C29 Unwilling Damsel
C29 Unwilling Damsel
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A/N: 2 Chapters Today! Also, I edited a line in the last chapter to clarify why Peter got mad and chose to save Nebula even though he doesn't know her. It's basically because her situation reminded him of how Windu found him on Yondu's ship :)
In the corridors of the Kree flagship, the tension between Master and Apprentice escalated with every step they took toward the prison sector. Their path was marked by the sounds of combat, as each encounter with Kree soldiers became a clash, leaving the halls filled with incapacitated bodies.
Peter, driven by a fury ignited by the Kree's cruel actions against a seemingly innocent child, moved with a determination that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. His attacks on the soldiers were ruthless, combining his force-enhanced strength and the skills he's honed for over three years in the Jedi Temple, leaving a path of defeated Kree in his wake.
Windu, though hesitant at first, found himself drawn into the fray, working in tandem with his apprentice. Yet, his heart wasn't in the fight—not like Peter's. He fought because he had to look after his student, not because he wanted to.
Of course, he felt bad for the poor, captured girl, but saving her wasn't their mission. Their mission was far greater than just a single life.
Windu glanced over at Peter, his mind clouded with the Jedi code, which preached detachment and warned against letting his emotions sway him, which his apprentice was most definitely doing right now…
Their journey through the ship was punctuated by their arguments, their voices low but filled with intensity. "Peter, we must think this through," Windu urged, blocking a punch from an oncoming soldier before knocking him out with a swift, calculated strike. "Rushing in, driven by your emotions, will only lead to recklessness."
Peter, however, was unmoved. "That's where you're wrong," he retorted, launching another unsuspecting group of soldiers against the wall with a gesture of his hand. "Sometimes, you gotta listen to what your gut's telling you. And mine is screaming that leaving that girl to suffer isn't the Jedi way—or at least, it shouldn't be."
"Besides," Peter continued, glancing back at his master. "My emotions aren't controlling me. I'm simply doing what I know is right…"
The discord between them grew as they advanced, their differing views clashing as fiercely as their assault on the Kree.
Windu's calm, controlled approach to combat contrasted sharply with Peter's aggressive tactics. Yet, despite their disagreements, they were a formidable force, their combined strength leaving no soldier standing in their path.
As they neared the entrance to the prison sector, Windu continued lecturing Peter, "…you still have much to learn, Peter. Acting on impulse, and emotion, even if you're still in control—these are the ways of the dark side, not the Jedi. We must always remain aware, yet detached from our emotions, something you're evidently struggling with."
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Instantly, Peter's frustration boiled over. He stopped abruptly, turning to face Windu with fire in his eyes. "You keep rambling on about the Jedi code, but what about compassion? What about defending those who can't defend themselves?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.
Windu, taken aback by the intensity of Peter's words, remained silent for a moment. The Jedi Master was known for his wisdom and experience, yet in that moment, he seemed to be searching for answers.
"Has this become the way of the Jedi? Claiming to be guardians of peace yet standing by while innocent people are left to suffer?" Peter continued, his anger giving way to a profound disappointment. "Because if that's the case, then maybe I've been wasting the last three years of my life."
The question hung in the air between them, a challenge that went beyond their current mission. It was a question of morality, of the very essence of what it meant to be a Jedi.
Windu's expression softened, the weight of Peter's words sinking in. "The Jedi are guardians of peace and justice," he began slowly, his voice steady. "But perhaps, in our pursuit of detachment, we've forgotten the importance of compassion..."
The acknowledgment didn't instantly heal the rift between them, but it offered a glimmer of understanding.
"Glad you could finally take that stick out of your a*s and think properly," Peter commented, a smile on his face. "It must have been jammed pretty far up there…"
"Language…" Windu warned, his expression morphing to match his apprentice.
As the tension between them began to fade, suddenly, the sound of alarms blared through the corridors.
Peter and Windu froze, turning their attention to the urgent wail that echoed off the metal walls. The tension between them may have vanished, but now another sort of tension began to rise.
Closing his eyes, Peter reached out with the Force, his senses expanding to encompass the entire ship, feeling a flurry of activity converging on their location. The life signatures of countless soldiers, previously scattered throughout the ship, now moved with a singular purpose toward them.
"It's like a swarm," Peter muttered, a frown creasing his brow as he estimated their numbers. "We've got-"
Before he could finish speaking, Windu, sensing the same impending threat through the Force, cut him off. "I know. They must have finally figured out what's going on. We don't have much time, let's find that girl and get out of here, quickly." He said, his voice low and urgent.
"Guess we're finally on the same page now," Peter said with a quick, appreciative smile. Windu merely nodded, his focus already shifting towards their next move.
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In a dimly lit prison cell, Nebula sat curled up on the cold metal floor, her gaze vacant and defeated. The tears that had once threatened to overwhelm her had dried up an hour ago, leaving behind a deep, unshakeable sense of despair.
She had long since given up any hope of escape or rescue. After all, her life seemed to be an endless cycle of suffering—first thanks to her father, Thanos, and now the Kree.
The sound of a distant alarm briefly pierced her bubble of desolation. She lifted her head, her eyes narrowing as she tried to decipher the cause of the commotion. A flicker of curiosity sparked within her, though it was quickly extinguished by the cold reality of her situation.
Most prisoners might cling to hope, imagining a rescuer coming for them or dreaming of an opportunity to escape. But Nebula knew better. Hope was a luxury she couldn't afford. Who would come for her? Thanos? The thought was almost laughable. She'd rather meet her end in this cell than get saved by her tyrant of a father.
Resigned to her fate, she barely reacted to the sound of footsteps approaching her cell. She assumed it was just another guard passing by or perhaps returning to taunt her. She didn't even bother to stand, let alone prepare for any confrontation.
But then, the footsteps stopped right outside her cell, and confusion mingled with a hint of fear. She watched, frozen, as a black energy blade, pulsating with white light, suddenly pierced through the door.
The blade moved with precision, cutting through the metal as easily as if it were butter. Nebula scrambled backward, her heart pounding, pressing herself against the wall as if it could offer any real protection.
The door, now severed from its hinges, clattered to the ground with a resounding thud. Standing in the doorway was a figure she had never expected to see—a handsome boy in slim, form-fitting Jedi robes, holding an all-black lightsaber at his side.
Peter Quill waved casually as he deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it back onto his belt. "Hey there," he said with a grin that was both reassuring and out of place in the grim surroundings. "I came to save you."
Nebula stared at him, her mind racing. This boy, this Jedi, had come for her? Why? Her initial shock slowly gave way to a wariness borne from years of hardship and manipulation. Yet, despite her suspicions, she couldn't deny the small ember of hope that his presence kindled within her.
"Why?" she finally managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes never left Peter's, searching for any hint of deceit or hidden agenda.
But all she found was a simple, kind-hearted sincerity that she hadn't seen in a long, long time. "I saw what happened to you back in the hangar," Peter began, his voice calm and empathetic. "I couldn't just walk away and leave you here."
Nebula's eyes, sharp with suspicion, remained fixed on him. "Why? You don't even know me. Why go through all this trouble?" Her voice was tinged with disbelief, not used to the concept of someone risking their life for her without an ulterior motive.
Peter simply smiled, casually introducing himself despite the circumstances. "I'm Peter. And you are?"
Reluctantly, she responded, "Nebula."
Instantly, recognition sparked in Peter's eyes. "Nebula…" he murmured, noting the few cybernetic enhancements along her body. Quickly composing himself, he offered her a warm, reassuring smile. "Well, now I know you, and you know me. So, can I save you now, or were you planning on staying here indefinitely?"
"I haven't decided yet," Nebula replied, her voice flat, betraying the depth of her resignation.
Peter's concern deepened at her words, sensing the profound despair that had taken root in her. But before he could respond, Windu's voice echoed from around the corner, urging them to hurry. "Peter, we need to move now. It won't be long before they're here..."
Choosing to ignore Windu's urgency for the moment, Peter focused on the person in front of him. Nebula's spirit seemed as fractured as her body, her will to live extinguished by years of suffering.
"Well, If you're not leaving, then neither am I," he declared, half-joking yet entirely serious, taking a seat on the floor across from her. "We can stay here together, and either die or get locked up forever, I guess."
Nebula's frustration rose at his nonchalant attitude toward danger. "Just leave already," she snapped, the first sign of life in her voice since he'd arrived.
But Peter remained unfazed, his resolve clear. "Are you coming with me?" he asked, meeting her gaze. When she didn't respond, he shrugged, adding, "Then I guess I'm staying. Can't leave you here all by yourself, can I?"
The absurdity of the situation finally broke through Nebula's walls. With a huff of annoyance, she stood, facing away from him. "Fine, I'll leave with you. But only to get you out of here," she conceded, her tone begrudging yet laced with a reluctant gratitude. Deep down, she recognized the rarity of his kindness, even if she wasn't ready to fully accept or admit it.
Peter grinned, standing up to join her. "That's more like it." He said, noticing how injured she seemed. "Now hop on and let's get out of here…"
"Huh?" Nebula grunted in confusion as Peter turned around and dropped to one knee, glancing back at her expectantly. "What are you doing?" She asked.
"Giving you a ride, now hop on." He instructed, ready to give her a piggy back ride.
"No, I can walk on my own…" She turned him down.
Peter's patience thinned as Nebula stubbornly refused his offer. "Look, we're going to be moving fast, faster than you can on your own—especially in your condition," he explained, trying to reason with her one last time. Yet, her response was a defiant cross of her arms, signaling a clear refusal.
With a sigh of exasperation, Peter decided that enough was enough. He stood, swiftly closed the distance between them, and without warning, scooped Nebula into his arms in a princess carry. "We don't have time for this," he said firmly, as he stepped out of the cell, holding her.
Nebula, caught off guard by his sudden action, flailed and protested loudly, "Put me down! I can walk on my own!" But Peter focused on the task at hand and ignored her complaints as they quickly met up with Windu, who waited around the corner.
And the moment they started running, Nebula realized the truth in Peter's words. The world around them blurred, their speed rivaling that of a low-powered speeder.
Overwhelmed and unable to maintain her initial resistance, Nebula instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around Peter's neck, her face warming with a blush of embarrassment at the closeness.
Dodging and weaving through the ship, they managed to avoid most of the soldiers, dispatching those they couldn't avoid with swift precision and coordination.
However, as they entered the hangar where their ship awaited, they came to an abrupt stop, the sight before them halting them in their tracks. Ronan the Accuser stood there, flanked by his most elite guards, his gaze fixed on them with a chilling intensity.
A/N: 2140 words :)