I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C51 Gotta Pee!

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The piercing sound of blaster fire echoed through the palace's ornate halls as Groot and Cad Bane faced off. Groot's thirst for vengeance and Bane's cold professional resolve set the stage for a fierce confrontation. 

Bane eyed the tree before him, “Kid, you really don’t want to do this. Just sit back and enjoy the rest of your time here. It’s better than dying, I can assure you…”

Groot’s bark-like skin bristled, his stance widening as he prepared for the attack. “I am Groot!” he bellowed, the intensity of his voice reflecting his deep-seated anger and sorrow. 

Bane, undeterred, smirked beneath his wide-brimmed hat, his hands gripping the twin blasters that had brought so much grief to Groot’s life. “I’ll take that as a refusal…”

With a sudden burst, Bane activated his rocket boots, propelling himself upward. The whirring sound filled the room as he aimed down, squeezing the triggers. The twin blasts of blue energy shot towards Groot, who responded by thickening his limbs, his arms morphing into a shield of interlocking twigs.

The blaster bolts struck the shield, creating a shower of sparks that sizzled against Groot's natural armor. 

Unscathed but angered, Groot extended his arms, transforming them into long, whip-like tendrils that shot out and snaked toward his opponent. The bounty hunter dodged nimbly, his boots allowing him to dance in the air, though he couldn’t stay in the air for too long as they needed to recharge between each use. 

Bane landed smoothly, his boots kicking up a cloud of dust. “I gave you a chance, kid, but I can’t waste time with you anymore. I got a job to do…” From his left gauntlet, which he pointed in Groot’s direction, he deployed a cloud of knockout gas. 

Groot’s eyes widened as he retracted his tendrils and held his breath, an instinctive response despite not requiring air in the conventional sense. Through blurred vision, Groot charged forward, his massive form barreling towards Bane and out of the cloud of gas.

Cad Bane, quick on his draw, fired a whipcord from his right gauntlet. The cord wrapped around Groot’s arm. With a sharp tug, Bane hoped to topple him. However, Groot's strength was formidable; instead of falling, he yanked back, pulling Bane towards him.

As Bane flew forward, he managed a controlled roll, coming up with blasters aimed. He fired, the bolts striking Groot in the shoulder and thigh. The wood splintered and smoked under the assault, and Groot roared in pain. But with resilience born of his nature, the damaged areas began to slowly regrow, bark knitting together before the bounty hunters eyes.

“I am Groot!” he roared, pain and resolve mingling in his tone. With a sudden surge, he enlarged his right arm, swinging it with all his might at Bane. The hit connected, sending the bounty hunter crashing against the wall. His armor clattered, but Bane was not down yet.

Using his jet boots, Bane soared upwards again, but this time Groot was ready. With precision, Groot morphed his left arm, thinning and sharpening it into a long spear. As Bane hovered within distance, Groot thrust forward, impaling his limb through Bane’s left arm.

“Aaarrgghh!” Bane screamed, a rare loss of composure, as a wide spearhead severed his arm from the elbow. Blood spurted wildly, painting the walls in stark red. 

Clutching his stump, Bane’s face contorted with rage and agony as he used his remaining arm to take aim and fire at Groot, hitting his spear-like arm in retaliation. 

“I am Groot,” Groot said solemnly, looking at the fallen limbs—his enemy’s and his own, which had also been severed from a precise blaster shot.

With Bane weakened and reeling, he wasn’t able to stay in the air for long, so Groot didn’t hesitate. He advanced, towering over the injured bounty hunter. Bane, defiant to the end, raised his remaining hand, his blaster shaking.

“I AM GROOT!” Groot proclaimed as his severed limb regrew in an instant and shot out, fast and unstoppable, piercing through Bane’s chest. The bounty hunter gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he looked down at the wooden spear-arm protruding from his torso.

“I am Groot,” Groot whispered, this time his voice carrying a note of finality and sorrow—for all of his loved ones who were taken from him: his neighbors, his family, his friends, everyone.

As Bane slumped to the ground, his life fading, Groot retracted his blood covered arm. The room fell silent but for the distant sounds of chaos. 

Bane coughed, struggling to speak, his voice barely a rasp as he muttered, “Guess I wasn’t quick enough this time… Watch your back, kid.” With those final words, his eyes dimmed, and the notorious bounty hunter was no more.

Standing over Bane, Groot let out a deep, mournful sound. His duty was complete, his family avenged, but the victory felt hollow, as he had no one left to celebrate it with…

————

Meanwhile, as Groot was avenging his people, Peter Quill and the Collector faced each other, ready for the impending conflict. Alarms echoed through the hallways, adding a shrill backdrop to the already intense atmosphere. 

Peter, gripping Ronan's hammer in his left hand and his black lightsaber in his right, eyed his surroundings warily, unsure what his opponent had hidden up his sleeve. The Collector stood confidently, his hand gripping his blaster while the other went into his pocket. 

"Last chance to give up peacefully," Peter called out, his voice echoing slightly in the expansive room.

The Collector merely smirked, pulling out yet another remote from his pocket. "You think you can just walk into my home and do whatever you want? I've prepared for far worse than you, Jedi."

As the words left his mouth, a series of turrets emerged from the ceiling and walls, their barrels glinting ominously in the dim light. Peter reacted instantly, leaping to the side as a barrage of laser fire stitched the space where he had just stood. Rolling to his feet, he used the Force to hurl a nearby statue toward the turrets, smashing several into sparks and twisted metal.

The Collector, not to be outdone, activated the bracelet on his wrist, sending a shockwave of energy toward Peter, who braced himself, channeling the Force to enhance his agility. He flipped backward, narrowly avoiding the blast, which shattered an ancient-looking vase in his place.

Landing gracefully, Peter thrust his hammer-wielding hand forward, sending a bolt of Sith lightning towards the Collector. The older man laughed maniacally. "You'll have to do better!" he taunted, as he tapped another button, releasing energy shields around himself, which blocked the attack. 

Peter charged, swinging Ronan’s electrified hammer with a powerful arc, which emitted a lightning-fueled concussive blast toward the Collector. The energy shields flickered for a moment but held firm under the assault, negating it completely. 

The Collector retaliated by deploying a drone from his collection, which fired an energized net designed to entangle Peter. But with a swift slice of his lightsaber, he cut through the net, yet the distraction allowed the Collector to close in, an ancient-looking sword seemingly appearing in his hand out of nowhere. 

The two clashed fiercely, the sound of metal against lightsaber filling the room as sparks flew. The Collector, surprisingly adept in combat, managed a few close swipes that Peter narrowly parried, his lightsaber unable to slice through the Collector's weapon.

‘Why does everyone I face have a sword or spear that I can’t cut through…’ Peter thought, an annoyed look on his face. 

Soon enough, the fight grew more brutal and desperate. The Collector used his knowledge of his lair to his advantage, continually forcing Peter into defensive positions with cleverly hidden traps and ambushes from his automated systems. Despite Peter's Force abilities and combat skills, the onslaught began to wear him down.

As Peter stumbled back from a particularly aggressive exchange, the Collector seized the opportunity to activate a powerful gravitational field around him, pinning his opponent to the ground. Struggling against the overwhelming force, Peter's muscles screamed in protest.

It was then that Carina, who was hidden in the shadows up until now, found her resolve. She stepped out, her hands shaking but determined, and aimed a stolen blaster at her former master. "Let him go!" she screamed, her voice cracking in fear.

The Collector simply turned, activating an energy shield just as she fired. The blaster bolts harmlessly splattered against the shield, missing its target. 

“You fool! Do you think you’re a hero now, Carina? Might I remind you that you are a slave, my slave, an object I purchased to serve me—nothing more, nothing less.” he sneered, his words cutting through the chaos. “And when this is all over, I’ll make sure you regret ever crossing me. The depths of my collection hold tortures you can’t even imagine.”

Carina’s resolve wavered under the weight of his threats, but she held the blaster steady, her eyes hardening with determination. “I’m not afraid of you anymore!” she shouted back, her voice gaining strength.

The Collector laughed, a hollow, menacing sound that echoed off the walls. “Brave words for someone so utterly powerless. You’ll learn, my dear, that betrayal comes with a price—one far costlier than you can pay.”

Just then, Peter, fueled by the Collector’s cruelty, seized the moment thanks to Carina’s distraction. Summoning the depths of his power, he employed one of his newer abilities, Dark Aura, and suddenly, he was enveloped in a swirling, shadowy, lightning charged mist. 

This not only shielded him from view but also amplified his strength, allowing him to break free from the gravitational pull with a surge of dark energy. 

Cloaked in the eerie aura, Peter moved unseen across the room, his approach silent and swift. He reappeared just behind the Collector, lightsaber ignited and pulsing in his hand. With a precise and powerful thrust, he drove the glowing black blade through the Collector’s energy shield and into his exposed back. 

The shield flickered and failed as the Collector gasped, his insides cooking at a rapid pace, the realization of his defeat and inevitable death etched across his face. As he fell, his threats turned to bloody gurgles, his plans for revenge unfulfilled.

"You..." he choked out, his eyes widening in shock.

Peter withdrew his lightsaber, watching as the Collector collapsed to the ground before turning to Carina, who was staring in stunned silence. "It’s over," he said softly, his voice filled with fatigue and relief.

Carina nodded slowly, her gaze flickering between the fallen Collector and Peter. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

Peter looked over at her, nodding with a tired smile, the weight of their ordeal momentarily lifting. But before he could respond, the heavy, rhythmic thumps of Groot’s approach echoed through the chamber.

Peter turned, raising an eyebrow as he took in Groot's appearance—his bark stained dark with Cad Bane's blood. "That doesn't look like just a scratch. Bane didn't make it, huh?" he asked, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Groot shook his head, branches rustling softly. "I am Groot," he replied solemnly, the depth of his voice conveying a sense of finality.

Peter nodded in understanding, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. "You avenged your people. That's what counts."

Meanwhile, Carina stepped closer to Groot, pulling out a small handkerchief. She began gently wiping the blood from his wooden body. Groot's expression shifted, an almost bashful look crossing his features as he endured her fussing, unable to look Carina in the eyes.

Peter chuckled at the sight, but otherwise remained silent. ‘Looks like someone has a crush…’

Sadly, their light, happy moment was cut short when a robotic voice suddenly blared through the palace's speaker system. "Self-destruct sequence initiated. T-minus sixty seconds..."

As the countdown started, the Collector's strained, raspy laugh filled the room. Turning, they saw him barely alive, the remote still clutched in his trembling hand. "You think you've won?" he wheezed. "We'll all go down together!"

Peter's face hardened as he lifted Ronan's hammer and, with a swift motion, unleashed a concussive blast that snapped the Collector's neck instantly. The villain's lifeless body slumped, the controller slipping from his grasp.

While Groot and Carina began to panic, Peter walked over coolly and picked up the remote. He closed his eyes, focusing as he channeled Mechu-Deru, allowing him to manipulate the device. The room fell silent, every second stretching endlessly as the countdown ominously continued.

"Ten... Nine... Eight..."

Peter's brow furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he worked against the clock.

"Three... Two..."

Just as "One" was about to escape the speakers, Peter exhaled sharply and opened his eyes. "Got it!" 

“Self-destruct sequence deactivated. All systems returning to standby mode.” The countdown halted, the digital display frozen just before disaster. Sighs of relief filled the room, the tension dissipating instantly.

But once again, their moment of peace was short-lived. A sudden bark echoed through the now quiet room, drawing their curious glances towards a glass case. Inside, a Labrador in a Russian space suit wagged its tail excitedly.

Peter squinted, his face a mask of disbelief and amusement as he stepped closer. ‘Cosmo?’

The dog looked up with intelligent eyes as the collar around its neck spoke in a female voice with a distinctly Russian accent, “Please, comrade, could you let me out? I really need to pee...”

A/N: 2299 words :)