I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

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Peter stood at the bars of Darth Maul's cell, his expression calm and unbothered as the Sith Lord glared at him with a burning hatred. "Hello there." He smiled in greeting, his tone casual.

Maul's sneer deepened, but he still said nothing, his yellow eyes filled with burning defiance. His hatred simmered beneath the surface, like a coiled serpent ready to strike at the first opportunity.

"I have a proposition for you," Peter began again, his voice even, betraying none of the weight behind his words. When Maul didn't respond, Peter continued, undeterred. "But before we get to that, I have some questions. A few things I need to be cleared up."

Maul's eyes narrowed further, his lip curling in disdain, though he remained silent. His body was tense, his muscles coiled with barely contained fury, but he refused to give Peter the satisfaction of a response.

Peter shrugged and leaned against the cell bars, his tone casual, as if they were merely having a conversation over drinks instead of standing in the cold, unforgiving confines of a prison hold.

"I want to know more about your Sith Master," Peter said, feigning ignorance, though his voice carried a note of playful challenge. "Because, and no offense, but you don't really seem like the Master type. A lackey? Sure, but not a Master."

Maul's brow twitched at the insult, though he remained silent. His yellow eyes flared with fury, but still, he didn't speak. Peter smiled slightly, amused by Maul's stubbornness.

"So, what's he like?" Peter asked, grinning mischievously, as if he were a teenage girl asking about her friend's new boyfriend. "What's his name? Is he handsome? How big is his—"

"Stop this nonsense!" Maul exploded, his patience finally snapping, unable to take the humiliation any longer.

"What? I'm just asking a few questions…" Peter smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, spill the beans, girlfriend. What's he like?"

Maul's response was swift and sharp, his words dripping with venom. "You think you can understand the Sith? You're nothing but a pathetic fool, pretending to play in a world you can never comprehend."

Peter didn't flinch, didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he tilted his head thoughtfully, pretending to consider Maul's words. "Alright, so you're not answering. How about this: do you honestly believe your master cares for you?"

Maul's face twisted into a snarl, his anger flaring even hotter at the question. "You dare question my loyalty to my master?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. "My Master is power itself. He gave me strength beyond your wildest imagination. He made me what I am."

Peter let out a scoffing laugh. "Considering I'm the one who chopped off your arms and legs, I'd say he gave you power far below my imagination."

Maul seethed at Peter's words, his hands clenched into tight fists…

But before he could reply, Peter continued his line of questioning. "So did he ever care about you? Can you give me just one moment, one memory, where he showed you kindness? Where he treated you like you mattered to him, beyond being a tool for his ambitions?"

For the first time, Maul hesitated. His eyes flickered, a brief flash of uncertainty crossing his face. Peter could see the struggle playing out in the Sith Lord's mind as Maul searched his memories. Torturous training, harsh words, endless trials—that was all his master had given him. Power, yes, but nothing more. Not a single moment of compassion or care.

Maul's jaw clenched tightly, his body tense with frustration. He remained silent, refusing to give Peter the satisfaction of seeing him falter. But the silence was enough. Peter could read the answer in his eyes.

"I thought so," Peter said quietly, his voice carrying a small hint of sympathy.

Maul's body twitched, his rage bubbling just beneath the surface, but he said nothing. The truth that Peter had planted was undeniable, and it gnawed at him, festering like a wound he couldn't ignore. The one person he had devoted himself to, the master he had served without question, had never truly cared for him.

Before Maul could respond, something shifted in the room. The air thickened, darkened, and an overwhelming pressure began to build around them. Maul's sharp instincts immediately sensed it—the unmistakable power of the Dark Side. His yellow eyes widened in shock as Peter's own eyes began to glow, a bright, fiery yellow that mirrored his own.

The Dark Side surged from Peter like a tidal wave, crashing down on Maul with raw, unrelenting force. Maul had expected Peter to be strong, but this… this was something entirely different. He was suffocating under the weight of Peter's power, and for the first time in a long while, he felt fear creeping into his mind.

Fear of someone other than his Master…

"Surprised?" Peter asked, his voice low and calm, despite the overwhelming darkness he was exuding. "You see, the Force isn't as simple as light or dark. There's more to it than you know. And I can teach you."

Maul's mind raced, trying to process what was happening. Peter wasn't just wielding the Dark Side; he was commanding it with a mastery that even his former master, Darth Sidious, had never shown. The sheer magnitude of Peter's power left Maul speechless, his usual defiance replaced with disbelief.

Peter stepped closer, his eyes still glowing with that terrifying yellow light. "Here's my proposition," he said, his voice cutting through the oppressive air. "I'll take you as my apprentice. I'll teach you the true way of the Force—not just the dark or the light, but the Force itself. It's true nature."

'Though I'm still learning that myself…' Peter thought, though he knew enough to start Maul on the right path.

Maul's breath caught in his throat, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. An apprentice? To a Jedi?

'No, not a Jedi…' Maul had thought Peter was nothing more than a misguided Jedi, but now… now he was beginning to realize just how wrong he had been. Peter wasn't bound by the rules of the Jedi or the Sith. He was something else entirely. Something far more dangerous.

The weight of the Dark Side pressed harder against Maul, making it impossible for him to form a coherent response. The power surrounding him was so intense, so suffocating, that it felt like it was crushing him from the inside. Maul wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but the sheer force of Peter's presence was too much.

Seeing that Maul wasn't going to respond right away, Peter allowed himself a small, knowing smile. He slowly reined in his power, pulling back the overwhelming darkness that had filled the room. The pressure around Maul lessened, and he gasped for breath, realizing only now that he had been holding it in the entire time.

Peter's eyes flickered, the glow fading as they returned to their usual color. He stood tall, looking down at Maul with a calm, collected expression. "Think about it," Peter said softly. "I'll let you have some time to make your decision."

Peter turned to leave, the clank of his boots echoing through the cold metal of the prison hold. Just as he reached the door, Maul's voice cut through the silence, hoarse but resolute.

"I… accept."

Peter paused, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He turned his head slightly, just enough to glance back at the broken Sith Lord in the cell. "Good," Peter said, his voice filled with authority. "We'll begin your training soon."

Without looking back, Peter waved over his shoulder and exited the room, leaving Maul still locked in his cell. But Maul didn't care. He didn't expect to be released so easily, and he knew that if he wanted to out of this cell, he would need to bide his time.

He would become Peter's apprentice. And perhaps, when the time was right, he would find a moment to escape.

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As Peter left the prison hold, the door sliding shut behind him, he stepped into the hallway of his ship. The tension from his encounter with Maul still hung in the air like a faint echo, but it dissipated quickly when he spotted Tony leaning casually against the wall, arms folded, waiting for him.

Tony wasted no time. "So, I hear you're leaving."

Peter raised an eyebrow, surprised by the abrupt question. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Optimus," Tony replied, pushing off the wall with an easy shrug. "He mentioned he was leaving soon, and it didn't take much prodding for him to admit that he was joining your crew."

Peter sighed and gave a nod, confirming Tony's suspicion. "Yeah, I'll be leaving soon. Just a few things I need to take care of before I go." His mind briefly flickered to one particular task that he had both been dreading and eager to do since he arrived on Earth.

Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity flickering across his face as he studied Peter. "Where are you headed?"

Peter crossed his arms, leaning against the corridor wall. "I've got someone I need to visit and some things I need to handle. But mostly, I just travel around and do as I please. The galaxy's a big place, Tony. There's a lot to see, more than you'd imagine. You'd love it."

Tony nodded slowly, considering Peter's words. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something more, but then he suddenly paused, his expression shifting. Without warning, he turned away, waving his hand dismissively. "I've got something I need to take care of. Just… don't leave without me."

Peter blinked, taken aback. "Wait, what? Without you?" But Tony was already walking away, his footsteps echoing faintly in the hallway, not offering any further explanation or even a glance back.

Peter watched him disappear down the hallway, a puzzled expression lingering on his face. 'Does he mean, don't leave without saying goodbye, or don't leave without actually taking him along?'

The thought crossed Peter's mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what Tony Stark would be like as part of his crew. A part of him wasn't sure how taking Iron Man away from Earth would affect the planet's future.

Could the planet afford to lose Tony right now?

It was a question that lingered in his mind, but Peter wasn't one to dwell on uncertainty for long. 'Whatever happens, happens,' he thought, unbothered. 'Besides, the Jedi are here and Captain America is back…'

Sighing, Peter shrugged off the thought and continued toward his quarters. As he neared his room, however, another complication awaited him. He noticed two familiar figures standing outside the door, their arms crossed, both looking impatient and decidedly not happy.

Mikaela and Natasha.

The moment they saw him, they both spoke in unison, their voices laced with surprise, concern, and perhaps a little frustration. "You're leaving?!"

'Did Optimus tell everyone?!'

A/N: 1868 words :) Should Tony join the crew?

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