C225 Caught

C225 Caught

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Peter set Padmé down gently, his hands lingering briefly on her shoulder as if to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. She smiled up at him, her relief still evident in her tear-filled eyes. Peter offered her a small nod before turning his attention to the room, his sharp gaze quickly assessing the situation.

His eyes landed on the two robed figures across from him—Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Recognition flickered behind his mask. He knew them well from the Jedi Temple, though he was confident they wouldn’t recognize him in his mask.

Still, he had to be cautious, especially with Obi-Wan. The two had shared a friendly rapport back at the Temple, and Peter couldn’t risk giving away his identity.

Peter’s gaze shifted again, landing on Jar Jar Binks standing awkwardly behind the Jedi. He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. ‘Jar Jar?’ he thought. ‘Of all people to run into here...’

Peter had never been a fan of Jar Jar—not a hater, but certainly not an admirer either. In his past life, he’d thought of the Gungan as a clumsy gag character, meant to lighten the tone of the Star Wars films.

The backlash from the fanbase, however, was another story. Many fans outright despised Jar Jar, calling him unfunny, unnecessary, and one of the franchise’s biggest missteps.

But as Peter studied Jar Jar now, something felt... off. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Peter felt a strange sense of unease. It was as if Jar Jar wasn’t quite the fool he pretended to be. But then Jar Jar gave one of his trademark dumb grins, his eyes wide and vacant.

Peter hesitated. ‘Maybe I’m just imagining things.’

Before Peter could dwell further on the oddity, Qui-Gon stepped forward, breaking the silence with his calm, authoritative voice. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn, a Jedi Master,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “This is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and our companion, Jar Jar Binks.”

Peter returned the gesture, his tone casual. “Star-Lord,” he said simply, not offering any further explanation. He glanced at Jar Jar again before refocusing on Qui-Gon. “Nice to meet you.”

Padmé turns to Peter, gesturing toward the shaking Viceroy. “They’re trying to take Gunray from us,” she explained to Peter, her voice firm and resolute. “He must answer for his crimes here in Naboo.”

Qui-Gon’s gaze shifted to the Viceroy, then back to Padmé. His voice remained calm but firm as he replied, “Your Majesty, I understand your frustration. But the Viceroy must be taken into Republic custody. He will face trial for his actions, as is the proper course under galactic law.”

Captain Panaka strode to Padmé’s side, his blaster still in hand. His voice carried a sharp note of defiance. “With all due respect to the Republic and the Jedi, this is Naboo. Justice for the people of Naboo will be served by our own hand.”

Padmé nodded in agreement, her anger bubbling to the surface. “Naboo deserves justice—our justice.”

Qui-Gon’s expression softened, though his voice retained its measured calm. “I understand how you and the people of Naboo feel, Your Majesty, but the Jedi are peacekeepers. Our role is to ensure justice through diplomacy, not vengeance.”

Before the debate could escalate further, Peter raised a hand, cutting through the tension with a light but commanding tone. “Okay, okay, hold on,” he said, a smirk evident even through his mask. “Why don’t we ask the guy with the big stick what he thinks?”

Theodore Roosevelt famously said, “Speak softly and carry a big stick,” a philosophy Peter wholeheartedly embraced. In his case, the “big stick” referred to his warship and army, which were currently scouring the city, systematically eradicating every trace of the Trade Federation.

The room fell into a brief, tense silence. Qui-Gon turned his gaze to Peter, his calm demeanor unshaken. “And how exactly do you fit into this conflict, Star-Lord? Are you here as an ally to Naboo, or do you have your own interests at heart?”

Peter tilted his head slightly, his glowing red masked eyes meeting Qui-Gon’s steady gaze. “Let’s just say I don’t like bullies,” he replied smoothly. “And when I see someone picking on a planet full of innocent people, I tend to get... involved.”

Obi-Wan stepped forward, his gaze sharp with skepticism as he fixed it on Peter. “And how, exactly, are you involved? Because from where I’m standing, you come across as nothing more than an opportunist.”

Peter’s mask tilted as if raising an eyebrow. “Opportunist?” he echoed, amusement lacing his tone. “That’s a fancy way of saying I’m actually doing something about the problem.”

Obi-Wan’s frown deepened, his voice sharp. “So you admit to using this crisis to take advantage of this planet and its Queen—”

Peter reached a hand around her waist. “It’s okay,” he said calmly. “They’re on our side.”

Optimus Prime stepped forward, his deep, commanding voice cutting through the tension. “The city has been purged of all Trade Federation forces,” he reported.

Bumblebee turned his gaze to Peter, his voice laced with curiosity. “Are these people enemies?”

Peter glanced at the Jedi, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t know,” he said, his tone casual. “Are you?”

The room fell silent as the Jedi exchanged uncertain glances. Obi-Wan’s grip tightened on his lightsaber, but before he could act, Qui-Gon placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression resigned.

“That’s enough, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

“But Master—”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “We can’t win this fight.”

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber, the blade retracting with a soft hiss. Qui-Gon stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “No,” he said firmly, meeting Peter’s gaze. “We’re not your enemies.”

Peter nodded, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. “Good answer.” He turned to Optimus. “You heard the man. Lower your guns.”

Optimus gave a slight nod, and the Autobots complied, their weapons retracting as they stood at attention, awaiting further orders.

Peter gestured toward the unconscious Viceroy. “Take him to the ship. Put him in a holding cell.”

One of the Autobots stepped forward, scooping up Gunray’s limp form with ease. The Viceroy stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open as he realized what was happening.

“No! No! Jedi! Help me!” he screamed, his voice filled with desperation.

The Autobot ignored him, transforming into a sleek starfighter with the Viceroy securely locked inside its cockpit. With a roar of its engines, the jet shot out of the palace, leaving the Jedi to watch helplessly.

Peter turned back to Padmé, who seemed conflicted as she watched Gunray leave, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice gentle. “We’ll deal with him later. Right now, we’ve got bigger problems.” He gestured to Optimus. “Queen Padmé Amidala, meet Optimus Prime. He’s going to help you take back Naboo.”

Optimus inclined his head. “Your Majesty, I am at your service. Together, we will ensure Naboo’s freedom.”

Padmé’s initial shock gave way to excitement as she turned to Peter. Without warning, she reached up and pulled his mask up just enough to reveal his lips. And as they appeared, she lunged forward and pressed a kiss to them, her passion and gratitude clear in the gesture.

Peter froze for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly responded, pulling her close and deepening the kiss, his arms wrapped around her waist.

When they finally broke apart, Padmé looked up at him, her cheeks flushed. “I love you,” she confessed softly.

Before Peter could respond, a loud clattering from down the hall interrupted them. They turned to see the rest of Peter’s crew—Tony Stark, Rocket, Groot, Natasha, Mikaela, and the others—standing there.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Well, this is awkward.”

Natasha and Mikaela, however, weren’t amused. Their eyes narrowed as they took in the sight of Padmé in Peter’s arms, their expressions darkening with jealousy.

“Who,” Natasha said, her voice dangerously low, “is she?”

A/N: 2151 words :)