I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C154 Capsicle

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After some convincing and dodging Tony's pointed questions—because Peter definitely didn't want to explain why he needed to locate the protagonist of the Transformers movies, or that Sam Witwicky, if he existed in this world, was a potential protagonist of his own story—Peter finally managed to get Tony on board.

Tony, after a fair amount of prodding and a few jokes at Peter's expense, finally relented. "Alright, alright," Tony said, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his curiosity. "I'll get Jarvis on it. Shouldn't take long. You'll have your answer by tomorrow."

Peter flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Tony. I owe you one."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony waved him off, already walking off to deal with his Iron Man suit. 

With that settled, Peter left Tony to his work and made his way back to his ship. As he stepped inside, he felt a wave of anticipation wash over him. He had been eager to start experimenting with the AllSpark ever since he'd taken it from Sector 7. 

The possibilities of what it could do were endless, and he was itching to figure out how it worked and, more importantly, how to control it.

But just as he was about to set everything up, a different thought crossed his mind, something he'd planned to do ever since the Jedi left but had gotten sidetracked by all the chaos. 

He had promised himself that he would reunite Peggy and Steve, and with Bucky now awake, it felt like the perfect time to make good on that promise.

‘It's time to find Captain America…’ Peter hesitated, still tempted to play with his new toy, but ultimately he decided it was better to retrieve Capsicle now rather than later.

He knew exactly where to start. Captain America had crashed in the North Atlantic Ocean during World War II, where he was presumed lost, frozen in ice for over seventy years. With his ship's advanced sensors and technology, finding the precise location of the wreckage shouldn't be too difficult.

Peter settled into the pilot's seat, the AllSpark still hanging from his neck. With a determined look, he powered up the ship, the engines humming to life. As the hangar doors opened, he smoothly lifted off and soared into the sky, leaving the Red Room behind.

His ship shot through the clouds, the vast expanse of the North Atlantic stretching out before him. The icy waters below hid many secrets, but Peter was confident that he would find what he was looking for.

‘Time to bring the Capsicle back to life…’ Peter smirked to himself as he pushed the throttle forward, the ship accelerating as it homed in on the location where Steve Rogers had been lost to history.

…

..

. 

Peter spent the rest of the day flying over the vast expanse of the North Atlantic Ocean. The sky above was a steel-gray, matching the choppy waters below. 

His ship, equipped with some of the most advanced scanning technology this planet has ever seen, continuously scanned the depths beneath him, searching for any sign of the ship that had carried Captain America to his frozen fate.

The hours dragged on as Peter carefully combed the area. The ocean was a vast and unforgiving place, hiding its secrets beneath miles of cold, dark water. 

Peter hoped this would be easy, but it seems that he underestimated the size of the ocean. ‘Whatever, I’ll find him soon enough…’ The thought of reuniting Steve Rogers with Peggy, and giving the world its symbol of hope back, pushed him forward.

The ship's sensors pinged and whirred as they passed over one section of the ocean, then another. Occasionally, the scanners would pick up anomalies—large schools of fish, underwater formations, and even the occasional shipwreck—but nothing that matched the unique signature he was looking for. 

Time and again, Peter adjusted the ship's course, widening the search grid, refusing to give up.

The hours slipped by, the light beginning to fade as evening approached, but Peter remained focused, his eyes scanning the data that streamed across the ship's monitors. 

And finally, his heart skipped a beat when the sensors finally picked up something large and metallic, buried deep beneath the water’s surface.

“Bingo,” Peter muttered to himself, leaning forward to get a better look at the readings.

It was massive—easily the size of a small galactic battleship. The shape and size matched the descriptions of the Valkyrie, the aircraft that Steve had crashed into the ocean all those years ago. 

The ship's signature was unmistakable, and Peter's instincts told him that this was it—the final resting place of Captain America.

Peter maneuvered his ship directly above the wreckage, hovering just a few hundred feet above the water. The ocean churned beneath him, the waves crashing against each other in a relentless dance. 

With the ship in position, Peter activated the ship’s autopilot to maintain its steady hover.

Leaving the cockpit, Peter made his way to the rear of the ship. He could feel the anticipation building within him, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was it. After all this time, he was finally going to unearth the legend himself.

He reached the ramp to his cargo hold and activated the controls to open it. The ramp slowly lowered, revealing the churning waters below, stretching out endlessly in all directions. 

The wind whipped through the open hatch, the cold salty spray of the ocean reaching up to meet him as he stepped to the very edge.

Standing on the edge of the ramp, Peter looked down into the abyss. The ship was down there, hidden beneath hundreds of meters of water and layers of mud and sediment accumulated over decades. This was going to be no easy task.

He took a deep breath, centering himself. The Force was strong within him, and telekinesis was his greatest strength. But even with that, the task ahead was daunting. 

The Valkyrie was massive, and after all these years, it was likely filled with water and encrusted with marine life. Lifting it from the depths would require every ounce of concentration and power he could muster.

‘I can do this… right?’ He asked himself. 

Closing his eyes, Peter reached out with the Force. He could feel the weight of the water beneath him, the pressure and cold, the crushing depths. He reached deeper, letting his mind slip through the currents, past the darkness, until he could sense the outline of the ship far below.

It was there, like a ghostly presence at the edge of his awareness. He could feel its immense weight, the layers of ice and water pressing down on it. But more than that, he could sense something else—something faint, but undeniable. It was Steve, frozen in time, waiting to be found.

With a determined look, Peter extended his hands, palms facing downward. He called upon the Force, feeling its power surge through him, amplifying his will. The ship responded to his call, and slowly, ever so slowly, it began to shift.

The water around the submerged ship churned violently as Peter concentrated, his entire focus on lifting the massive structure. The pressure of the water fought against him, the weight of the ship immense. It was like trying to lift a mountain with his bare hands, but Peter gritted his teeth, pushing harder.

‘It’s as light as a feather…’ He repeated over and over. 

His muscles strained, not from physical exertion, but from the mental and spiritual energy required to wield the Force at this level. The wind around him picked up, swirling in response to the power he was channeling. His ship vibrated slightly, the energy radiating from him creating waves in the air.

Through his power and effort, the Valkyrie began to rise, slowly breaking free from the grasp of the ocean floor. The water above it bubbled and frothed as the massive ship emerged from its long slumber. Inch by inch, it ascended, the strain on Peter growing with every passing moment.

Peter's brow furrowed in concentration, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead despite the cold wind whipping around him. The ship was almost free, but the final push was the hardest. The water clung to it, as if refusing to release its ancient prize.

With a final surge of power, Peter roared in effort, his hands shaking as he pulled the Valkyrie up from the depths. The massive ship broke through the surface of the water with a colossal splash, sending waves crashing outward in all directions. The water cascaded off the sides of the ship, revealing its rusted, barnacle-covered hull.

Peter gasped for breath, the exertion taking its toll. But he had done it. The Valkyrie hovered above the water, suspended in the air by his will alone. 

Slowly, carefully, Peter guided it closer to his ship, bringing it level with the ramp where he stood.

The ship hovered just above the surface of the water, dripping and covered in marine growth, but otherwise intact. Peter let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline still coursing through him. 

He had succeeded!

Standing there on the edge of the ramp, looking at the wreckage of the Valkyrie, Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. 

Captain America was inside that ship, preserved in ice, waiting to be awakened. And now, after decades, he was finally going to be brought back to the world.

But first, Peter had to get him out of there.

With a deep breath, Peter extended his hand, using the Force to hold the Valkyrie steady as he prepared to board. It was still a heavy burden, even without the crushing weight of the ocean above it, and he could feel the strain beginning to build in his mind. But he pushed through it, determined to see this through to the end.

Stepping carefully onto the creaking, waterlogged deck of the ship, Peter began his search. The interior was dark and musty, the air thick with the smell of salt and rust. He activated a small light on his wrist, casting a beam of illumination through the murky gloom.

Every step he took echoed in the hollow corridors of the Valkyrie. The walls were lined with rusted metal, peeling paint, and old Hydra insignias that had long since faded. The ship had been a fortress, designed for war and terror, but now it was nothing more than a ghost ship.

As Peter moved through the narrow passageways, he kept his senses sharp, scanning for any signs of Hydra artifacts that might have been left behind. 

Without the Tesseract in this universe, he knew that anything was possible. There could be hidden weapons, documents, or even experimental technology that had been forgotten with time.

His search was methodical and thorough. He checked every corner, every hidden compartment, every room that might hold something of value. But as he moved deeper into the ship, he found nothing of significance. 

Most of what remained was useless—rusted Hydra blaster weaponry that had long since been corroded by the saltwater, old crates filled with decaying supplies, and empty storage lockers.

Peter sighed as he entered what must have once been a weapons room. The blasters were stacked haphazardly against the walls, their once-sleek designs now reduced to piles of rust and disrepair. He picked one up, turning it over in his hands, but it crumbled to pieces at his touch.

"Useless," he muttered, dropping the remains to the floor with a clatter. The thought crossed his mind to salvage some of the technology, but it was clear that nothing here was worth taking. 

Whatever secrets Hydra had once hidden aboard this ship had either been lost to time or taken with them when the ship crashed.

As he moved on, Peter felt the strain of holding the ship aloft beginning to weigh on him more heavily. His telekinetic grip on the Valkyrie was strong, but maintaining it while scouring the ship was slowly wearing him down. Still, he pressed forward, knowing that he was close to his goal.

Finally, after what felt like hours of searching, Peter reached the helm of the ship—the control room where Captain America had made his final stand. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing a large, circular room dominated by the ship's massive steering wheel.

And there, in the center of it all, frozen in a thick coat of ice, was Steve Rogers.

Captain America.

[Insert picture of Captain America here]

Peter's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight. Steve was still gripping the steering wheel, his face set in a grim expression of determination. Even in his frozen state, he looked every bit the hero that Peter had seen in the movies—the man who had been willing to sacrifice everything to save the world.

The ice-encased Steve completely, preserving him in a moment of time that had long since passed. He looked as though he could wake up at any moment, ready to spring into action and save the world once again.

Peter approached cautiously, a fascinated and awed look on his face. This was it. He had found him. Captain America was right here in front of him, waiting to be brought back to life.

The ice encasing Steve was thick and solid, a testament to the decades he had spent entombed beneath the ocean. Peter knew he had to be careful—one wrong move could shatter the ice or damage Steve in some way. 

Reaching out with the Force, Peter focused on the ice, using his telekinesis to gently unstick it from the floor, the helm, and anything else it was adhered to. 

It was a delicate process, requiring precision and control, but Peter remained steady. Slowly, the ice began to lift away, the sound of cracking and shifting filling the silent helm.

Once he was sure the ice was completely free from its surroundings, Peter carefully levitated the entire block, with Captain America encased within, into the air. The ice glistened in the dim light as it floated above the deck, and Peter began the slow journey back through the ship, his mind focused entirely on maintaining control.

The corridors of the Valkyrie seemed even more claustrophobic now, the walls pressing in as Peter maneuvered the frozen Captain America through the narrow passageways. He could feel the strain of maintaining both the levitation and his grip on the ship’s hull, but he pushed through, determined to get Steve back to his own ship safely.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Peter reached the exit. He stepped out onto the ramp of his ship, the icy wind whipping through his hair as he carefully guided the frozen Captain America outside.

As soon as they were clear of the Valkyrie, Peter released his hold on the sunken ship. There was a momentary delay as the massive weight of the Valkyrie shifted, then it dropped back into the ocean with a resounding crash, sending a huge plume of water into the air. The ship splashed down into the waves, quickly beginning to sink once more beneath the surface.

Peter let out a deep sigh of relief, the strain on his mind and body finally easing. He leaned over the edge of the ramp for a moment, watching as the Valkyrie disappeared beneath the churning waters, leaving only a few bubbles and ripples in its wake.

"That was... a lot," Peter muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at the sheer weight he had been holding up.

With the ship now at the bottom of the ocean once again, Peter turned his attention back to Captain America. Carefully, he guided the frozen figure into the cargo bay of his ship, the dim lights casting long shadows across the ice.

As he set Steve down gently on the floor of the cargo bay, Peter took a step back, examining the block of ice with a mix of relief and anticipation. He had done it. He had found Captain America, and now it was time to bring him back to the world.

"Don't worry, Capsicle," Peter said with a small smile, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet of the cargo bay. "I'll have you thawed out in no time."

A/N: 2800 words :) Long Boiiii