C142 I’m Star-Lord (Patreon)

Strucker's Fortress, Europe…

The sun began to set over Baron Strucker's fortified estate, casting long shadows over the meticulously maintained grounds.

Nearby, Magneto led the Brotherhood—Toad, Sabretooth, and Juggernaut—towards the heavily guarded entrance. With a flick of his wrist, Magneto bent the gates open, the metal groaning in protest.

"Go," Magneto commanded, and the team surged forward.

Toad leaped ahead, using his agility to take down guards silently.

Sabretooth moved with lethal precision, his claws glinting dangerously.

Juggernaut, unstoppable and brutal, smashed through obstacles with sheer force.

Inside the mansion, Strucker was alerted to the intrusion. "What is the meaning of this?" he shouted, grabbing his weapon. "Defend the estate! We cannot let them reach me!"

But it was too late. Magneto entered the room, his presence dominating. "Where do you think you’re going?" he asked, his voice cold as iron.

————

Octavian Bloom's Private Island, Caribbean…

The sunny day on Octavian Bloom's private island was broken only by the gentle lapping of waves.

On the horizon, in a Jedi ship, Coulson, accompanied by Jedi Masters Ki-Adi-Mundi and Shaak Ti, approached the island.

"Let’s make this quick," Coulson cocked his pistol as they landed, the ship's cargo ramp opening behind him. "Our goal is to capture Bloom and get his list of operatives. Let’s try to keep him alive..."

…

Across the island, a large and imposing Victorian-style mansion stood. Inside, in an opulent study, Octavian Bloom lounged, completely unaware of the uninvited guests on his property. Though soon enough, his peace and quiet was abruptly shattered when a breathless guard rushed in.

"S-Sir, we have a situation!" The guard frantically reported, just as the door burst open and Coulson stormed in, flanked by the Jedi.

“?!” Bloom's eyes widened in shock and fear as he realized his sanctuary was no longer safe.

————

The Banker's Home, New York City…

In the heart of New York City, Bernard Garrett, the Banker, enjoyed a quiet evening at his luxurious penthouse.

Meanwhile, Fury, Tony Stark, and a handful of trusted Shield agents had gathered outside the building, ready to strike.

"Let's move," Fury said, leading the team into the building.

Leaving everything to Stark, they managed to easily bypass the security systems and ascended to Garrett's penthouse.

Inside, Garrett was reviewing financial reports for Hydra when the door was suddenly kicked open as agents swarmed in, securing the place in a matter of seconds.

Seconds later, both Fury and Tony came walking in. "Hello, Bernard." Fury smiled smugly.

“Or should we call you the Banker?” Tony asked, his smirk matching Fury’s.

“!” Garrett’s face turned pale as he reached for something under his desk, but Fury was faster, drawing his pistol and firing a single bullet.

*Bang!”

“Argh!” The Banker screamed as a bullet pierced his arm, causing him to drop the pistol he was reaching for.

Raising his hand, Tony’s palm reliant flared threateningly. “You’re coming with us…”

————

The Sheikh's Compound, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia…

Under the cover of night, Professor Xavier, Storm, Colossus, and Beast approached the Sheikh’s heavily guarded compound. The desert wind whipped around them as they moved with silent efficiency.

"Stay focused," Xavier instructed telepathically. "We must neutralize the guards and capture the Sheikh…"

Using their powers, the team disabled the security systems and quietly subdued the guards. They infiltrated the compound, finding Muhammed Vaziri in his luxurious bedroom, accompanied by multiple scantily clad women...

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Vaziri demanded, his eyes wide with shock, the woman around him scattering in fear.

Xavier rolled forward, his demeanor calm. "You’re under arrest, Vaziri..." he declared, swinging the Sheikh into unconsciousness with a single thought.

————

The Baroness’s Castle, Bavarian Alps…

High in the Bavarian Alps, the ancestral castle of Heike Zemo loomed over the landscape. Grandmaster Yoda, accompanied by Jedi Master Plo Koon, approached the fortress with caution.

"Stealth, we must use," Yoda advised. "Alerted, she must not be."

Using the Force, they bypassed the castle’s defenses and entered the grand hall where the Baroness was drinking g tea by a large window. Her eyes narrowed as she sensed their presence.

"Intruders," she hissed, drawing a concealed weapon.

Yoda stepped forward, not even bothering to use his lightsaber. "Surrender, you should..."

————

Doctor List’s Laboratory, Geneva, Switzerland…

Peggy, Windu, and Mystique approached the Shield laboratory in Geneva under the guise of delivering Kree ship remains. Mystique, disguised as Alexander Pierce, led the way, with Windu dressed as Nick Fury, a hat covering his bald head.

"Where’s Doctor List?" Mystique announced, her voice perfectly mimicking Pierce’s.

The guards, fooled by the disguise, allowed them entry. Inside, List was vibrating with excitement, eagerly awaiting the alien technology.

“About damn time,” List said disrespectfully, peering over their shoulders as they walked into his lab. “Where is it?”

Peggy replied, “Agents are bringing it in as we speak…”

Mystique, still in disguise, added, “While we’re waiting, we need to discuss something important. In private.”

As they moved to a secluded area, Windu swiftly incapacitated List with a precise strike, and Mystique bound him. "Got him. Let’s move."

————

Gideon Malick’s Estate, Washington D.C…

In the heart of Washington D.C., the Black Widows, led by Melina Vostokoff and joined by Natasha, prepared to capture Gideon Malick. Using their extensive training, they moved through the shadows, blending in with ease.

"We need to be swift and silent," Melina instructed. "No alarms."

They quickly infiltrated Malick’s estate, neutralizing guards and security systems with expert precision. Natasha led the way to Malick’s office, where he was meeting with what appeared to be his own armed security.

“He’s well-protected,” Natasha whispered, relaying the situation inside.

Soon enough, the door burst open, and the Widows moved in, subduing the guards before they could even fire a single bullet.

Natasha approached Malick, who tried to pull a gun, which she swiftly twisted out of his hand.

“Argh!” Malick screamed in agony as his wrist and hand were broken in an instant.

“Stop resisting. There’s no point…” Natasha declared, holding Malick’s confiscated gun to his head.

Malick’s eyes widened in shock and fury. "You’ll regret this..."

————

Daniel Whitehall’s Bunker, Austin, Texas…

Peter’s crew—Groot, Cosmo, Howard, Revan, Rocket, Teefs, Lylla, and Floor—descended upon Whitehall’s secret bunker. Using the coordinates provided, they approached the heavily fortified location.

"Time to blow some stuff up," Rocket grinned, setting explosives at the entrance.

With a deafening blast, the bunker’s doors were blown open. The team rushed inside, engaging Whitehall’s guards in a very one-sided battle.

Groot’s limbs extended, taking down multiple enemies at once, while Cosmo used her telekinesis to plow through the reinforced doors, making way for the rest of the crew.

In the chaos, Revan led the charge, his lightsaber cutting through countless guards with ease. Until finally, they reached Whitehall, who was frantically trying to escape out of a hidden exit.

"Going somewhere?" Howard quipped, aiming his Tommy gun.

Thanks to the advanced technology on their ship, they easily located this exit, which is why they left Howard there to guard it.

Whitehall turned, his face pale. "You… you can’t do this!"

"Oh, we’re doing it," Rocket said as Groot began to restrain their target.

————

Peter POV…

The journey to Camp Lehigh was swift, the ship slicing through the sky like a silent predator. Peter piloted with precision, his mind focused on the task ahead.

After a short flight, he landed his ship in a secluded area, hidden from the main road and well out of sight from the base's security systems.

As he disembarked, the dense forest provided ample cover for his approach. Moving silently through the underbrush, Peter reached the perimeter of Camp Lehigh. The base was bustling with activity, soldiers and officers going about their routines.

'Time to clear this place out,' Peter thought, slipping into the shadows.

Relying on his training, he bypassed security checkpoints and patrols with ease, making his way toward the central command building. His target: the highest-ranking military official on the base, a brigadier general.

Peter leaped over the exterior of the building, slipping in through an open window on the fourth floor. The hallway was empty, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound. He navigated through the corridors, finally reaching the general's office.

Without knocking, he opened the door and stepped inside. The brigadier general, a stern-looking man in his late fifties, looked up in surprise, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol at his side.

"Who the—" the general began, but Peter raised a hand, his eyes locking onto the general’s.

"You will put down your weapon," Peter said, his voice calm and compelling.

The general's eyes glazed over, his hand releasing the grip on his pistol. "I will put down my weapon," he echoed, placing the gun back in its holster.

Peter took a step closer, maintaining eye contact. "You will evacuate the base and send everyone home."

The general nodded slowly. "I will evacuate the base and send everyone home."

"Good," Peter nodded, waving him off. "Do it now."

The general stood up, moving towards his desk and picking up the phone. Peter listened as he gave the evacuation order, his voice unwavering and authoritative.

Within minutes, alarms began to sound throughout the base, signaling an immediate evacuation.

Soldiers and personnel moved in a hurried but orderly fashion, following the directive without question. Vehicles started up, transporting people out of the base, and within half an hour, Camp Lehigh was almost entirely empty.

Peter watched from the shadows as the last of the personnel left, the gates closing behind them. The base, once teeming with activity, was now eerily silent.

Satisfied that the area was clear, Peter emerged from his hiding spot and made his way toward the building, keenly aware of the cameras following his every move. ‘Well, I guess Zola knows I’m here…’

Soon enough, Peter reached the building that housed Zola’s computer system, only to find it heavily secured by a massive vault door. The door was equipped with multiple biometric identification measures, including fingerprint scanners, retinal scanners, and voice recognition systems.

Peter sighed, knowing that this level of security was designed to keep out even the most determined intruders. However, he had a secret weapon up his sleeve: Mechu Deru.

With a wave of his hand, Peter focused his mind on the intricate electronic locks. He could feel the circuitry and wiring within the door responding to his will. With a soft hum, the locks began to disengage, and the massive door slowly creaked open.

Peter waited a few seconds for the door to open all the way before stepping inside. As he walked in, he was met with a room filled with what looked like 1970s military technology. Giant computers, terminals, and other equipment filled the space, giving it a distinctly Cold War-era feel.

But Peter’s senses, enhanced by the Force and his Mechu Deru, told him that these seemingly outdated pieces of technology were far more advanced than they appeared. While not at the level of the rest of the galaxy, for Earth, this was as cutting-edge as it got.

Seconds later, the door closed behind Peter with a heavy thud, ominously locking him inside. And to his surprise, just as he was about to call out, the largest monitor in the room flickered to life.

The digitalized face of Arnim Zola appeared on the screen, his expression a mix of shock and fear. He looked at Peter as if he were staring at a demon.

"H-How did you do that?" Zola asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“Do what?” Peter asked, his brow raised curiously, not expecting Zola to show himself so quickly.

“T-The door. You… You made me open it.” Zola’s digital face contorted with a mix of anger and anxiety. “You waved your hand and I was forced to obey…”

A/N: 2000 words :)