though the faintest tension tugged at her mouth. "You're late."

Peter frowned ever so slightly under his mask, realizing that she was still mad at him. However, he didn't let it get him down, smirking. "Could've sent a fancier invite. Maybe a ribbon."

Padmé ignored the joke, her gaze cool as she turned, ushering the inside. "Follow me. We need to talk..."

————

Audience Chamber…

The chamber was far quieter than the courtyard, its tall ceilings making their footsteps echo faintly as Padmé led Peter and Anakin inside. She dismissed her guards and handmaidens with a quick wave, leaving the three of them alone.

Peter removed his mask and tilted his head as he watched her carefully. Padmé turned to face him, her posture straight, her voice formal but tinged with irritation. "We've been summoned to Coruscant."

Peter's smirk didn't waver, expecting this. "Huh. Do they want my autograph?"

"Peter, this is serious," Padmé snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. "The Senate wants answers—about the Trade Federation, about Naboo… and about you."

Peter's smile faltered ever so slightly, though he recovered quickly, crossing his arms. "I saved a planet. You'd think I'd get a 'thank you' card, not an interrogation."

"They're afraid of you," Padmé said bluntly, stepping closer.

Peter's gaze softened, though his tone remained even. "Good."

"Good?" Padmé echoed, frustrated. "You can't be serious."

Peter's smirk returned, though it carried less bite. "Relax. I didn't do anything wrong."

Padmé squeezed his arm lightly. "I know that. But you can't brush this off. Refusing to go will only make them see you as more of a threat."

Peter was silent for a moment, studying her face. Slowly, he exhaled, brushing his knuckles gently against her cheek. "You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough," Padmé replied, her voice hardening.

Peter smirked faintly, his tone turning playful again. "We balance each other out, then."

Her lips jerked downward, forcing herself not to smile. "Now isn't the time for this…"

Peter tilted his head, his gaze unwavering as he studied her. "You're still mad at me."

Padmé blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You're mad," Peter repeated, his voice soft but pointed. "I can tell. You're still sorting out… us."

Padmé stiffened, turning away slightly. "This isn't the time for that."

Peter followed her, closing the distance with a few careful steps. "No? Because I think it is."

"Peter—" she began, but his hand gently touched her arm, stopping her.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "I know you're angry. And I get it. I didn't exactly handle things… well." His tone turned self-deprecating. "But you've gotta believe me when I say you're the last person I ever want to hurt."

Padmé's resolve wavered, though she tried to hold firm. "It's not that simple."

Peter's lips curled into a faint smile, his hand brushing gently down her arm to catch her hand. "Nothing about us is simple, Queenie. But that's what makes it worth it."

She looked up at him, her gaze conflicted but softening as he squeezed her hand lightly. "You're insufferable," she whispered, though her voice lacked its earlier bite.

Peter grinned. "Yeah, but you like me anyway."

Padmé let out a faint huff, pulling her hand back as she turned toward Anakin, who was watching them with wide, confused eyes. "You're lucky we have bigger problems right now."

Peter chuckled, slipping his mask back into place with a faint hiss. "And here I thought my charm was unstoppable."

Padmé shot him a look over her shoulder, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. "Don't push your luck."

Peter followed her as they moved toward the exit, Anakin practically jogging to keep up. "So… are we going to Coruscant or what?" the boy piped up eagerly.

Peter ruffled Anakin's hair, his tone light. "Yeah, kid. We're going."

As they stepped back into the sunlight, Peter donned his mask once again, his tone turning more serious as he glanced at Padmé. "Don't worry. I'll handle the Senate."

Padmé glanced at him, her gaze lingering longer than she intended. "And the Jedi?"

Peter shrugged, though his voice carried an edge of steel. "I'll handle them too. I'm not running from this."

Padmé sighed softly, though her concern hadn't completely faded. "Just… don't make things worse."

Peter's smirk returned. "Me? Make things worse? Never..."

"Right…"

————

The stars outside the viewports streaked into long, shimmering lines as Atlas cruised through hyperspace. Despite the ship's massive size, the interior was calm and quiet, filled only with the faint hum of its systems and the occasional distant clank of droids working in the lower decks.

In the main lounge, Padmé stood near one of the broad observation windows, her gaze fixed on the swirling tunnel of light beyond. The scene might have been beautiful under different circumstances, but her brow remained furrowed, her arms crossed tightly.

"Pretty view, huh?"

Peter's voice broke the silence as he sauntered into the room, his trademark smirk softened just slightly by the low lighting. He stopped beside her, hands stuffed into his coat pockets.

Padmé glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to the stars. "It's beautiful," she murmured, "but… fragile."

Peter quirked a brow. "Fragile?" He asked. "Why do I have the feeling that we're not talking about the view anymore…"

She turned to face him, her expression serious. "Coruscant, the Senate… the Republic. It looks so strong from afar, but the closer you get, the more you see the cracks."

Peter hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against the window frame. "You're not wrong. Governments have a habit of looking sturdy until you push too hard. Then they crumble."

Padmé's gaze sharpened. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Peter studied her for a moment, his smirk fading as he reached out, brushing his knuckles against her arm. The touch was light but reassuring. "Hey. Relax. I told you—I've got this."

"You're awfully confident for someone about to face the Senate and the Jedi," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

Peter grinned faintly. "Well, they're politicians and space monks. I figure I'll just smile, tell a few jokes, and let you do all the serious talking."

Padmé sighed, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "This isn't a game, Peter. They're summoning you because they're afraid of you—afraid of what you can do. If they decide you're a threat…"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, though his voice held a quiet steel beneath its casual tone. "Let them. If they're smart, they'll realize picking a fight with me is a losing bet. I've got Atlas. I've got my crew. And I've got you."

Padmé looked at him, her expression softening just slightly. "You keep saying that. That everything will be fine."

"Because it will," Peter said simply. He gestured toward the window, where hyperspace rippled like an ocean of light. "I've seen enough of the galaxy to know when people are bluffing. The Republic's rattled—they want to test me, feel me out. But they're not ready for a fight."

"And the Jedi?" Padmé pressed.

Peter's expression faltered briefly, his gaze dropping before locking onto hers again. "The Jedi are a different story. Yoda probably has me figured out already—I'm sure of it," he said, the lingering presence of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan on his ship still gnawing at him. 'They should have left by now…' 

After all, they hadn't exactly made the best first impression on one another. But after a few days, their behavior shifted—they grew less hostile and noticeably more amicable, which only deepened Peter's suspicions.

'They must have reported back to Yoda, who told them to stay and spy on me…' Peter realized. "But I'm done hiding. Whatever's coming, I'll face it head-on."

Padmé held his gaze, searching for something in his eyes. Finally, she exhaled softly. "I just don't want to lose you."

Peter's smirk softened, and he reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not gonna happen, Queenie. I'm harder to get rid of than that."

————

Coruscant…

Anakin pressed his hands against the viewport, his eyes going wide with wonder. The entire planet seemed to shimmer like a jewel, its endless cityscape glowing with the light of billions of lives.

"It's huge…" Anakin breathed, awe in his voice. "I've never seen anything like it."

Peter stood nearby, arms crossed as he watched the boy with amusement. "Yeah, it's big. Overrated, though."

Padmé shot him a sharp look. "Peter."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "What? I'm just saying—I've seen prettier planets."

Before Padmé could reply, an incoming transmission interrupted them. A holographic display flickered to life, showing a stern-faced Republic officer.

"Greetings, this is Coruscant Defense Command. You are not authorized to enter planetary orbit. Power down your engines immediately."

Peter smirked faintly. "Told you they'd roll out the red carpet."

Padmé stepped forward, her voice calm and diplomatic. "This is Queen Padmé Amidala of Naboo. We are here under summons from the Galactic Senate."

The officer's expression remained stony, though he inclined his head slightly. "Understood, Your Majesty. A shuttle will rendezvous with your ship shortly. You and your escort will be brought down to the surface."

The hologram flickered out.

Peter turned to Padmé, his smirk still firmly in place. "See? Smooth as butter."

Padmé sighed, though a small smile betrayed her amusement. "Try to behave yourself when we land."

Peter tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Who, me? I'm always on my best behavior."

Anakin snorted quietly, and Padmé shook her head with a faint laugh. "Let's hope that's enough."

…

The Republic shuttle pierced through Coruscant's crowded atmosphere, its sleek hull gliding smoothly into the massive streams of air traffic. Through the viewport, the sprawling Senate District came into view—a labyrinth of skyscrapers, bustling landing platforms, and glowing walkways. Ships of every kind darted through the skies, their movements a carefully choreographed display of ordered chaos.

Inside the shuttle, Anakin Skywalker sat wide-eyed, practically glued to the window. "I've never seen so many ships in my life!"

Beside him, Jar Jar Binks let out a low whistle, his long ears twitching. "Ooh mooey mooey, dis place bombad big! Mesa thinkin' we might get lost."

Peter sat across from them, Padme at his side, slouched lazily with his arms crossed. His mask remained on, though the faint glow of its red lenses flickered as he observed the city-planet beyond. "Big's an understatement. It's like someone crammed a million hives into one giant metal ball."

At the front of the cabin, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi stood silently, seemingly excited to return home after a long trip away from the Jedi Temple.

Outside, the Republic landing platform loomed—a polished expanse of durasteel ringed with security forces and officials. A small group of Jedi Knights, led by Yoda, stood waiting at the edge, their robes fluttering in the faint wind.

Peter's posture straightened slightly, though his casual air never wavered. "Looks like the welcome party's here."

As the ramp descended with a soft hiss, Peter led the way, stepping onto the platform with his usual confident stride. Padmé followed close behind, her formal gown flowing around her as she held her head high. Anakin trailed them, wide-eyed and clutching at his small pack. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Jar Jar brought up the rear, the latter shuffling nervously as he tried not to trip over his own feet.

The sight that greeted them was a mix of Republic officials, guards, and the unmistakable presence of Master Yoda at the forefront. His small frame seemed to radiate calm authority as his sharp green eyes locked onto Peter's masked figure.

Though nothing was said, Peter could tell Yoda was observing him carefully—searching, probing, a knowing look in his eyes. 

'He knows,' Peter thought, though he didn't let it show. The mask helped with that.

Peter stopped a few paces from Yoda, tilting his head slightly. "Grandmaster Yoda, I presume."

"Presume right, you do," Yoda replied, his voice calm but pointed. His gaze lingered on Peter's form, and though he said nothing further, Peter could feel the weight of his scrutiny pressing through the Force.

Padmé stepped forward smoothly, her diplomatic tone breaking the tension. "Master Yoda, we've come as the Senate requested. I trust we can proceed without incident."

"Proceed, you shall," Yoda replied, inclining his head toward her. His focus shifted back to Peter. "Yet much to discuss, we have. Later."

Peter's mask tilted slightly, but his tone remained light. "Looking forward to it."

Anakin, meanwhile, stayed close to Peter's side, his gaze darting between Yoda and the other Jedi Knights. His awe was evident as he whispered to Peter, "Are they all Jedi?"

Peter nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah. But all of them are weak—except the green lawn ornament over there, he's the real deal."

"What's a lawn ornament?" Anakin asked curiously. 

Yoda's ears twitched at the remark, as he spent enough time on earth to know that Peter was calling him a gnome, though his expression remained perfectly serene. Without a word, he turned and gestured toward the waiting vehicle that would take them to the Senate building.

"Come. Time to move, it is."

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