I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C73 Witness the Blue Sky!

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——————

As the sun dipped towards the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the desolate desert, the atmosphere within the ship was tense. An army was approaching, and the silence of the desert was about to be shattered.

Revan was the first to step out of the ship, igniting his red lightsaber with a satisfying hiss. He positioned himself just outside the ramp of the ship, his stance calm yet commanding, ready to face whatever threat emerged from the shimmering heat of the desert.

Behind him, Groot’s massive form lumbered to the ship's exit. He didn’t carry weapons; his body was his arsenal. Vines began to writhe beneath his bark-like skin, ready to extend and attack at his command. His deep voice rumbled a simple, “I am Groot,” echoing his readiness.

A few seconds later, Howard followed, far less serene than his companions. He clutched a Tommy gun, a lit cigar clamped between his beak. As he stepped into the daylight, smoke trailed from his cigar, mingling with the dust kicked up by the approaching droid army.

The horizon blurred with movement as hundreds of sleek, silver droids soared across the desert, their forms glinting menacingly in the fading light.

Revan moved first, stepping forward as the droids descended. His lightsaber moved in a blur, deflecting incoming laser blasts with precise, calculated arcs. Each motion swift snd with purpose, the red light of his saber illuminating his ghostly features.

Groot roared, his arms extending into long, whip-like tendrils that snapped through the air, smashing into the droids. Several of which attempted to encircle him, but they were quickly entangled in his limbs, crushed by his immense strength.

Howard opened fire with his Tommy gun, the rapid rat-tat-tat of bullets tearing through the silence. Each burst was meticulously aimed, sending droids spiraling to the ground in showers of sparks and twisted metal. Smoke from his cigar swirled around him as he laughed, enjoying himself much more than he should. 

The fight was brutal and relentless. Droids continued to swarm, seemingly endless. Revan’s tactics were flawless, his saber a constant blur. Groot’s attacks were devastating, his body absorbing shots that would tear through metal. Howard’s gunfire never ceased, his aim deadly.

But, despite the ferocity of their defense, the trio was slowly being pushed back towards the ship. The droids were many, their attacks coordinated and unyielding.

Just when the situation seemed dire, Revan’s strategy shifted. With a forceful leap, he launched himself into the thick of the droids, his saber spinning in a deadly vortex. This unexpected move caught the droids off guard, and for a moment, the tide turned. 

Groot capitalized on the confusion, his tendrils smashing through the ranks of the faltering droids, breaking them apart like kindling.

Howard’s gunfire found new targets, each shot effective in the brief pause provided by Revan’s assault. The battlefield quickly became littered with the wreckage of their enemies, the smell of ozone and burning metal thick in the air.

As the last of the droids clattered to the ground, destroyed, Revan turned to his companions. His spectral form flickered slightly, the glow of victory in his eyes. “We should go find Peter,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the post-battle silence. “He may be facing a similar situation...”

Groot nodded, pieces of shattered droids falling from his limbs as he moved. “I am Groot,” he agreed solemnly.

Howard, though panting from the exertion, managed a gruff nod. His weapon hung loosely in his grip, spent casings littered at his feet. “Let’s move then,” he said, stepping over the debris. “I was getting bored of waiting on the ship anyway...”

————

Meanwhile, the alarm's shrill sound echoed through the labyrinthine corridors of the High Evolutionary's laboratory, slicing through the usual hum of scientific activity like a sharp knife. Amidst the chaos, Rocket, Floor, Lylla, and Teefs—each tense and alert, moved through the ventilation system.

Rocket led the way, his tail flicking with impatience as he scurried along the route they had meticulously planned hours before. "Follow me, and stay quiet," he instructed, his friends trailing closely behind. 

The group navigated the narrow metal tunnels, their progress marked by soft echoes and the distant sounds of the laboratory in disarray. As they passed a vent leading to a nearby hallway, a sudden voice echoed through it, causing them to freeze in fear of being discovered.

A deep voice echoed from the other side, chilling in its calm authority. "Ensure batch 89 is processed immediately. We’ve already started on the new batch, so we don’t need them anymore. We'll start with P13—his brain is too valuable to waste, so ensure there are no mistakes..." It was the High Evolutionary, his tone clinical and detached as he walked by, a group of scientists following closely behind him. 

Rocket froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Although he had already heard this from Floor, part of him doubted its truth, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Floor had misheard.

The betrayal cut deep; the voice of the man he once viewed as a father figure now sentencing him and his friends to death. Beside him, Lylla's breath caught, noticing Rockets upset demeanor.

Lylla reached out, her paw gently squeezing Rocket's. "We need to keep moving, Rocket. He'll be coming for us soon." Her voice was soft but insistent, pulling him from the brink of despair.

Nodding silently, Rocket pushed forward, leading the group through the twisting vents. They moved with renewed urgency, every sound magnified in the tense silence that followed.

As they approached the final vent, the outside light streamed in, promising freedom from their life of captivity. With a collective breath, they pushed the grate open, spilling out onto a sunlit street of an empty city.

Rocket squinted against the brightness, his senses overwhelmed by the fresh air and bright blue sky above—a stark contrast to the sterile confines of the lab. 

But, before they could savor the moment, the sound of approaching droids caught their attention. Panic surged as a small army of sleek, hovering machines zipped past, their metallic bodies gleaming under the sun. The group ducked instinctively, but the droids paid them no heed, focused instead on a distant target.

Risking a glance, Rocket saw a man and a dog fiercely battling another swarm of droids. His mind raced—were these allies or more pawns of the High Evolutionary?

Lylla tugged at his arm, pointing towards the fray. "Rocket, they must be why the alarms went off."

Floor peaked out at the battle, “should we help them?”

Rocket shook his head, a hint of his usual defiance creeping into his voice. "Not our problem. We're out, and we're staying out. Let's go," he insisted, turning away from the chaos, his heart and mind set on escape and escape only.

The group hesitated, then followed Rocket as they moved away from the commotion, their steps quick and silent on the cool concrete. But as they put distance between themselves and the battle, a sudden, eerie silence fell. The loud clashing and buzzing of droids ceased unexpectedly.

Rocket paused, a chill running down his spine. He turned just in time to see the droids halting their attack, their sensors swiveling towards him and his friends. The abrupt attention was unsettling, and Rocket's fur bristled with unease.

At the same time, the man and the dog amid the fray turned their eyes toward Rocket's group, their expressions filled with surprise and curiosity.

"Oh crap," Rocket muttered under his breath. 

————

Minutes earlier, as the alarm pierced the stillness of the barren city, Peter snapped into focus. The droids, sleek and menacing, closed in from all sides, climbing the skyscraper with ease as they rushed toward their prey. 

Peter's eyes narrower as they grew closer. "Looks like we've got company, Cosmo," he said, peering off the edge of the building. Cosmo growled, her stance mirroring Peter's, ready for battle.

As the first wave of droids approached, Peter focused, feeling the force coursing through him. He extended his hands, lightning crackling from his fingertips, frying the nearest group of droids in an instant as they fell back towards the ground. The impact created a fiery explosion, illuminating the city's vacant streets.

As the next wave grew near, Peter kept his hands out, channeling a powerful telekinetic blast. The air crackled with energy as several droids were hurled back, crashing into each other, damaging many of them enough to fall once again, the ground lighting up in yet another explosion. 

Cosmo joined him. Her telekinetic prowess was evident as snatch multiple droids from the air, slamming them into each other.

However, the droids were relentless. More surged forward, adapting to their tactics. Peter gritted his teeth, using a mix of sith lighting and telekinesis to fend the off. 

Beside him, Cosmo, her fur bristled and eyes narrowed in concentration, hurled another batch into the nearby buildings, shattering windows and scattering debris across the desolate city.

Peter, seeing how many droids were ascending towards them, knew they couldn't hold the high ground. He glanced at Cosmo, nodding towards the street. "Jump now!"

Together, they leaped from the building, descending amid a hail of debris and shattered glass. As they fell, both of them used telekinesis, tearing through dozens of droids, ripping them apart as they passed by. 

And as he and Cosmo landed on the hard concrete, telekinetically cushioning their fall, Peter’s eyes widened as he grabbed Cosmo by the collar and dodged a volley of laser blasts from above, feeling the heat graze his skin.

On the ground, the droids swarmed them in seemingly infinite numbers. “How many of these things are there?” Peter used his force-enhanced strength to grapple with a droid, tearing it apart with his bare hands before hurling it into an oncoming group. 

His control over the force was palpable, the air around him shimmering with energy as he deflected attacks and countered with precise, telekinetic thrusts.

And despite his limited mastery of Ionize, Peter decided ti test it out and attempted to disrupt the internal circuits of the nearest droid. For a moment, sparks flew, but the droid merely stuttered before recalibrating.

‘I guess I still need more practice…’ He thought. 

As they continued fighting what was starting to feel like a losing battle, as the droids just kept coming no matter how many they destroyed, suddenly, the army of droids paused, their bodies turning in another direction. 

Peter, panting, followed their gaze and his eyes widened. There, in the shadow of a nearby building, were Rocket and his friends—Teefs, Lylla, and Floor—sneaking through the streets, hoping to use Peter and Cosmo’s situation as cover for their escape. 

‘Rocket?’ Peter thought as the droids, now ignoring him and Cosmo, converged towards the group of odd-looking animals with renewed purpose.

————

Back in the lab, only a few minutes after Rocket’s group escaped, High Evolutionary and his guards entered the room where Rocket and his friends were being held, intent on finally purging Batch 89 and securing Rocket's brain.

But upon their arrival, the normally secure space, where the test subjects had been caged, was now disturbingly vacant. Even worse, the small vent on the wall across the room hung wide open, an obvious sign of escape.

"Secure all exits!" barked High Evolutionary, his voice tinged with frustration and urgency. His guards scattered, following his commands with swift precision.

High Evolutionary paced the room, his mind racing. The escape of his test subjects was unacceptable—a failure that could not stand. With a grim expression, he turned and made his way to the security room, determined to regain control of the situation.

As he entered the room filled with monitors, his eyes immediately found the one displaying the footage of the city. The battle between the intruders and an onslaught of droids dominated the screen, the chaos and destruction drawing a tight line across his forehead.

However, it was the sight of P13 and the others moving stealthily through the streets that caught him off guard. He never expected them to make it out of the lab already…

“How dare they…” He muttered, his anger rising as he slammed his hand down on the console, attracting the attention of a nearby technician. "Redirect the droids. Target batch 89. They are my property, and they must not leave here alive!"

The technician nodded, fingers flying over the controls as he redirected the droids' orders. On the screen, the swarm of sleek machines paused, recalibrating their directives with mechanical precision. 

A/N: 2123 words :) 

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