C32 Aftermath

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With the battle against Ronan and his soldiers concluded, Peter, Windu, and Nebula wasted no time in their departure. They knew all too well the risks of lingering; the rest of the fleet orbiting Ronan's flagship might notice the silence from their commander, or a stray soldier onboard might send out an alert. The urgency propelled them forward, their steps quick and purposeful.

But as they were about to walk off, leaving what was left of Ronan behind, Peter caught a glimpse of an outline in the headless corpses pocket. Walking over to take a look, he found a small, handheld data-pad, which seemed to be password protected.

Turning to Windu, Peter held up the device and asks, "Hey, should we take this with us?"

His master nodded, "Sure, the Senate might have a use for it…"

As they boarded their ship, Peter couldn't help but glance back at the looming battleship. "We could blow the flagship to bits as we fly off," he mused aloud. "It would help give us a smokescreen as we escape..."

After all, they weren't sure how the rest of the fleet would react to their unannounced departure.

Nebula seemed onboard, but Windu, however, shook his head. "That would be senseless slaughter, Peter," he said, his voice firm yet not unkind. "Remember, among even Ronan's soldiers and staff, there could be at least one innocent soul. It is not the Jedi way to kill indiscriminately."

Nebula rolled her eyes as she heard this, clearly disagreeing, though she didn't voice it. "…"

Peter's shoulders slumped slightly, realization dawning on him. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded, the thrill of battle fading to leave room for reflection. "I guess I got a little carried away…"

And luckily, as their ship quietly slipped out of the hangar, the vast expanse of space appearing before them, not a single Kree ship opened fire, allowing them to fly off without any issues.

…

..

.

The hum of the Jedi ship filled the silent void as it sped through the vibrant tunnels of hyperspace, heading back to Coruscant. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with an unspoken tension, the remnants of the day's events weighing heavily on its occupants.

Peter sat alone by the window, his gaze lost in the hypnotic swirls of hyperspace. His Walkman lay in his lap, its headphones clinging to his ears, the melody drowning out the world around him, but his mind was far from the music.

🚨Play Knockin' On Heaven's Door by Guns N' Roses🚨(A/N: Yes, I know this song wasn't on his mixtapes in the movies, but the time period works so I'm adding it.)

🎶Mama take this badge from me🎶

🎶I can't use it anymore🎶

🎶It's getting dark too dark to see🎶

🎶Feels like I'm knockin' on Heaven's door🎶

🎶Knock-knock-knockin' on Heaven's door🎶

🎶Knock-knock-knockin' on Heaven's door🎶

🎶Knock-knock-knockin' on Heaven's door🎶

🎶Knock-knock-knockin' on Heaven's door🎶

…

Beside Peter leaned the Universal Weapon, a trophy from his battle against Ronan the Accuser.

Today, he had crossed a line he knew he would have to step over sooner or later—taking lives in the heat of battle. The faces of the people he killed, though they were trying to kill him first, flickered in his mind like ghostly apparitions.

Yet, guilt remained a stranger to him. Was it the justification of self-defense that numbed his conscience, or was he losing a part of himself, desensitized by the harsh reality of it all? Peter didn't know…

…

Across the room, Master Windu sat in silent meditation, replaying the final moments with Ronan, questioning the morality of their actions. The Jedi Code was his guiding light, yet he may have broken it today.

Had they acted in true defense when they killed Ronan, or had they become executioners in the name of the greater good?

The answer was clear.

They could have captured Ronan, as he was already disarmed and defeated, but instead, they decided to kill him, to spare the Galaxy from any future massacres or genocides spurred on by the Kree empire's most radical Zealot.

The conflict between his beliefs and the harsh realities of their previous situation gnawed at him, a storm brewing in the calm of his meditation.

…

Caught between these two introspective individuals, Nebula found herself sitting at a table in the center of the room, her gaze shifting between Peter and Windu, feeling out of place.

She couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility for the day's bloodshed. After all, if not for her, Peter might have avoided the confrontation with Ronan entirely. They had plunged into the heart of danger to save her, and the cost of that decision was in front of her now.

The desire to break the silence was overwhelming, yet she hesitated, unsure if her words could fix anything.

Soon enough, the oppressive atmosphere began to shift as Peter, seemingly reaching an acceptance of the day's grim events, pulled himself from the depth of his thoughts.

A pragmatic resignation took hold, acknowledging the galaxy's perils and the likelihood of facing such situations once again. "That's just how this universe works," he mused silently, the acceptance of this reality clearing the fog of his mind.

Stashing his Walkman away, his gaze landed on Nebula, her features etched with discomfort. Moving towards her, he took a seat across the table, prompting an unexpected apology from her. "I'm sorry…"

"What? Why?" Peter asked, genuinely puzzled.

Nebula hesitated, then shared her earlier thoughts, her voice tinged with guilt and sorrow.

Peter, in his characteristic manner, shrugged off the gravity of her words. "Ronan needed killing anyway," he reassured her, his tone light but sincere. "Truthfully, if I could go back, I'd do it all over again. Including saving you, so don't worry about it, okay?"

The warmth in Peter's words touched Nebula, a rare gesture of kindness that felt alien yet comforting.

Curious, Peter continued his questions. "Hey, you okay? I mean, how did you end up in this mess anyway?"

Nebula's gaze shifted, a flicker of pain in her eyes before she responded, "I was just… in the wrong place at the wrong time. Flying through space when Ronan's fleet decided I was their next target..."

Peter nodded, unsure if she was telling the truth or not, but ultimately choosing not to pry. After a moment, he ventured another question, treading cautiously. "Do you… have any family? Anyone we can contact for you?"

Her reaction was immediate and telling; she stiffened, the mention of 'family' conjuring shadows in her eyes. For a brief moment, she seemed to retreat within herself, a fortress of solitude against painful memories.

Until finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "No, there's no one."

Peter caught the undercurrent of sorrow in her words and decided not to delve deeper. "Okay, I get it. We all have things we'd rather leave behind or not talk about." His tone was understanding, offering her a silent promise not to broach the subject again.

"So, what will you do now?" Peter finally asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I don't know," Nebula admitted, the uncertainty of her future a looming specter.

Peter, empathetic to her plight, lamented his inability to offer more help, as he's only a penniless Jedi Padawan, without a single cent to his name. He couldn't even house her if he wanted to, as the Jedi would have to agree to take her.

Yet, as he witnessed the frown of contemplation on Nebula's face, he made a silent vow to seek Master Yoda's assistance, hoping the Jedi could help Nebula in some form.

————

Coruscant…

As their ship descended into the atmosphere, headed toward the Jedi Temple, Peter couldn't help but feel at ease. He hadn't realized until now, but he slowly began to consider the Temple, and Coruscant itself as his home.

They landed smoothly in the designated area, the hum of the engines quieting to a gentle purr. As the ramp descended, they were immediately greeted by Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum and the venerable Jedi Grandmaster Yoda. Nebula, a stranger to such dignified company, followed closely behind, her eyes scanning her surroundings with wary curiosity.

Peter recognized Chancellor Valorum—the very one Palpatine would have deposed to seize control of the Republic, making him wonder what old Sidious was up to right now.

'Hopefully, the council has made good use of my warning…' He thought before quickly refocusing on the present.

They were ushered into the Jedi Temple, winding through its grand corridors until they reached the council room. Nebula, not being a Jedi or a government official, was asked to wait outside, a request she complied with silently, albeit with a noticeable edge of discomfort.

Inside the council room, the atmosphere was solemn. Valorum, Yoda, and the rest of the council listened intently as Windu began the briefing, handing over Ronan's data-pad as he spoke.

They detailed everything: from their initial meeting with Nova Prime and everything they learned about the war, to the pointless meeting with Ronan the Accuser and his subsequent death.

Peter felt all eyes on him as he admitted his part in the mission's rather violent deviation. He knew Windu wouldn't cover for him, nor did he expect him to, so the only choice was to be truthful. As expected, some council members' expressions darkened upon hearing Peter's explanation.

Sensing their judgment, Peter couldn't stay silent. "May I speak freely?" he asked, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity.

Yoda nodded. "Speak, you may."

Peter stood, his gaze sweeping the council members. "I know some of you are disappointed in me, and I'm prepared to accept any punishment. But saving Nebula was the right thing to do. If that means I jeopardized a mission, that was already doomed to fail from the beginning, then so be it. I believe in doing what's right, even when it's hard. If that's not what being a true Jedi is about, then maybe it's the council's vision that needs reevaluation, not my actions."

The room fell silent, his words hanging heavy in the air. Yoda's eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement, or perhaps it was respect. The rest of the council exchanged looks, their earlier disapproval now mixed with contemplation.

Chancellor Valorum nodded thoughtfully as Peter concluded his heartfelt speech. "While we tread in times of uncertainty," Valorum began, addressing the council, "let's not be so quick to judge those who act with valor and conviction. The death of Ronan the Accuser, though regrettable, opens a pathway to friendship with the Nova Empire, a friendship I was already working towards, actually."

His words set the room abuzz. A few Jedi, steeped in tradition and the moral absolutes of the Jedi Code, raised their voices in dissent. "But this changes nothing. Either way, the rules have been broken," one council member challenged, sparking a fervent exchange of perspectives.

As the debate waged, Peter watched, his fate hanging in the balance. The minutes stretched into what seemed an eternity until a consensus was reached. Yoda, having listened intently to all sides, finally spoke. "Teach the bear clans dueling class for a month, you will," he decreed, a twinkle in his eye. "Severe, this punishment is not. Yet, reflect on your actions, you must."

Relief washed over Peter, a smile creeping onto his face. But before he could leave, he turned back, one final request burning within him. "Master Yoda, there's something else. Nebula—she's got no family, nowhere to go. Can the Jedi offer her a place to stay, at least until she figures things out?"

The room tensed, ready to rebuke, but Yoda raised his hand, silencing any opposition. "Stay in the Temple, she may. A place of learning and healing, the Jedi Temple is."

Gratitude filled Peter's voice as he thanked Yoda. Exiting the council room, he found Nebula, her posture tense from the unfamiliar environment. "Got some good news," he said, his smile broad and genuine. "You're welcome to stay at the Temple for a while. Figure things out, and get some rest. You're safe here."

Nebula's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and relief washing over her, as she thought she might have to sleep on the streets tonight. Suddenly, a faint smile touched her lips—a sign that, perhaps, her fortunes were about to change.

————

As Peter was helping Nebula settle into her new quarters within the Jedi Temple, the intense discussions within the council chamber had finally begun to wane. The Jedi Council, after much debate, was still torn on the righteousness of his and Windu's actions during their recent mission.

Like always, the council remained split, some believed they did a good thing, while others believed the Jedi code, as well as the directive of their mission, had been broken.

With a heavy sigh, Yoda called the meeting to an end. The members, one by one, filed out of the room, leaving behind a silence that felt almost oppressive.

Windu, however, lingered, his gaze following Yoda. As the room emptied, his voice cut through the silence, "Master Yoda?"

Yoda paused, turning to face Windu. The gravity of Windu's expression did not escape him. "Bothered, you are? Speak, you should."

Windu took a step forward, his posture rigid, the reflection of a man burdened with unspoken fears. "It concerns our Padawan…" he initiated, his tone laden with a deep sense of worry. "I hesitated to bring this matter before the council, not wanting to stir unrest without necessity…"

The air between them grew thick with foreboding, as Windu continued, "Peter's behavior during, and especially after our mission, has raised some alarms in me…"

A/N: 2300 words :)

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