4 C4 Midi-chlorian Count?

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Taking Peter to his ship, Windu carefully deposited him inside the med-bay, a sterile chamber filled with the hum of medical equipment. The young boy's fragile form lay on the examination bed, surrounded by an array of beeping machines. A medical droid, sleek and efficient, glided over to begin its evaluation.

"Is this a new patient, Master Jedi?" The droid asks, its voice high pitched and electronic.

Windu nodded, "Yes, give him a full examination, he wasn't in the best condition when I found him…"

"Oh, dear…" The droid muttered as it began its work. "I'll do all that I can!"

As the droid initiated its tests, Windu retreated to the cockpit, overseeing the undocking from the Ravager ship. The ship shifted as it detached from the pirate vessel. Engaging the autopilot, he guides the ship on its course back to Coruscant.

Returning to the med-bay, Windu found Peter connected to various machines, each fulfilling a crucial role in his recovery. Some devices monitored his vitals, while others administered medications and vaccinations that the young boy surprisingly lacked.

A hose descended into Peter's mouth leading all the way to his stomach, delivering a nourishing greyish-brown paste, addressing the immediate need for sustenance.

Approaching the bed, Windu observed Peter's fragile state with a mix of concern and pity etched on his stern face. Turning to the medical droid, he inquired, "What have you found?"

The droid responded with a litany of issues: malnutrition, severe dehydration, extensive scarring from physical abuse, and the shocking absence of Republic-mandated vaccinations.

Windu frowned, absorbing the gravity of Peter's suffering, "Will he recover?"

"He will need time to recover, Jedi Master Windu," the droid replied, its metallic voice devoid of emotion. "However, with proper care, a healthy diet, exercise, and medication, he should be as good as new in a month or two."

A sigh of relief escaped Windu's lips as he thanked the Force. The responsibility of saving a life weighed heavily on his Jedi shoulders, and the prospect of failure was not an option.

Expressing gratitude to the droid for its diligent work, Windu couldn't help but watch over Peter for a moment. The boy, lost in healing slumber, appeared vulnerable yet resilient. Windu's thoughts lingered on the mysterious connection that led him to this child, a connection fabricated by the force itself, bringing him to this unknown child.

As the medical droid continued its tasks, Windu asked, "Can you test his midi-chlorian count?"

(A/N: Just a warning, I'm changing what Midi-Chlorians are in this story. In normal Star Wars, Midi-Chlorians are sentient intelligent beings that live in the cells of every living beings. That will not be the same in this story.)

Midi-Chlorians are microscopic particles that originated from the foundation of all life, ultimately residing within the cells of all living organisms, connecting them to the force.

Through countless years of testing and experimentation, the Jedi and the Sith have both learned one very important thing. The higher the Midi-Chlorian count, the higher sensitivity that person has to the force.

Those with a higher Midi-Chlorian count, like Jedi Grandmaster Yoda, who sits at a whopping 17,700 Midi-Chlorians per cell in his body, are able to more easily connect to the force, allowing them to wield its power at a much higher level than everyone else.

With a nod, the droid collected a small sample of Peter's blood and inserted it into a handheld device for analysis.

The room fell into a momentary silence as the device processed the information. Windu, his gaze fixed on the droid, couldn't anticipate the revelation that awaited him. The droid, after a brief pause, announced the astonishing result.

"Jedi Master Windu, the younglings midi-chlorian count exceeds 40 thousand."

The words hung in the air, a revelation that echoed through the Force itself. Windu, unsure as to whether the machine was broke or not, instructed, "Run it again." He was reluctant to accept what he just heard.

After all, even half that number would send the Jedi Council into a frenzy.

"Yes, sir…" The droid ran it again and again, and they even tried two other devices, but each subsequent test yielded the same extraordinary result.

40 thousand Midi-Chlorians in every cell of his body, more than double Grandmaster Yoda…

Windu's mind raced as he contemplated the implications. "Could he be the Chosen One?" He muttered in shock before turning to the droid, a deadly serious look on his face. "Watch over him and make sure there's no mistakes… We can't afford to overlook anything when it comes to his health. I'll go inform the council of our findings."

"Yes, sir!"

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Days slipped by in the sterile embrace of the med-bay. Tubes and wires snaked around Peter, connecting him to various machines that monitored his recovery. On the third day since his rescue, as they were getting close to their destination, consciousness returned like a slow tide, and Peter awoke to find a metal droid looming over him, its unblinking gaze fixed on his eyes.

Startled, Peter nearly jumped out of his skin. The droid, with a voice that resembled a high-pitched hum, spoke, "Good, you're awake!" It said excitedly, "Wait here, I'll go to inform Jedi Master Windu of your awakening."

Alone in the med-bay, Peter's memories flooded back. He had been rescued by a Jedi, and the embarrassing incident of puking on the Jedi Master's shoes played vividly in his mind. Despite the less-than-heroic introduction, Peter couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude for being saved from the clutches of the Ravagers.

Just as he began to relax into the bed, suddenly, Peter's eyes widened as he quickly searched his pockets, only calming down again as he pulled out his broken Walkman.

'I still have it…' He smiled as he held the cracked device closely, swearing to get it fixed as soon as possible so that he could hear his mother's mix tapes once again.

Stashing his most prized possession away for the time being, Peter pondered his current circumstances, 'I'm Peter Quill, but this isn't just the Marvel universe. It's also Star Wars somehow…' he thought, contemplating all of the added dangers and opportunities this might bring.

While he was deep in thought, Mace Windu entered the med-bay, his tall figure casting a commanding presence. "Do you remember me?" He spoke gently, breaking Peter from his thoughts.

"Yeah, thanks for saving me…" Peter nodded, offering a sheepish apology, "I'm sorry about your shoes…"

Windu smiled a bit as he waved off Peter's concerns. "Don't worry about it. As a Jedi, physical attachments mean nothing. I can simply buy a new pair."

Peter, still embarrassed, reluctantly nodded as he introduced himself. "I'm Peter Quill, by the way. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself earlier."

"Do you have any family, Peter?" Windu asked as Peter shook his head.

"My mother passed away before the Ravagers took me, and my father was never in our lives." He answered, a sad tilt to his voice.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Windu replied, and with a calm demeanor, offered a proposal. "How about I take you to the Jedi Temple? You're Force-sensitive, and with the right training, you could become a Jedi."

Peter, intrigued by the prospect, asked. "How can you tell that I'm Force-sensitive?"

"I felt a disturbance in the force, which led me to you. There is no doubt, you can become a Jedi as long as you put your mind to it," Windu explained.

However, he tactfully omitted any mention of Peter's exceptionally high midi-chlorian count or the inkling that he might be the Chosen One. After all, he didn't want Peter to get too full of himself, and a large ego is one of the worst things for a Jedi to have.

Eager for answers, Peter pressed further. "Why me? How would the force lead you to me? What even is the force?" He added, pretending that he didn't already know.

Windu chose his words carefully. "The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us, binding the galaxy together." He paused for a moment before continuing. "The force tends to work in mysterious ways, and it's the duty of the Jedi to follow the will of the force, even if we may not always understand it. And our meeting was the will of the force."

The simple explanation left much unsaid, but Windu recognized the importance of not burdening the young boy with the weight of his own destiny just yet.

After a thoughtful pause, Peter spoke. "I'm willing to become a Jedi, if they'll have me."

It wasn't a hard decision to come to. After all, his mother was gone, his father is a psychopathic god, and here he was, a child with two lives worth of knowledge and experience, in an unfamiliar galaxy.

'The safest option right now is to join the Jedi and use them to grow while I figure out what to do with this new life of mine…' Peter thought as he eyed the lightsaber dangling off of Windu's belt. 'Getting a laser sword and some force training is just an added bonus!'

Windu, with a nod of approval, assured Peter, "Although you're a bit old to enter the academy, I'll do my best to convince the Jedi Council to make an exception."

"Too old?" Peter raised a questioning brow. "I'm only 9 years old…"

Windu quickly explained. "The Jedi temple only takes recruits from ages 1 to 5 years old. The only reason that you would be given a chance is because of the will-"

"-of the force," Peter interjected, which brought a smile to Windu's face.

"See? You're already starting to get it." Windu said confidently. "We'll make a proper Jedi out of you yet."

…

Soon enough, the medical droid returned and swiftly kicked Windu out of the room, stating that Peter needed to rest.

"I'll return to check on you later." Windu said as he was rushed out of the room. "If you can, I would suggest getting some sleep. We'll be arriving on Coruscant in a few hours, and I'm sure the Jedi Council will want to meet you before making a decision about your acceptance."

"Alright, I'll try to sleep, if I can…" Peter nodded as the room cleared and the door hissed shut, leaving him alone.

…

Almost an hour passed as Peter tried to sleep, but his body just didn't seem to need anymore rest. After all, he's been asleep for days already.

'What the hell am I supposed to do now?' He asked himself as he stared up at the ceiling, an idea suddenly coming to mind. 'I could try to meditate and feel the force…'

Sitting up in the sterile med-bay, Peter decided to see if Windu was right about him being force sensitive or not. Closing his eyes, he regulated his breathing, attempting to calm himself and reach out to feel whatever he could.

Anticipating that results might take time, he was surprised when, after only a minute, he felt it. The Force was all around him and within him, like an unseen ocean he hadn't known he was swimming in until now. The revelation brought a genuine smile to Peter's face, he was indeed Force sensitive.

Unbeknownst to Peter, as he delved deeper into his meditation, the Force responded in kind. His connection grew stronger, and he began to float and hover a few inches above the med-bay bed. It was an unintentional manifestation of his newfound abilities, a testament to the potency of the Force coursing through him.

Hours slipped away as Peter continued to explore this ethereal realm.

In that time, the ship neared its destination, Coruscant, the capital of the galaxy, coming into view through the vessel's cockpit. The sprawling cityscape of towering buildings and traffic-filled skies unfolded before him, a stark contrast to the familiar nature of Earth.

Still immersed in his meditation, Peter was unaware of the ship's arrival. His connection to the Force, however, kept him buoyant and attuned to the ebb and flow of the energy that bound the galaxy together.

As the vessel descended towards the planet, Peter's eyes suddenly widened as he felt the planet and its many inhabitants through the force, his body falling back into the bed. 'What the f*ck was that!?'

A/N: 2092 words :)

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