C141 An Apprentices Gratitude

C141 An Apprentices Gratitude

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After taking the unconscious Maul back to his ship and locking him up under the suspicion-filled gazes of his two Jedi Masters, Peter bid them goodnight and headed straight to his bedroom.

Once inside, he locked the door shut and immediately called for his Sith master. “Revan...”

A second later, the red-tinted Force ghost of Revan appeared, his expression one of confusion. "You called, Peter? I thought you said to stay out of sight while the Jedi were around..."

Peter sighed, sitting down on his bed. "I know. But I needed to talk to you. I’ve seen things today that... well, it makes me realize just how different you are from other Sith."

Revan’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What have you seen?"

Peter recounted the visions he had experienced, detailing the horrific memories of Maul’s upbringing and the brutal training he had endured under Sidious.

As he spoke, Revan listened intently, his smirk growing by the second. "So, has my apprentice finally realized how good he’s had it all these years?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Peter looked a bit sheepish and turned his head away. “...”

In the past, he had often called Revan a crazed maniac for the way he trained him—always with violence and the constant threat of danger. But after seeing Maul's training at the hands of Sidious, Peter began to understand just how fortunate he had been.

Revan never hurt him outside of sparring, and he certainly never tortured him in any way. The most he had done was exhaust him through rigorous training and beat him in spars, which, in hindsight, Peter wouldn’t really count as torture, though it had felt like it at the time.

Realizing all of this, Peter bowed deeply to his master, his voice filled with sincerity. "I apologize for the way I treated you in the past, and for the rude thoughts I may have had at the time. Seeing what Maul went through... it made me understand. Like you said, I had it good... Thank you for everything you’ve done for me."

As he bowed, his head low, Peter couldn’t see it, but Revan’s eyes widened for a moment before a genuine smile graced his face. Not a smirk or an evil grin, but a wholehearted, warm smile. But just as it appeared, the smile vanished.

Revan, not accustomed to shows of affection as he was a Sith, quickly brushed off Peter’s heartfelt gratitude. "If you’re truly grateful, then we should resume your training soon. Just because you’re not a Jedi Padawan anymore doesn’t mean you’re no longer my apprentice. You still have much to learn..."

Standing up straight, Peter nodded, his own smile returning. "We can start once the Jedi aren’t around anymore. I’ve slacked off a bit, I admit."

"Very well," Revan said with a curt nod. "Don’t let this little vacation of yours make you soft. We will begin again soon."

With that, Revan’s ghostly form unceremoniously vanished, leaving Peter alone in the room.

As his master left so abruptly, Peter muttered with a smirk on his face, "That old bastard is such a tsundere..."

Revan might have thought he had successfully hidden his smile, but the droids on the ship frequently clean and polish the floors. As a result, Peter could easily see his master's heartfelt smile reflected in the metal...

...

As Peter hopped into bed, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion of the day, his mind began to wander. He suddenly recalled that he had forgotten to ask Revan about Maul, and how he could possibly turn him away from the dark side, or at the very least, make him more like them.

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After all, the Dark Side wasn’t inherently bad. Peter and Revan both used it to some extent, and Peter had come to understand its nuances.

But for someone like Maul, who had completely given himself over to the Dark Side, it might be best to go cold turkey.

Peter nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with strategies for each location. "We need to assign teams based on each target. I’ll handle Arnim Zola myself...” He said as he began pointing around the room, giving everyone their roles.

“Magneto and the brotherhood can take on Strucker....”

“Coulson can take a few Jedi to handle Octavian Bloom...”

“Fury, Tony, and Peggy’s trusted agents can take the Banker...”

“The Professor and his people can deal with the Sheikh...”

“Grandmaster Yoda and a couple of Jedi can take the Baroness...”

“Doctor List will need some discretion, as we don’t know who among him is Shield or Hydra, so Peggy should take Windu and Mystique. With Mystique masquerading as Pierce and Windu dressed as Fury, you should be able to get to him without any problems. Try to quietly extract Doctor List if you can. If not, then rely on Master Windu to get out safely...”

“Malick will need some serious stealth, as he’s a high-level figure in the government, so let’s leave him for the Black Widows...”

“And finally, my crew can easily handle Whitehall on their own...” Peter finished, adding, “Oh, and if anyone feels they may need the extra help, ask Grandmaster Yoda to lend your team a Jedi or two. There’s plenty to go around...”

Peggy nodded, impressed by the quick thinking. "Alright, let’s finalize the teams and prepare for the assault. This is our best chance to dismantle Hydra once and for all."

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, the atmosphere charged with anticipation and determination. The battle plans were set, and they were ready to strike at the heart of Hydra, ensuring no head would remain, leaving only the body, which would fall soon after.

...

As the meeting concluded, everyone in the room began to prepare for their respective missions.

Peter stood at the edge of the room, watching as his allies and friends moved out to their targets. He knew that their success hinged on their coordination and timing. With a deep breath, he made his way to his ship, ready to embark on his solo mission to Camp Lehigh.

As he approached his ship, he saw his grandparents waiting for him, their faces etched with worry. They rushed up to him, their concern evident, as they’ve heard all sorts of stories about Hydra from WW2.

"Peter, are you really going alone?" his grandmother asked, her gaze moving around the hangar, where the other groups were preparing set off. "Everyone else seems to have a team, except you..."

Peter gave them a reassuring smile, trying to ease their anxiety. "I’ll be fine, Grandma. I chose to go alone for a reason."

His grandfather frowned, not entirely convinced. "What reason? Why do you have to do this by yourself?"

Peter hesitated for a moment, not wanting to reveal the true danger he was facing. "Because I can handle it. Trust me, I know what I’m doing."

Of course, he wasn’t lying, but that wasn’t the true reason he was going alone. The real reason was that he knew exactly how Zola would react; he had seen it in the movies in his past life.

Once Zola realized he was compromised, he would blow up all of Camp Lehigh, killing himself and everyone inside. With this in mind, Peter decided it would be best to go alone, allowing him to move more freely without the concern of anyone else getting hurt.

His grandparents exchanged worried glances but ultimately nodded, understanding that Peter wouldn’t be swayed. "Just be careful, Peter," his grandfather said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come back to us safely."

Peter nodded, his smile softening. "I will. I promise."

With one last look at his grandparents, Peter boarded his ship. As the engines roared to life, he glanced back to see them standing there, their expressions a mix of pride and concern. He gave them a final wave before the ship lifted off, shooting out of the hangar and into the sky.

A/N: 2122 words :)