C71 Farewells & Incineration?

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The sleek corridors of the Kree citadel were unnaturally silent as Darth Sidious, now a member of the council guiding the new Kree Empire, prowled through its innards.

The shadowy figure, his cloak billowing softly behind him, approached a securely locked chamber deep underneath the building. The heavy door slid open, revealing a dimly lit room where Carol Danvers lay motionless, her body suspended in a containment field that hummed with a low, ominous energy.

Sidious approached the suspended figure with a calculating gaze. He reached out, his gnarled hand trembling slightly with anticipation, as he touched the back of Carol's head, feeling for the small, almost imperceptible bump under her skin.

After reading what was left of Carol's file and running some tests, Sidious was finally ready to wake up his newest minion. Finding the inhibitor chip implanted by the Supreme Intelligence, he used a delicate tool to carefully manipulate the chip, his hand as steady as a surgeon as he worked.

Soon enough, the chip clicked, and he stepped back as Carol's eyes fluttered open, confusion and fear momentarily flashing through them before they glazed over, replaced by an eerie calmness.

"Rise, my new apprentice," Sidious commanded, his voice a sinister whisper that filled the chamber.

Carol, her expression now blank, floated down from the containment field, her movements smooth yet somehow mechanical.

As she faced Sidious, he couldn't help but let a sinister smile creep across his face. The power emanating from her was palpable, a raw, cosmic force, not related to the force whatsoever, that promised destruction and domination.

"Where am I?" Carol's voice was steady, but there was a hint of something else beneath—perhaps the remnants of her former self, struggling against the dark tide rising within her. "Who am I?"

"You are in the heart of your new empire," Sidious explained, his voice a blend of velvet and venom as he circled her like a predator eyeing its prey. "You have been chosen for a great purpose. Under my guidance, you will achieve feats beyond your wildest dreams. As for who you are, that is of no consequence. You are the instrument through which my will is executed—an invaluable tool, not burdened by a name but empowered by purpose."

Carol nodded slowly, her mind processing this new reality under the influence of the chip. Sidious, sensing her compliance, decided it was time to test the extent of her abilities. He pointed to a thick, steel wall panel on the other side of the room.

"Show me your power. Destroy that wall."

Without hesitation, Carol turned to the wall, her hands lifting as a brilliant, glowing energy coalesced around them. With a swift motion, she unleashed a blast that tore through the metal like paper, leaving a smoldering hole where the wall once stood. The display of power brought an even broader smile to Sidious' face.

"Excellent," he murmured, his thoughts already racing with the possibilities. "With you at my side, we will reshape this galaxy."

Carol turned back to face him, her eyes still void of emotion. "What are your orders, master?"

Sidious stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling the surge of cosmic energy coursing through her. "There is much to be done, and many tasks ahead..."

As they exited the chamber, Sidious couldn't help but revel in the success of his newest acquisition. Carol Danvers now stood beside him as a weapon of unimaginable power, ready to be wielded against anyone who dared stand against him.

————

Meanwhile, in the aftermath of the execution on Naboo, seeing that Padmé was deeply affected, Peter chose to stay at the palace for a few days longer. His continued presence provided comfort as she dealt with her first kill, even if she wasn't the one to do the deed.

Padmé struggled with the responsibility of her first execution, which weighed heavily on her conscience. But with time and Peter's support, she began to swiftly recover. Her resilience and dedication to her role as queen helped her overcome the initial turmoil, allowing her to focus on leading her people once more.

As the days passed, the palace staff and even the royal guards, who had initially eyed Peter with suspicion, started to view him differently. The air of hostility that once followed him seemed to dissipate slightly.

Peter noticed the occasional nods of respect from servants and guards—small acknowledgments of his efforts to support their queen during her darkest moments.

Even Captain Panaka, whose disdain for Peter was no secret, found himself begrudgingly respecting the mysterious man. While friendship was very far off, Panaka's hard gaze softened in acknowledgment of Peter's support for Padmé.

It was now evident that Peter harbored no ill intentions toward his queen, which softened the Captains stern demeanor enough to ease the tension between them.

During the extra days Peter spent on Naboo, his crew were a common sight on the palace grounds. While their leader spent his days with the Queen, Groot amused himself in the gardens, Howard flirted with the maids, and Cosmo lazily sunbathed by the windows, a serene presence amid the bustling corridors.

Until finally, on the day of their departure, as Peter and his crew loaded their ship, Padmé, accompanied by her guards, came to see them off. There was a hesitancy in her steps, a reluctance that colored her features.

"Must you leave?" Padmé's voice was soft, a gentle plea hidden within. Her hands clasped behind her, tightening as she awaited his response, her eyes reflecting a mix of hope and resignation. "I could hire you as my official bodyguard? I'll even throw in a mansion for you and your crew…" She offered, making up an excuse for him this stay.

Peter felt a tug in his heart. Staying would be easy, comforting even, but he couldn't. His mission to find Earth was still unfinished. "Padmé, you know I can't. I've got to find my home planet. This—Naboo, it was only supposed to be a quick stop. I'm sorry, but I have to go…"

Padmé nodded, her smile strained as she fought to mask her disappointment. "Of course, I understand..." Yet her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, told a different story.

As the crew continued their preparations, Peter stepped closer to Padmé. He pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling her tense at the unexpected closeness. "You know you can message me, right? You've got my number. Call me, message me—anything you need." he reassured her, his voice low and warm.

Pulling back slightly, Padmé looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anything? Even just to say hello or vent about my day?"

Peter chuckled, nodding his head. "Especially then. I expect daily updates on Naboo's politics, how annoying your chief minion is being, and anything else going on."

"…" Panaka's eyes narrowed at Peter's words, but he held his tongue, aware that interrupting their farewell would displease his Queen.

"This isn't goodbye forever; it's just 'til next time," Peter added, ignoring the glare that Panaka was sending him.

Padmé's laughter, though fleeting, was genuine, and it eased the tension between them. "Be careful, Star-Lord," she warned, her voice playful yet earnest. "If you don't visit me again soon, I might just have to assemble an army to bring you back."

Peter grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's a promise then. I'll come back to Naboo, sooner rather than later." He said, the promise lingering in the air as he stepped back towards the ship.

Cosmo trotted over, her tail wagging in readiness. "We're all set, Captain!" She barked, her excitement palpable.

"Be right there," Peter nodded and patted her head. As Cosmo ran back into the ship, he took one final look at Padmé, who stood strong and regal, yet vulnerable. "Looks like this is it…"

Her gaze met his, and after a brief pause, she spoke hesitantly, "Before you go, could I see your face? I want to see the man behind the mask…"

Peter's eyes widened ever so slightly, but ultimately, he shook his head. "Not this time, Padmé," he replied softly, his voice gentle. "But I promise, next time we meet, I'll show you. No more masks."

Understanding flickered in Padmé's eyes, and though her disappointment was evident, she nodded, respecting his wish. "I'll hold you to it then. Safe travels, Star-Lord."

With those final words, he turned and walked up the ramp of his ship. The doors closed behind him, sealing him away as the engines roared to life.

"…" Padmé watched the ship lift off, disappearing into the blue Naboo sky, her heart filled with a mix of sorrow and anticipation for their next meeting.

————

The engines hummed as Peter guided his ship through the outer rim of Naboo's orbit. Leaving the planet behind, he punched in one of the two possible coordinates that might lead to Earth, his long-lost home, and leaned back into the pilot's seat with a heavy sigh.

As he relaxed in his chair, suddenly, the dim cockpit was alight with a spectral glow. Beside him materialized the ghostly figure of Revan, the Sith turned force ghost. "Took you long enough," Revan remarked, a knowing smirk forming on his spectral lips. "A quick stop, you said. In and out for a bounty..."

Pulling off his mask, Peter rubbed his face, feeling the stubble graze against his fingers. "Yeah, well, things got complicated," he admitted without looking at Revan. "Padmé needed my help, and I couldn't just walk away."

Revan leaned in closer, his form shimmering in the cockpit's light. "Ah, the queen," he mused, his smirk growing. "I saw your little farewell. Very touching, Mr. Star-Lord. She seems quite smitten with you as well."

"Knock it off, Revan," Peter groaned, his tone tired and annoyed. "It's not like that. She's... she's just a friend."

The force ghost chuckled. "Of course, just a friend. That's why you promised to message her anytime. For the political updates, right?"

Ignoring the jibe, Peter stared out into the star-studded void. "Sorry for leaving you cooped up in here all alone." He said, expertly changing the subject.

Revan's expression sobered slightly at his apprentice's care. "A few days alone won't kill me. I'm quite used to it by now. Besides, if the Jedi discovered a Sith force ghost lurking about, it would cause far too many problems."

Peter nodded slowly, "Yeah, I get it. I just feel bad for leaving you out." He said as he flipped a few switches and pushed a lever forward, engaging the hyperdrive.

The ship hummed as it picked up speed, the stars turning to streaks of light as they entered hyperspace.

Revan watched Peter, a brief, heartwarming smile flickering across his face. But before his apprentice could notice, his image dissolved completely, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts and the infinite stretch of space ahead.

Glancing back, Peter scoffed at the empty space where his master once stood, "Tsundere bastard…" he settled deeper into his seat, the weight of loneliness and the thrill of adventure mixing in his chest as he raced towards the unknown, hopeful for what he might find.

————

Counter-Earth…

In the sterile, dimly lit lab of the High Evolutionary, a small figure was suspended in mid-air, surrounded by a halo of holographic screens and buzzing devices.

This was no ordinary specimen; it was Rocket, a baby raccoon whose intelligence had just shattered all expectations. The High Evolutionary, a tall, imposing figure clad in a metallic suit, observed Rocket with a mix of shock and glee.

"Remarkable," High Evolutionary muttered to himself, his eyes flickering with data streams. "Absolutely remarkable. Your cognitive abilities have exceeded all other subjects."

Rocket, hanging in the air, scanned his surroundings with sharp, curious eyes. "Does that mean I did good?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

The High Evolutionary chuckled, pressing a button that gently lowered Rocket back into his cage. "You are truly one of a kind, 89P13," he said, still marveling at the results.

…

..

.

Rocket grunted as he was deposited back on the floor of his cage. Nearby, his friends—Lylla the otter, Teefs the wheelchair-bound walrus, and Floor the rabbit—waited eagerly for his return.

[Insert pictures of Lylla, Teefs, and Floor here]

Each friend was distinct: Lylla, with her sleek fur and intelligent eyes, Teefs, large and lumbering with tusks that seemed almost too big for his face, and Floor, petite with soft fur and kind eyes, now pacing nervously.

"Hey, Rocket, you alright?" Lylla asked, her voice laced with concern as she nudged him gently.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just the usual tests and stuff," Rocket replied, nudging her back, almost lovingly.

But sadly, their sweet moment was cut short when a guard approached Floor's cage. "Time for your check-up," he barked, his voice cold and devoid of empathy.

Floor trembled, her entire body shaking. "I... I don't want to go," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"…" Rocket watched, his heart sinking, as Floor was forcibly taken away, unable to do anything about it.

…

Hours passed before Floor finally returned, and the sight was heart-wrenching. She returned drastically changed; her mouth was obscured by a metal mask, and she now sported cold, mechanical spider-like appendages protruding from her sides.

Rocket rushed to her side. "Floor, what happened?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

Tears welled in her eyes, her body weak and exhausted. "It was horrible. They... they said I wasn't special like you, Rocket, so they had to make me special. It hurt so much," she choked out the words, the pain seared into her mind.

The group huddled around her, their spirits dampened by the stark reality of their existence. "And there's more," Floor continued, her voice a somber whisper. "I heard them talking afterward… They plan to incinerate all of us. A-And Rocket… they're gonna cut out your brain..."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Rocket's mind raced with anger and fear, but also determination. "No. We're not going to let that happen... We're getting out of here," he declared firmly.

The rest of the evening was spent in hushed planning. Using bits of wire and scraps from their cages, they began crafting rudimentary tools.

Lylla used her dexterity to shape the materials, Teefs provided the muscle to bend and break the tougher parts, and Rocket, with his intelligence, devised a plan that might just work.

"We'll need to short-circuit the security panel. Once that's done, it's a straight shot to the ventilation shafts. They lead right outside," Rocket explained, pointing out the paths on a crudely drawn map.

Floor, despite her weakened state, nodded in agreement. "What do we have to lose? We're gonna die anyways…"

As night deepened and the lab grew quiet, the four friends lay together in the center of their cage, staring up at the ceiling.

"Tomorrow, we make our move," Rocket stated, his voice resolute and hopeful. "Into the forever and beautiful sky…"

A/N: 2534 words :)

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