C28 The Ruse of Peace

C28 The Ruse of Peace

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The creaking of metal against metal reverberated through the corridor as a prison cell door swung open. With a brutish shove, the Kree soldiers practically threw Nebula inside, causing her to stumble forward as the cell door slammed shut behind her.

Swiftly turning around, she yelled, "Let me out! You have no right to hold me!"

"Shut your mouth!" one of the soldiers shouted back, poking one of Nebula's confiscated batons through a gap in the door, sending her crashing to the floor, convulsing from the electricity.

"Haha!" Their laughter, cold and mocking, trailed off as they backed away from the cell, taking the baton with them.

Alone, Nebula found herself sprawled across the cold, hard floor, pain radiating from every injury she had endured. She pushed herself up, and with a fierce cry, she unleashed her frustration on the unyielding door, kicking it repeatedly as if her sheer will could break through the durasteel.

*bang... bang... bang...* Each thud was a release, a desperate attempt to vent the anger and hurt that boiled within her.

But as her energy waned, so too did the fire of her anger, leaving in its wake a crushing sense of despair. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling not just from exertion but from the onslaught of emotions she struggled to contain.

Nebula sank to the floor, her back against the cold, unforgiving metal, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why?" she whispered to the uncaring walls, the question barely audible. "Why is my life always like this?"

The echo of her own voice in the empty cell was the only answer she received. Exhausted and defeated, Nebula curled up on the floor, the tears that she had fought so hard to keep at bay now flowing freely.

And in the quiet of her cell, accompanied only by the echo of her sobs, Nebula was struck by a saddening realization: no matter where she went, and no matter how hard she tried, life always seemed to find a way to knock her back down.

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Meanwhile, as Nebula was getting locked away, Peter and Windu sat across from Ronan the Accuser, the soldiers that followed them waited outside, guarding the door to the opulent meeting room.

Despite the gravity of the moment, Peter couldn't help but scrutinize Ronan, his instincts tingling with skepticism. 'His smile is creeping me out...'

Ronan's initial words were laced with a veneer of gratitude, his voice smooth, almost disarming. "I commend the Republic's efforts in seeking peace amidst such trying times as these no doubt are. The sacrifices made by all parties have not gone unnoticed, especially by me."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Ronan's cordial demeanor seemed at odds with everything he knew about the man—a warmonger whose hands were stained with the blood of countless innocents. 'This isn't the Ronan I expected,' he thought, wary of the words that felt too polished, too rehearsed.

As the conversation began, Peter decided to cut to the chase, uncomfortable with Ronan's odd behavior. "Let's not dance around the topic. You know why we're here. So... is the Kree Empire willing to negotiate peace?"

As Ronan exited the room, leaving the two to ponder their next moves, Peter turned to Windu, a mix of frustration and annoyance in his voice. "Honestly, even though I was scared we'd get ambushed and have to fight our way out of here, I kind of wish we had. Anything would've been better than the cruel and unusual torture we just experienced..."

Windu, with a slight scoff that carried a world of agreement, nodded. "It's clear that the Kree have no intentions of peace. This was nothing more than a charade to appease the Republic. They're simply stalling and playing games to ensure that we don't join the war."

Peter let out a small chuckle. "Yeah right, like the Senate would ever vote to join someone else's war out of the kindness of their hearts. The Republic doesn't even have a standing army..." He said, 'At least not yet...'

"True, it's unlikely, but it's always possible... The Republic could decide to build an army at any time, after all."

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As Peter and Windu were led back through the metallic corridors of the Kree flagship, Peter's thoughts were far from the failed negotiation, refusing to let Ronan the Accuser get to him.

Instead, a haunting image lingered in his mind, that of a young girl, her face marred by distress and weariness, being dragged away by the guards. Something about her struck a chord within him, a flicker of familiarity that he couldn't quite put a finger on.

After some thought, Peter turned to the soldiers escorting them, a mix of concern in his voice. "What happened to that girl from earlier? Is she alright?"

With a sadistic smile, one of the soldiers replied, "We gave her a good thrashing, shocked her a bit for fun, then tossed her in a cell. She's probably still there, licking her wounds."

Peter felt a surge of rage, recalling his time in captivity. Beside him, Windu's expression hardened, though his stance remained controlled, a stark contrast to Peter's emotional state.

Without warning, Peter's arms shot out, a telekinetic force unseen yet powerful slamming the soldiers into the nearby, metal walls. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious before they could even comprehend what had happened.

Windu, taken aback, stared at Peter. "What are you doing?!" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of admonishment.

Peter, undeterred, shot back, "Doing what a real Jedi would do." He approached a soldier, still dazed on the ground, and gave him a sharp slap to the face, jolting him awake.

Windu watched, speechless as Peter leaned in, his focus intense. Then, with a wave of his hand and a calm yet commanding tone, he spoke, "Where is the prison? And which part of it is the girl in? Explain in detail..."

Windu's mouth dropped open as the soldier's eyes glazed over, and responded with the precise location, his voice devoid of its earlier sadistic pleasure.

With the information he needed, Peter bashed the soldier's head against the wall, sending him to sleep alongside his comrades. Turning away, he marched down the hall, headed towards the prison.

"Peter stop!" Windu commanded, his voice firm.

"..." But Peter didn't reply and continued walking, leaving Windu to decide whether to follow him or not...

Sighing, Windu took a deep breath before trailing after his padawan, knowing that he would later regret his decision. 'This kid will be the death of me...'

A/N: 1887 words :)