I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C236 Aftermath

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The grand halls of the Jedi Temple were abuzz with tension. The Senate meeting had concluded hours ago, but its consequences rippled across Coruscant and the galaxy beyond. Holo-reporters swarmed the temple’s perimeter, shouting questions and accusations at every Jedi who entered or exited. Inside, the Council reconvened to assess the fallout.

Peter, Padmé, and Anakin stood in a quiet corner of the temple, watching a nearby holoscreen broadcasting a news report.

The anchor’s voice was sharp and unrelenting: “Today’s Senate session revealed disturbing accusations against former Jedi Count Dooku. While the Jedi Order claims he has turned to the Dark Side, no concrete evidence has been provided to substantiate these claims. Critics are questioning whether the Jedi are overstepping their bounds in an attempt to exert control over the Republic.”

Footage from the Senate meeting played on repeat—Plo Koon and Ki-Adi-Mundi addressing the senators, their calm demeanor overshadowed by the chaos of the accusations and rebuttals.

Anakin frowned, glancing up at Peter. “They’re twisting everything,” he muttered.

Peter’s masked face turned toward him, his tone dry. “Of course, they are. It’s propaganda, kid. And the Sith are damn good at it.”

Padmé folded her arms, her expression tense. “The Senate should have taken this seriously. Instead, they’ve handed the Sith exactly what they wanted—a divided Republic and a discredited Jedi Order.”

Peter nodded grimly. “And it’s only going to get worse.”

————

Across Coruscant, holo-screens displayed a new broadcast. The voice was deep, smooth, and anonymous, though Peter immediately recognized the calculated tone of the Sith.

“The Jedi claim to be our protectors, but what are they truly protecting? The destruction in the Senate hangar tells us everything we need to know. Reckless, unaccountable, and dangerous—how long will the Republic allow the Jedi to operate unchecked? Who watches the watchers?”

The footage shifted to manipulated images of Jedi in battle, carefully edited to make them appear destructive and uncaring. Scenes of chaos and destruction from prior battles played alongside ominous narration.

“The Jedi are not above reproach. They are not above the law. And yet, they hold themselves apart from the Republic they claim to serve. How long until their power becomes a threat to us all?”

Citizens across Coruscant murmured to one another as they watched. Some nodded in agreement, others exchanged worried glances. The seeds of doubt were taking root.

————

Inside the Jedi Council Chamber, the tension was palpable. The Masters sat in their chairs, their expressions heavy with concern. Peter stood before them, his mask on as usual, with Padmé and Anakin by his side.

Ki-Adi-Mundi was the first to speak, his tone sharp. “This is worse than we anticipated. The Senate is divided, and now the public is turning against us.”

Shaak Ti nodded, her voice calmer but no less concerned. “The Sith’s hand is evident in this. The timing of the propaganda is too precise to be a coincidence.”

Peter finally spoke, his tone blunt. “It’s not a coincidence. It’s a trap. And you walked right into it.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his accusation hanging in the air.

Peter stepped forward, his voice firm. “I warned you this would happen. The Sith are smarter than you give them credit for. They’re not just Force users—they’re manipulators, strategists. They orchestrated that entire meeting, and now they’re using it to turn the galaxy against you.”

Ki-Adi-Mundi bristled. “And what would you have us do? Remain silent while the Sith operate unchecked?”

Peter shook his head. “No. But you can’t hope to defeat the Sith by blindly charging into their traps. You fight with preparation. With strategy. Instead, you threw yourselves into the Senate’s hands, trusting a system that’s already corrupt to its core.”

Plo Koon and Shaak Ti exchanged glances, their expressions thoughtful. Even Yoda, who had remained silent thus far, seemed to be weighing Peter’s words.

Peter continued, his tone softening slightly. “You’re not dealing with a typical enemy here. The Sith are patient. They’re willing to play the long game. And unless you start thinking like them, you’re going to lose.”

As the tension in the chamber reached its peak, Yoda raised his hand, silencing the room. His gaze fixed on Peter, his expression unreadable.

“Insightful, your words are,” Yoda said, a thoughtful look on his face. “Blind, perhaps, the Jedi have been. Yet, change, we must embrace...”

Without a word, Yoda hopped down from his chair and unceremoniously strode out of the council chamber, with Peter, Padmé, and Anakin following close behind.

As they left, the Masters debated Yoda’s final words.

Ki-Adi-Mundi frowned, his tone skeptical. “What do you think Master Yoda meant when he said we needed to change?”

Plo Koon countered calmly. “I’m not sure.”

Shaak Ti added, “Yoda’s judgment has never steered us wrong. If he believes change is necessary, we must trust him.”

The Council fell silent, their faith in Yoda evident despite their reservations.

————

Meanwhile…

In a dark chamber…

Count Dooku knelt on the hard floor, his head bowed in deference. Before him loomed Darth Plagueis, seated in shadow. The Sith Lord’s presence was palpable, the dark energy of the Force swirling around him like a storm.

“The seeds of doubt are spreading,” Dooku began, his voice carefully measured. “The Jedi are on the defensive, and the Republic is beginning to question their authority.”

Plagueis was silent for a moment, his thin, gnarled fingers steepled under his hood. Then, he spoke, his tone icy. “And yet, you disobeyed me.”

Dooku stiffened slightly but did not raise his head. “I sensed… complications, Master. Yoda and Star-Lord were approaching. To stay would have been suicide.”

Plagueis’s tone darkened, each word dripping with menace. “I did not order you to survive, my apprentice. I ordered you to eliminate the witnesses. Instead, you fled like a frightened Padawan.”

Dooku clenched his fists, anger flaring within him. “Had I stayed, I would not have lived to fight another day.”

“Excuses!” Plagueis roared, rising from his throne with a speed that belied his frail appearance. The dark energy in the room seemed to tighten, as though the walls themselves were closing in.

Dooku gasped as an invisible force clamped around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Plagueis’s voice was low and venomous. “You failed me, Dooku. Not only did you disobey my command, but you allowed the Jedi to walk away with the knowledge of your true nature. Do you realize the danger you’ve put us in?”

The grip around Dooku’s throat tightened, and his vision blurred as he struggled to breathe. He clawed at the invisible force, his pride warring with the desperation of survival. “I—”

“Silence!” Plagueis bellowed, releasing his hold suddenly. Dooku fell to the ground, gasping for air, his hands braced against the cold stone.

“You revealed yourself to the galaxy as a Sith,” Plagueis continued, pacing slowly. “Had you succeeded in silencing the witnesses, the Jedi would still be chasing shadows. Now, they know your blade is red. They will hunt you relentlessly.”

Dooku pushed himself to his knees, his voice hoarse but steady. “I miscalculated. But even so, the damage has been done. The Jedi are fractured. The Republic’s faith in them is shaken.”

Plagueis stopped, his hooded face turning toward Dooku. “A convenient spin, but you did not orchestrate it. I did.”

Dooku frowned, his pride pricked. “Master?”

Plagueis gestured to a nearby holoprojector. It activated, revealing a series of public broadcasts filled with anti-Jedi rhetoric, carefully crafted to sow doubt and fear.

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“The propaganda you see before you was already prepared. I anticipated failure—yours, specifically.” Plagueis’s voice dripped with contempt. “And now, thanks to your incompetence, the seeds of division have taken root more deeply than I had hoped.”

Dooku’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “And yet, Master, I remain your strongest weapon.”

Plagueis chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of warmth. “Arrogance, even in disgrace. Typical of you, my apprentice.” He stepped closer, towering over Dooku. “You live only because I still have use for you. But know this: defy me again, and I will not hesitate to cast you aside.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the Sith’s power pressing down on Dooku.

“I understand, Master,” Dooku said quietly, his voice laced with both bitterness and submission.

Plagueis studied him for a long moment, then returned to his throne. “Good. Then hear me now. Star-Lord remains an anomaly. He is a variable we cannot predict, a flame that burns outside the Light and the Dark.”

Dooku nodded, his mind racing. “He is formidable, but not invincible. I will find a way to deal with him.”

“You will watch him,” Plagueis commanded, his tone final. “You will learn his weaknesses. And when the time comes, you will strike. But until then…” He leaned forward, his presence oppressive. “Do not fail me again.”

The room fell silent, the tension thick as Dooku rose shakily to his feet. He inclined his head, his voice steady despite the weight of his humiliation. “As you command, Master.”

Plagueis’s eyes gleamed beneath his hood as he watched his apprentice leave the chamber. Though the failure burned, the outcome was still a victory—for now. The Jedi were on the back foot, the Republic’s trust in them waning. And as the shadows of the Sith deepened, Plagueis knew it was only a matter of time before the galaxy fell into their grasp.

————

The next day…

The Jedi Temple - Yoda’s Meditation Chamber

The chamber was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting long shadows on the walls. Peter entered, his boots echoing lightly on the stone floor. Yoda sat cross-legged on a small platform, his cane resting beside him.

“You called for me?” Peter said, his tone casual as he removed his mask, letting it rest on his belt.

Yoda opened his eyes slowly, studying Peter with a thoughtful gaze. “A decision, I have made. Leave, we must.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Leave? To where?”

“Dagobah,” Yoda replied, his tone measured. “A place strong in the Force. There, face yourself, you will.”

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Why Dagobah?” He asked. ‘Isn’t that the planet where Yoda died in the movies?’ 

Yoda shook his head. “Dagobah, unique it is. The Force, thick it flows. Challenges, it presents. Strengthen your balance, it will.”

Peter frowned, considering the Grandmaster’s words. “You think my balance isn’t strong enough.”

“Strong, it is. But fragile, it remains,” Yoda said. “Tested, it must be. And strengthened.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Alright, Master. If you believe it will help, let’s go. We can take my ship.”

————

The Temple’s hangar was alive with the hum of activity, the muted buzz of shuttles and droids punctuated by the soft murmur of Jedi and crew preparing for departure. Near the center, a sleek shuttle gleamed under the artificial lights, its engines idling in anticipation.

Peter stood at the base of the ramp, his crimson coat catching the faint glow of the hangar lights. His mask still on as he glanced over the small group gathered with him. Beside him, Yoda leaned on his cane, his sharp eyes observing everything with quiet intensity.

Padmé stood nearby with Anakin, her arms crossed as she exchanged a look with Peter. There was no need for farewells this time—they were all going together. Anakin stood at her side, his youthful curiosity barely masking the excitement in his eyes.

Yoda turned to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, both standing near the shuttle’s ramp. “A journey, important this is. Much to learn, there is.”

Qui-Gon inclined his head, his expression serene. “I agree, Master Yoda. The Force calls us all to this path.”

Obi-Wan, ever composed, glanced at Anakin with a small frown. “An interesting group we’ve assembled,” he remarked dryly.

“Mesa ready to go!” Jar Jar shouted.

Peter stepped aside, motioning for the group to board. “Alright, everyone, let’s move. The sooner we’re off Coruscant, the better.”

The shuttle’s engines roared to life as the last of the group climbed aboard. Peter took one last glance at the hangar before ascending the ramp.

As the shuttle lifted off, Peter leaned against the viewport, watching the cityscape of Coruscant stretch endlessly beneath them. The glow of speeders and towering skyscrapers melded into a web of light, the Jedi Temple’s iconic spires standing tall above it all.

The Temple grew smaller and smaller as the shuttle climbed higher, its gleaming structure gradually fading into the sprawling city below. For a brief moment, Peter felt the weight of missed opportunities settle on his shoulders.

Aayla Secura. The name drifted through his thoughts like a soft melody. She was like a little sister to him—a bright presence in his life, always brimming with curiosity and humor. It had been far too long since he’d seen her. Unfortunately, her duties had taken her off-world during his short time on Coruscant.

And then there were the sisters—Gamora and Nebula. Their absence stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

Knowing they were all off-planet during his visit was a bitter pill to swallow.

But he’d see them all again. He knew it.

The corners of his lips curved into a faint smile beneath his mask. His family, scattered across the galaxy, was never far from his thoughts. The Force had a way of weaving paths back together, no matter how far they strayed.

…

As the shuttle docked with Atlas, the group disembarked, stepping into the expansive hangar of Peter’s ship. The towering walls gleamed under artificial light, and the faint hum of the ship’s systems was a soothing backdrop.

Yoda took a moment to glance around, his expression unreadable. “Impressive, your ship is,” he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of approval.

Peter smirked, gesturing around him. “Yeah, he’s something, isn’t he?”

“Dagobah, next our destination is,” Yoda announced, drawing the group’s attention. “Much to prepare for, there is.”

With everyone aboard and settled, the engines roared to life once more. Atlas rose from Coruscant’s orbit, its sleek frame cutting through the stars as it shot into hyperspace, bound for the mysterious swamp world of Dagobah.

A/N: 2379 words :)🚨🚨