C183 War For Love/Decepticon Attack

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The next day dawned bright and early, but for Peter, there was no escaping the repercussions from the day before. As he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, he could already feel the shift in the air. There was a war brewing, and he was caught in the crossfire.

Natasha and Mikaela had declared their battle over him, and now they were taking every opportunity to stake their claim.

Peter sat down at the long dining table in the Red Room's main hall, grabbing a cup of coffee and some toast. But, It wasn't long before the quiet morning was shattered by the presence of both women entering the room—Natasha from the left, and Mikaela from the right. Both women locked eyes, and Peter instantly knew it was going to be one hell of a day.

"Good morning, Peter," Natasha said coolly, sliding into the seat beside him, her hand casually brushing his shoulder as she sat down.

"Morning," Mikaela chimed in, taking the seat on his other side, her tone equally casual but laced with tension as her gaze flickered over Natasha.

Peter sighed inwardly, taking a long sip of his coffee. 'Here we go.'

Breakfast turned into a silent battle of wills. Natasha leaned in closer than usual, occasionally whispering something in Peter's ear—nothing important, but the proximity was her weapon of choice.

Meanwhile, Mikaela would brush her fingers through Peter's hair or offer him extra food with a sweetness that was clearly an attempt to outshine Natasha.

By the time breakfast was over, Peter was both elated and exhausted, and he hadn't even started his day.

Next on his schedule while he waited for Alfred to find the Decepticons was morning training with Master Windu, and as much as he loved training, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief as he entered the training hall. At least here, under the watchful eye of his former master, there would be some semblance of peace.

Or so he thought.

Windu's stern face greeted him as he stepped onto the mat. "You're late," he said, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Master," Peter said, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he took his position. "Just... had a rough morning."

Windu raised an eyebrow. "I trust you're not letting distractions take control. You're a Jedi Knight, yes, but your training is far from complete. Even Masters like myself continue to strive for improvement."

"Of course, Master," Peter said, though even as he spoke, his senses flared. He could feel both Natasha and Mikaela's presence nearby, lingering just outside the hall. They were waiting, each from different corners, and he could feel their competitive energy burning through the Force.

Windu shot him a stern look, easily sensing his distraction and knowing exactly who was behind it. "Focus, Peter," he admonished, thinking, 'He really doesn't follow the Jedi Code at all...'

Peter nodded, steeling himself as he fell into the familiar rhythm of training. But even as he sparred with Windu, he couldn't fully block out the presence of the two women.

After training, Peter's next task was managerial work around the Red Room. As its owner, there were always matters to attend to. Repairs, upgrades, scheduling shifts for the personnel, and reviewing the day-to-day operations—it was all part of his role.

But, once again, Natasha and Mikaela found ways to interrupt. Natasha offered her help, tagging along as he checked on the maintenance crew, suggesting improvements, and making sure she was by his side at every opportunity. Mikaela wasn't far behind, shadowing his steps and offering her own ideas on how to improve the efficiency of the base.

Every time Peter tried to focus on a task, he felt their eyes on him, each one vying for his attention. By lunchtime, he was more than ready for a break.

As he sat down for lunch, his crew—Rocket, Teefs, Lylla, Floor, and Cosmo—joined him, providing a brief respite from the day's chaos. Rocket immediately noticed something was off, his sharp eyes flicking between Natasha, Mikaela, and Peter with suspicion.

"What's up with you, Quill?" Rocket asked, popping a piece of food into his mouth. "You look like you've been through the wringer."

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's just say it's been a long and beautiful morning."

Teefs snickered, clearly amused. "Musta been some rough training."

"Something like that," Peter muttered, but his words trailed off as both Natasha and Mikaela fawned over him. They sat close by, their competitive energy filling the space once again.

The crew watched the exchange, some of them exchanging knowing glances. It was clear that Peter was in for a long day.

…

The afternoon wasn't much better. Peter's personal training session, which he had hoped would offer him some peace, quickly turned into another battleground between Natasha and Mikaela.

It started when Natasha appeared first, entering the training hall just as Peter began his unarmed combat drills. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching him for a few moments before stepping forward with an air of confidence.

"Need some help with that form?" she asked casually, but there was a knowing smirk on her face.

Peter, mid-punch, raised an eyebrow but didn't stop. "My form's fine, Nat."

She shrugged, moving closer, her eyes locking onto his movements. "Could be better. I've had a lot of hand-to-hand combat experience. Let me give you some pointers."

She stepped into his space, close enough that he could feel the presence of her breast on his back. She didn't wait for his agreement, adjusting the positioning of his shoulders and hips. Her hands were firm, her close proximity deliberate.

"Loosen up a little," she said, her voice low as she leaned in close. "You're too tense. And here," she tapped his forearm lightly, "try to flow with the movement, not fight against it."

Peter smirked despite himself, feeling the heat from Natasha's touch and the softness on his back. She was good—no doubt about it. 'The Red Room taught her well…'

"Thanks for the tip," Peter said, rolling his shoulders and resetting his stance. He knew she was watching him closely, her eyes tracking every movement as he went through the drills again.

And as if on cue, Mikaela arrived not long after Natasha left. Peter had just begun his lightsaber training, executing a series of complex techniques, his breathing steady. When she walked into the training hall, her eyes immediately found his pitch-black lightsaber, and he could see the curiosity—and slight awe—in her gaze.

"What is that?" Mikaela asked, gesturing to the glowing blade in his hand.

Peter nodded, switching off the lightsaber and clipping it to his belt. "It's called a lightsaber."

Mikaela stepped closer, her eyes still fixed on the hilt. "I've heard a little about the Jedi since I've been here, but I never really believed it... until now. You have powers too, don't you?"

Peter smiled, sensing the intrigue in her voice. "Something like that. The Force—my connection to it—is what gives me those abilities."

Without warning, Peter extended his hand, using the Force to pull a nearby training droid from across the room into his grasp. The droid floated effortlessly in the air, hovering between them before Peter gently set it down on the floor. Mikaela's eyes widened, her lips parting in a mix of surprise and admiration.

"Wow…" she breathed, clearly impressed. "That's incredible."

Peter shrugged with a playful grin. "It comes in handy."

But Mikaela wasn't done. The competition between her and Natasha was momentarily forgotten as she watched Peter work, clearly fascinated by his powers. "Show me more," she said, stepping back to give him room. "I want to see everything that you can do."

Peter, sensing her eagerness, ignited his lightsaber once more, its familiar hum filling the room. He went through a series of rapid strikes and parries, his movements fluid and precise as the blade cut through the air. The room seemed to glow with the power of the Force as he moved, demonstrating both his saber skills and his mastery of the Force in a seamless display.

Mikaela watched intently, her eyes never leaving him. Peter could feel her admiration, but also the growing realization that she was in the presence of something far beyond what she had imagined.

As he finished the routine, extinguishing the saber and turning to face her, he saw the look of awe still etched on her face.

"I didn't know you were capable of... all that," she admitted, stepping closer, her voice softer now.

Peter chuckled, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "It's not exactly something I show off on the first date."

Mikaela smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Well, is this the second date then?"

"Not quite," he replied with a smirk. "I'm still holding out for that ride in your new car…"

Peter grinned, knowing that the competition between the two women was far from over. Deep down, he couldn't deny how much he enjoyed it—even if it was a little exhausting.

…

By the time evening rolled around, he spent some time with Groot, Howard, and the rest of his crew, enjoying the brief break from the chaos. But as dinner approached, he knew that it wouldn't be long before Natasha and Mikaela resumed their competition.

It was only during dinner that things settled slightly. But Peter knew the calm wouldn't last.

After dinner, Peter finally made his escape. He had been planning for this moment all day—his secret training sessions with Revan would begin again. And unlike his other commitments, this one was private. The girls wouldn't be able to interrupt him here, and honestly, he needed the break.

In a hidden chamber deep within the Red Room, the ghostly Sith Lord stood in the darkness. His eyes, gleaming red, locked onto Peter the moment he entered.

"You're late," Revan spoke, his voice echoing ominously in the chamber.

"I know," Peter replied, bowing his head slightly. "It's been a… complicated day."

Revan's spectral form stepped closer, his presence cold and unyielding. "Complicated? It seems to me you've been distracted. You've been slacking long enough."

Peter straightened, his jaw tightening. "I haven't been slacking. I've been training."

Revan's ghostly figure circled him, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Not enough. You've allowed yourself to become soft, which is why I won't be going easy on you today..."

Peter took a deep breath, calming himself as he felt Revan's cold presence seep into his bones. "I'm here now, Master. Let's get started."

For the next hour, Revan pushed Peter harder than he ever had. The training was relentless—dark, consuming, and brutal. Every strike, every use of the Force, was met with Revan's cold criticisms, his ghostly form showing no mercy as he drilled Peter over and over.

"You've been slacking," Revan sneered after one particularly harsh session, his gaze narrowing. "If you keep this up, you'll be nothing more than a fool with power you don't deserve."

Peter wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. "I haven't forgotten my training."

"Then why do you seem weaker than the last time we trained together?" Revan growled, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

Peter paused, still catching his breath, and then—he smirked. "I'll get back in shape by our next training session, I swear."

"What about those girls?" Revan asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've seen them following you around all day, even distracting you during your Jedi training..."

"I know," Peter nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. "But, as annoying as it is, I can't help but find it incredibly hot that two women are fighting over me."

Revan stared at him for a long moment, clearly unimpressed by Peter's answer. "You're a fool," the Sith Lord said flatly, but the training session continued without further comment.

As they neared the end of their session, Peter and Revan both paused, sensing the familiar presence of Natasha and Mikaela outside the chamber. The two women passed by, searching for him, but they didn't find his hidden training room.

Revan turned to Peter, his expression unreadable. "You're putting up with this nonsense for that reason?"

Peter grinned, wiping the last of the sweat from his brow. "Yep. It's a little annoying, sure. But it's also kind of… well, you know."

Revan sighed in exasperation. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought."

Peter just laughed, leaning back as the tension of the day finally eased. "Maybe. But I'd rather be a happy fool than a miserable monk like the Jedi..."

————

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the air around Sector 7 was still and quiet, the vast expanse of the Hoover Dam standing as a sentinel over the secret base hidden beneath.

For hours, the Decepticons had been scouting the area, their towering, metallic forms blending with the shadows as they prepared for their assault. Now, with the light of day gone, Megatron gave the signal.

With a thunderous boom, the entrance to the massive bunker exploded inward, the heavy steel doors crumpling like paper under the sheer force of their weapons.

Flames and smoke billowed out as Decepticon forces surged forward, their massive frames stomping through the shattered remnants of the entrance.

The guards stationed outside had no chance. They barely had time to react before they were gunned down by the relentless firepower of the Decepticons.

Barricades and fortified positions were reduced to rubble, and within moments, the once-imposing defense crumbled under the brutal efficiency of Megatron's army.

The alarm blared through the base, echoing off the concrete walls and alerting everyone inside. But what the Decepticons didn't know was that there was a second alarm—one they hadn't anticipated.

Far away, in the quiet confines of the Red Room, a small device hidden within Peggy Carter's office began to blink. The silent alarm, triggered by the breach at Sector 7, was now sending its signal to her.

Peggy had been waiting for this.

When she had first learned of the Decepticons' search for the AllSpark, she had a hunch that they would eventually find Sector 7, where the Cube had once been held. And so, she had prepared. She had made sure to set up a silent alarm at the facility, one that would notify her the moment any breach occurred.

Now, that moment had come.

Peggy sat at her desk, her expression unreadable as the alarm silently blinked. For a moment, she simply stared at it, her mind racing through the implications. "…"

Taking a deep breath, she reached for her briefcase, snapping it open with a quick motion. Built inside was a laptop, her hands moving swiftly as tapped a few keys.

The screen flickered to life, displaying a live feed from Sector 7. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight before her.

The video feed showed the Decepticons in full force—massive, towering figures tearing through the base's defenses with ease.

The guards were being cut down in mere seconds, their weapons useless against the alien invaders. Explosions rocked the screen, and Peggy's fingers tightened on the laptop as she watched the chaos unfold.

For a moment, Peggy was frozen in place, her mind grappling with the scale of the threat she was witnessing. She had seen Bee, but seeing an entire army of Decepticons was another thing entirely. Their sheer size, their power—it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

Suddenly, the voice of Alfred, the Red Room's new AI assistant, filled the room, his tone calm yet urgent. "Ma'am," Alfred said, "you should inform Master Peter about this immediately."

"!?" Peggy jolted slightly, the sudden intrusion of the voice catching her off guard.

A/N: 2641 words :)

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