30 C30 Bloodied Hands

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Ronan stood between Peter's group and their ship, leaning against his staff-like hammer as if it were a cane. "I must admit, your tenacity is admirable. But did you truly believe you could escape the grasp of the Kree justice so easily? You've led quite the chase, but all roads end here. Surrender now, and perhaps I will consider sparing your lives."

As Ronan the Accuser's cold and unyielding voice echoed through the hangar, Windu stepped forward, his stance one of calm authority yet ready for conflict. "Ronan," he began, his voice firm but carrying a note of diplomacy, "we wish to resolve this peacefully. Simply let us leave, and we will avoid further conflict."

Ronan's laughter was a sharp, dismissive sound that bounced off the hangar's walls. "After you've injured countless Kree soldiers, and disrupted the order of this ship, now, you stand before me with one of our prisoners and ask for peace?" He shook his head, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and contempt. "How could I possibly accept that?"

Behind Ronan, the elite guards shifted, their weapons trained with deadly precision on Peter, Windu, and Nebula. The tension in the air thickened, a tangible pressure that seemed to compress the very atmosphere.

Peter, sensing the imminent threat, acted swiftly. With a subtle gesture, he used the Force to lift Nebula onto his back, freeing his hands. His right hand moved to his belt, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his lightsaber.

"!?" Nebula's eyes widened in shock. For a moment, she found herself floating before landing gently on Peter's back, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck once more.

Windu raised a hand, not yet drawing his weapon. "There's no need for violence, Ronan. Let us depart, and we will not trouble you further."

"And would you leave the prisoner behind?" Ronan inquired. But before Windu could answer, Peter responded without hesitation, "Hell no!"

Ronan's smile was malicious, expecting that answer. "Then it seems we've hit an impasse. Now surrender, and I will personally see to it that the Republic hears of your treachery. I'm confident they'll appreciate seeing the security footage of your actions today..." he proposed, his gaze flickering over to Nebula with a disdainful sneer. "And as for the girl, though she holds little value, I'm certain we can find a use for her..."

Nebula, though she couldn't physically confront Ronan from her position on Peter's back, met his gaze with a fierce, defiant glare.

"Yeah, no thanks…" Peter refused as he felt Nebula tighten her grip on him as if to reassure herself. "Now get out of our way…" He threatened, his hand grasping the lightsaber at this point.

"…" Windu remained silent, his hand finally moving to his lightsaber as well, waiting to see what Ronan decided to do.

Ronan's response to their refusal was swift. Lifting his hammer with a flourish, he signaled his men. As they opened fire, Peter and Windu drew and ignited their sabers, the glowing blades coming to life with a hiss.

The air was filled with the sound of blaster bolts being deflected, their bright streaks redirected away from their intended targets by the swift movements of the Jedi's sabers.

Peter, with Nebula securely on his back, moved with surprising agility, his focus split between protecting her and the coming counterattack.

In a moment of calculated risk, Peter redirected a bolt straight at Ronan, who, with a swift movement of his hammer, batted it aside as if it were nothing more than an annoyance. He began to advance, his every step menacing, a predator closing in on his prey.

Ronan targeted Peter, his eyes ablaze with a sadistic fury. The Kree warlord's advance was a sight to behold, a mixture of raw power and unwavering resolve. As he launched himself at Peter, swinging his Universal Weapon, Windu sprang into action, intercepting the blow meant for his apprentice.

The clash between Windu's lightsaber and Ronan's staff-like hammer was a spectacle of sparking energy and raw power. The lightsaber, a weapon capable of cutting through nearly anything, met the glowing hammer, surprising Windu as it withstood his purple blade's raw cutting power.

Locked in combat, Windu glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Peter's. "Take care of Ronan's men and start the ship," he commanded, his voice steady despite the strain of the contest.

With a focused push of his Force abilities, Windu sent Ronan sliding back, disrupting the Kree's advance and opening a path for Peter.

Peter nodded, following his master's orders, Nebula still clinging to his back. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, preparing to face the soldiers as he sprinted towards the danger, his body shooting forward at high speed.

He danced through the ranks of Ronan's elite soldiers, his black lightsaber a blur of deadly precision, each swing of his sword deflecting blaster fire, returning the bolts to where they came from.

Peter winced as the cries of the wounded filled the air, watching as one after another, his enemies fell, sizzling blaster impacts along their bodies. He was unsure if they were alive or dead, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know…

And soon enough, the inevitable moment came when, as Peter closed the distance, he faced a Kree soldier head-on. The soldier, his weapon raised and his intent clear, left Peter with no choice…

In a swift, reflexive action, Peter's lightsaber swung, bisecting the soldier in half, his body falling into two pieces, the smell of cooked flesh filling the air.

The act, necessary for survival, left a sour taste in Peter's mouth, a feeling of nausea that crept up his throat. It was his first time ending the life of another humanoid, fully aware of their death, and that he was the cause.

The weight of his actions pressed heavily on him, even as he continued to fight. The realization that this was no longer a simple skirmish but a fight for their lives crystallized within him.

Each soldier he faced now was not just an enemy but a life he had to extinguish to save his own and his companions. But despite the turmoil within him, he pressed on, driven by the need to protect, and to survive.

As the last of Ronan's men fell, Peter stood amidst the chaos, his breathing heavy, his lightsaber's glow casting shadows on his haunted face.

…

..

.

Peter stared motionless, the aftermath of the battle laid out before him in stark, unforgiving detail. His eyes, wide with the realization of what he had done, flickered from one fallen body to the next.

Suddenly, Peter began to hear Nebula's voice, repeating over and over into his ear. "…Peter… Peter… Peter… Peter!" She seemed to have been calling him for a while now.

"Huh?" Peter turned to look over his shoulder.

"We have to keep moving," she urged, her voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of his emotions. Peter could hear the concern laced within her words, a concern not just for their physical well-being but for her savior as well.

With a heavy nod, acknowledging the truth in her words, Peter gathered the remnants of his resolve and made his way to the ship, leaving dozens of scattered corpses in his wake.

Inside the ship, he carefully set Nebula down, ensuring her safety above all else. "Wait here…" He says as he turns to scan the hangar for any remaining threats, his gaze landing on the fierce battle still raging between Windu and Ronan.

The duel was a maelstrom of flashing weapons, with Windu's lightsaber dancing against the ominous power of Ronan's Universal Weapon.

In a sudden move, Ronan harnessed the might of his hammer, unleashing a concussive blast towards Windu. Without hesitation, Windu countered, a jut of his hand sending a wave of force telekinesis to meet the attack, neutralizing it.

The two combatants moved with a precision and ferocity that spoke of years of training and battle-hardened resolve. Windu's lightsaber danced in his hands, while Ronan wielded his hammer with devastating force, its glow illuminating his features with a sinister light.

But as the battle wore on, it became clear that Ronan was gaining the upper hand. A vicious swing of his hammer caught Windu off guard, the force of the blow sending him staggering backward, blood spewing from his mouth.

Peter watched, heart pounding, as Ronan pressed his advantage, his attacks growing more aggressive, more relentless.

"Nebula, stay here," Peter said, determination steeling his voice as he rushed out of the ship.

"Wait!" Nebula's protests followed him, her voice sharp with worry, but Peter's decision was made. He couldn't stand by while his master fought alone.

…

As the blunt end of the Universal Weapon impacted Windu's arm with a sickening crack, sending him sprawling to the floor, his lightsaber skidding out of reach, Ronan loomed over the defeated Master Jedi, victorious.

A smirk played on Ronan's lips, a dark promise of the end as he raised his hammer for the final blow. "This is the price of defiance," Ronan taunted, his voice a chilling echo in the vastness of the hangar.

Windu looked up, his resolve flickering like a flame in a storm as he called upon the force. The situation seemed dire, a moment frozen in time. Yet, the Jedi Master reached out, and his lightsaber glided smoothly toward his waiting hand.

Ronan poised to deliver the fatal strike, the air charged with the imminent threat of death. But before Windu could grasp his saber, or his enemies hammer could fully descend, suddenly, a surge of force, powerful and uncontrollable, filled the hangar.

It was as if the very air turned into a tidal wave, a manifestation of pure telekinetic energy that came crashing into Ronan with the fury of a tsunami.

Caught off guard, Ronan was hurled across the hangar, his body a mere ragdoll in the grasp of the invisible force, until he smashed into the far wall with a bone-jarring impact, drilling through the metal wall.

Windu's eyes widened, turning to see his padawan standing a few meters away from him, his hand held out.

"Still with us, old man?" Peter joked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Need me to find you a cane like Master Yoda's?"

Windu's eyebrow gave a slight twitch as he rose to his feet, his lightsaber materializing in his grasp. "Very funny," he responded with a hint of irritation, even as he detected the genuine concern behind his student's jest.

"Aargh!" Out of nowhere, Ronan's angry shout echoed across the hangar. Moments later, he emerged from a hole in the wall, his hammer throbbing with energy, eyes burning with hatred as he fixed his glare on Peter.

"I think he's mad…" Peter remarked, receiving an exasperated glance from his master that clearly meant, 'you think?'

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