Chapter 212: C211 Tatooine
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Life aboard the Atlas began to settle into a rhythm as the crew adjusted to their new home among the stars. The massive ship thrummed with quiet energy, its corridors filled with bustling droids and the occasional thudding footsteps of the Transformers.
Peter made his rounds, checking in with his crew.
Rocket muttered under his breath as a pair of droids zoomed by, nearly knocking over his toolkit. "These damn things are everywhere! I can't get a moment's peace."
Teefs chuckled from where he was tinkering with a panel nearby. "Relax, Rocket. Think of 'em as little buddies. They ain't so bad once ya teach 'em to do what you want."
Elsewhere on the ship, Bumblebee, Optimus, and the other Transformers settled in. Adjusting to a life without war was unfamiliar to them, and following someone other than Optimus or Megatron felt even stranger. However, they were slowly but steadily learning to adapt.
In another corner of the ship, Tony Stark was setting up his new workspace, already cluttered with half-built gadgets and spare armor parts. Peter stopped by, eyeing the chaos.
Tony glanced up and grinned. "Word of advice: don't touch anything unless you want the ship to explode."
Peter shook his head, amused. "Noted."
Meanwhile, Natasha and Mikaela were begrudgingly adjusting to their new room arrangements.
"I am not sharing a room with her," Natasha grumbled.
Mikaela crossed her arms. "Trust me, I'm not thrilled about it either."
Leaning casually against the doorway, Peter smirked. "Well, consider it the price you pay for stowing away on my ship. Just try not to kill each other before we reach our destination."
Of course, it wasn't just about punishment. Peter hoped that sharing a room might force them to get along. 'Then again, there's always the chance they'll kill each other instead…' But he doubted that would happen… right?
…
Later, Peter called a meeting in the Atlas war room, the core of their operations. Holographic maps floated above the table as his crew gathered around.
"First order of business," Peter began, "we need to make it out of Wild Space without getting torn to bits."
Natasha leaned forward, intrigued. "Where are we headed after that?"
"Naboo," Peter answered simply. "But we'll make a few stops along the way."
The room fell silent for a moment as Rocket, Groot, and the other original crew members exchanged knowing glances. They all knew exactly why they were headed to Naboo: Padmé Amidala.
Natasha and Mikaela noticed the looks and gave the crew suspicious glances in return. "What's with them?" Natasha whispered to Mikaela.
Mikaela narrowed her eyes. "I don't know, but I don't like it. Whatever it is…"
Peter ignored the growing tension, thinking. 'Beyond Naboo, we have a longer-term goal now…'
In truth, his real mission was to track down and absorb more of his father's seeds—like the one on Earth. He realized that the power boost from that first seed had made him stronger, both physically and in the force, and he couldn't shake the temptation to see how powerful he could become by absorbing more.
But that was a secret he wasn't ready to share yet.
Instead, Peter changed the subject. "Rocket suggested stopping by Knowhere, but not yet. We'll get there eventually. I've got a few other stops I want to make first."
Rocket shrugged, not pressing the issue, but Tony perked up, clearly intrigued. "Knowhere? What's that?"
"It's our base of operations. A space station city." Peter explained. "We commandeered it from a guy named the Collector. You'd probably enjoy seeing his collection…"
"Collection?" Tony repeated, his interest fully piqued now.
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Later that evening, Peter pulled Natasha and Mikaela aside for a quiet conversation. They hadn't had a chance to really talk about their decision to stow away, given how Peter had spent most of the day "punishing" them for sneaking aboard.
Peter leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "So, mind telling me why you two hid in that crate? You were both invited, you know."
Natasha shifted, her usual confidence faltering for a moment. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave at first," she admitted. "But staying behind… it felt like abandoning you. In the end, we just wanted to surprise you."
Mikaela nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear. "It was tough leaving my dad behind, but I knew I'd regret it if I didn't come with you." She smirked, adding playfully, "Besides, I can't let Natasha get too far ahead of me."
Natasha rolled her eyes, though there was a rare smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Keep dreaming."
Peter smiled warmly at both of them. "I'm glad you're here. But you both need to know—space isn't going to be easy. Things are going to get dangerous."
Natasha and Mikaela exchanged a glance, then turned back to Peter, their expressions resolute. "We can handle it," Natasha said confidently. "Well, I can. I don't know about her…"
"Hey, I can handle it too… I think." Mikaela scowled at Natasha. "Either way, I'm in this for the long haul."
Peter's heart swelled with gratitude. He pulled both women into a brief, heartfelt embrace. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere without either of you."
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The next day…
The Atlas sailed smoothly through the expanse of Wild Space, passing vibrant nebulas, shimmering anomalies, and strange celestial phenomena that danced against the endless backdrop of stars.
The ship's engines hummed with power, propelling them toward the edge of the Unknown Regions. By the end of the day, they would leave the dangers of Wild Space behind.
That morning, Peter made his way to the training room, mentally preparing himself for the challenge of training his two unlikely apprentices: Darth Maul and the Ancient One.
The training room aboard the Atlas was massive, designed to accommodate not just Jedi training but also the size and movements of Transformers. In the center of the room, droids hovered quietly, ready to assist at a moment's notice.
Maul was already waiting—though not by choice. He sat slouched in a chair, his expression simmering with barely concealed rage. His once-powerful frame was now reduced to a broken form—no arms, no legs, only seething hatred keeping him intact.
The droid that wheeled him into the room stood silently beside him, as if sensing the volatile emotions swirling in the air.
Peter approached with a calm, amused smile. "Comfortable?"
Maul's yellow eyes burned with defiance. "What are we waiting for?" he snapped, his voice filled with bitterness.
Peter's smile widened. "Patience, Maul. You'll find I have a lot of it. But you?" He tilted his head, his expression playful but dangerous. "Not so much."
Maul glared at him. "You mock me."
"No," Peter said, his voice light with amusement. "Not yet. But I will."
Peter leaned casually against the wall, glancing toward the center of the training room. "We're waiting for one more person."
Maul let out a low growl, irritation simmering beneath the surface. "Who?" he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. "How many pathetic fools have you tricked into calling you master?"
Peter's eyes sparkled with amusement as he stared straight at Maul. "Just one."
As Peter finished speaking, a shimmering golden portal began to materialize across the room.
Peter smirked. 'Right on time.'
The portal twisted open with a soft hum, and from its glowing center stepped the Ancient One, her yellow monk's robes flowing behind her. She surveyed the room with calm amusement, her gaze landing on Peter with a subtle twinkle in her eye.
"Master," she greeted with a serene bow, the ghost of a smile on her lips.
Peter returned the bow with a playful grin. "Right on time."
Maul's eyes widened, disbelief flickering across his face. The presence of the Ancient One unsettled him. He could feel the weight of her power, and it infuriated him that Peter had such a being as his apprentice alongside him.
Peter turned to Maul with a smirk. "Maul, meet your fellow apprentice, the Ancient One."
Maul's sneer deepened. "This is who we were waiting for? An old woman?"
The Ancient One arched an eyebrow but said nothing, finding amusement in Maul's disrespect. Peter, on the other hand, simply chuckled.
"You're off to a great start," Peter said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, let's get to it."
He clapped his hands together. "Your first task: 100 laps around the training room."
The Ancient One hesitated for only a second before giving a small shrug. She had chosen to take Peter as her master, and she intended to follow through with her decision. Without complaint, she started jogging, her robes swaying gently with each step.
Peter watched her for a moment, impressed by her willingness. He then turned to Maul, his expression expectant. "Well? Why aren't you joining her?"
Maul glared at Peter, glancing down at the stubs where his legs once were. "Are you mocking me again?" he hissed. "I have no legs."
Peter's grin widened mischievously. "Then roll."
Maul's eyes darkened with fury. "You cannot be serious."
Peter stepped closer, and in an instant, his presence in the Force shifted. His playful demeanor melted away as he tapped into the Dark Side. His eyes glowed with a dangerous yellow, and the oppressive weight of his power crashed down on Maul like a tidal wave.
"I don't care how you do it," Peter whispered, his voice filled with dark promise. "Roll. Crawl. Drag yourself with your teeth if you have to. But you will finish those 100 laps."
The air around them grew heavy with the weight of Peter's command, and for the second time since meeting Peter, Maul felt something unsettling—fear. The intensity of Peter's Dark Side presence was suffocating, far more than Maul had expected from someone so young.
Terrified and humiliated, Maul gritted his teeth. He had no choice but to comply. With a low growl, he dropped out of his chair and started his laps, dragging himself across the floor.
Peter watched him go, satisfied. "That's the spirit, Maul," he called out, his eyes still gleaming with amusement.
The Ancient One glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of mild curiosity. She seemed to enjoy the strange dynamic between Peter and Maul, though she kept her thoughts to herself.
As she continued her laps, Peter leaned against the wall, his smirk lingering. Training was off to a good start—and it was only just beginning.
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Time passes…
The twin suns of Tatooine hung high in the sky, casting a harsh, unrelenting heat over the bustling streets of Mos Espa. The city buzzed with excitement as the pod races were set to begin in the coming days—one of the few events that broke the monotony of life on the desert planet.
Inside Watto's cramped junk shop, a young Anakin Skywalker stood in front of his mother, Shmi, his wide blue eyes pleading with quiet determination.
"Mom, I can do it," Anakin insisted, his voice full of hope. "Watto said if I win, he'll give us a big cut of the prize money—and maybe… maybe enough to buy our way out of here."
Anakin had once hoped that Star-Lord would come to rescue them, just like in the stories. But as time went on, that hope slowly faded, and he realized he needed to become his own Star-Lord and free himself. And these pod races were his path to freedom.
Shmi knelt down in front of her son, her expression gentle but filled with worry. "Ani, I know you want to help, but it's too dangerous. If anything happens—"
"I'll be fine!" Anakin interrupted, his enthusiasm undeterred. "I'm the only human who can do it, remember?" His grin was bright, filled with the kind of unshakable belief only a child could possess.
Before Shmi could respond, a strange sound reverberated through the air—a low rumble, growing louder by the second.
The shop rattled slightly, and the noise outside shifted from excited chatter to shouts of confusion and alarm. People ran through the streets, some pointing toward the sky, others shouting warnings.
Anakin and Shmi exchanged a confused glance. "What's going on?" Shmi whispered, standing up and moving toward the door with Anakin following close behind.
As they stepped outside, they joined the growing crowd gathering in the streets, all eyes turned skyward. The sunlight glinted off something enormous—a colossal warship descending through the atmosphere, its engines emitting a thunderous roar. The ground beneath Mos Espa trembled as the ship broke through the clouds, casting an enormous shadow over the city.
The Atlas hovered ominously above the planet, its sleek, star-destroyer-like form cutting through the air like a behemoth.
People across Mos Espa cried out in fear, some shouting about an invasion, others running toward their homes or taking cover behind whatever they could find.
Even Watto buzzed nervously through the air, shouting at his workers to lock down the shop, his wings fluttering in agitation.
But Anakin wasn't afraid. He stood in awe, his heart pounding with excitement rather than fear. He stared at the enormous ship with wide eyes, captivated by its sheer size and majesty.
"It's… beautiful," Anakin whispered.
Shmi placed a protective hand on his shoulder, her brow furrowed with concern. "Ani, come inside—"
But Anakin didn't move. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the ship. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in his life—a marvel beyond anything in Watto's junkyard, beyond anything even in his wildest dreams.
A/N: 2300 Words :)
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