I'm Star-Lord (SW Xover)-Chapter 255: C253 Tour of the Place

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Knowhere's neon-lit streets greet Peter, Gamora, and Nebula, a space station city pulsing with life.

He leads them through bustling markets, alien vendors shouting over each other. Tentacled merchants hawk glowing gems; droid hawkers peddle scrap in a dozen tongues.

"Welcome to the galaxy's weirdest neighborhood," Peter quips, grinning wide. Gamora's eyes spark; Nebula's narrow, scanning for trouble.

Cantinas throb with alien beats, synth-drums echoing off steel walls. Drunk spacers stumble, laughing, their drinks glowing like stars.

Repair bays crackle nearby, sparks flying as techs wrench on battered droids. A protocol unit whines, its arm half-rebuilt, wires spitting.

Peter points to towering comms arrays, their dishes humming with galaxy-wide signals. "Keeps us plugged in," he says, proud.

Gamora marvels, her voice low. "This place is crazy." She's impressed, despite herself.

Nebula grumbles, "Too loud." But she sticks close, her violet gaze flicking to Peter, betraying awe.

Neon lights cast rainbow glows on Knowhere's walkways, steel polished by countless boots. The air's thick, spiced with alien foods and ozone.

Hover-skiffs buzz overhead, dodging cranes that haul all sorts of cargo. Their hum blends with distant factory clangs, a chaotic symphony.

Peter strides like he owns it—because he does. His leather coat catches the light, Star-Lord in his element.

"This is all yours?" Gamora teases, not fully believing him.

Nebula looks around, unsure if she believes him either.

Peter laughs, shrugging. "Yeah, but I haven't been here in a while. Things seem to be running smoothly though..."

He gestures ahead, toward a grand mansion's glow. "Museum's next," he says. "You'll love the weird stuff."

The trio moves on, the Collector's Museum looming before them, Its metal arches dwarf Peter, Gamora, and Nebula as they enter.

Peter strides past glass cases, each humming with energy. A Chitauri scepter pulses violet; a Kree Warhammer gleams, brutal and ancient.

"Look at this," Peter says, pausing at a preserved Zune. Its screen flickers, his favorite Earth music playing on a loop.

Gamora's eyes widen, scanning the relics. "These are... intense," she says, voice hushed. Nebula stays silent, her gaze fixed.

Peter's grin fades, his tone turning earnest. "Taneleer Tivan, the Collector, ran this place. A real piece of work."

He recounts Tivan's tyranny—enslaving sentient beings as "showpieces" for his gallery. Their pain fueled his twisted pride.

"I took him out," Peter says, jaw tight. "Blasted him and freed everyone. They're part of Knowhere now."

Gamora nods, her respect deepening. "You gave them a life," she says, her voice warm, admiring.

Nebula's quieter, her fingers twitching, his compassion tugging at her guarded heart.

The air feels heavy, charged with the relics' strange histories. Metal floors reflect the eerie glow from the cases.

Peter's cockiness returns, but it's softer. "Pretty cool, right? Beats a dusty Jedi temple."

The vault's silence hums, relics whispering forgotten stories. A faint clank echoes—footsteps approaching the entrance.

Peter turns, sensing allies. "Showtime," he mutters, expecting friends. Gamora and Nebula tense, ready.

Seconds later, Oola and Carina burst into the Collector's Museum, their eyes wide with shock. The Twi'lek's lekku twitch; Carina's pink skin glows under the relic lights.

"Peter!" Oola cries, rushing forward. She throws her arms around him, relief flooding her dancer's grace.

Carina follows, her embrace fierce. "You haven't returned in so long," she whispers, ex-slave's voice thick after Peter's absence.

Peter grins, hugging them back. "Missed you too," he says, warmth cutting through his usual swagger.

Gamora watches, a smile tugging her lips. Nebula shifts, her gaze sharp, emotions churning beneath her stoic mask. She didn't like these women...

Oola steps back, lekku bouncing with excitement. "Knowhere's thriving," she says, pulling up a holo-ledger glowing with data.

Carina nods, her eyes sparkling. "Trade routes are solid, security's tight, and Coaxium sales?" She pauses, grinning. "Billions."

Peter's jaw drops, his grin wild. "Billions? I could buy a frickin' planet!" He laughs, elated.

Gamora's eyes widen in surprise.

Nebula's shock twists into envy, unhappy with how close these women were to Peter. She clenches her fists, hiding her turmoil.

The museum's relics fade, their eerie glow dimmed by wealth's weight. Holo-ledgers pulse, profits a tangible force.

Oola's voice rises, proud. "We've run Knowhere like you wanted—your vision, Peter, but with our hustle."

Carina chimes in, "Coaxium's the galaxy's lifeblood. Everyone pays top credit for our stock."

Peter shakes his head, still reeling. "You two are wizards. Knowhere's a damn empire now."

Gamora folds her arms, studying the ledgers. "This kind of wealth draws enemies," she warns, ever practical.

Nebula's silence speaks louder, her gaze flicking to Peter.

The vault-like mansion echoes their voices, relics silent witnesses. Oola's lekku sway, Carina's smile infectious.

Peter claps their shoulders. "You've outdone yourselves. Now, where's my crew? Are they still working on my factories?"

Oola nods, eager. "At the shipyard, working overtime. Tony, Rocket, and the big droids—they're amazing."

Carina gestures to the exit. "Let's go. They'll be happy to see you."

Peter flashes a smirk. "Lead on, ladies." Gamora and Nebula follow, Knowhere's pulse-quickening around them.

The holo-ledger flickers off, wealth's promise lingering. Peter's richer than kings, and Knowhere's his throne.

Gamora nudges Nebula, smirking faintly having realized her sister's jealousy. After all, she knew all about how her sister felt about Peter.

Nebula simply ignores her.

————

The industrial sector sprawls, massive cranes looming like giants. Glowing forges cast molten light, hinting at untamed might.

Sparks shower from distant welders, the air thick with oil and metal. Knowhere's heart beats in its machines.

Peter strides confidently, his coat catching the forge glow. "This place is impressive," he says, proud.

Gamora scans the cranes, impressed. "It's a war machine," she murmurs, sensing its power.

Nebula's silent, her gaze on Peter.

They reach the shipyard, a cavernous expanse of steel and fire. Hulls rise, half-built, dwarfing the group.

The crew awaits, a wild mix: Tony Stark, Optimus Prime, Bee, a handful of Cybertronians, Natasha, Mikaela, Padmé, Groot, Cosmo, Howard, Rocket, Teefs, Lylla, Floor. Though Revan seemed to be missing, Peter knew he probably wasn't far.

Natasha's red hair catches the light. She rushes Peter, hugging him tight, relief in her fierce grip.

Mikaela's next, her grin bold. "You're back," she says, pulling him close, her embrace electric.

Padmé follows, her warmth grounding. "We were so worried, Peter," she whispers, her senator's poise softened by love.

Peter laughs, soaking it in. "Missed you too," he wraps his arms around them.

Nebula watches, her face tightening. Her crush—born when Peter saved her years ago—sparks bitter jealousy. 'Where are all of these women coming from?!'

Gamora notices, smirking. "Green's not your color, sis," she whispers, teasing. Nebula scowls, deflecting with a huff.

The shipyard's heat washes over them, sparks flying from welders crafting massive hulls. Machines roar, relentless.

Groot rumbles, "I am Groot," his branches swaying. Cosmo barks, tail wagging, sensing Peter's return.

Howard the Duck sips a drink, grumbling. "About time, Quill. Place ain't the same without you."

Rocket cackles, perched on a crate. "Took ya long enough. We've been busy!"

Optimus' optics glow, his voice deep. "Welcome home, Peter."

Tony claps Peter's shoulder, smirking. "Ready for the grand tour, kid? We've outdone ourselves."

The crew's energy crackles, the family reunited. Peter's their leader, his return igniting their fire.

Nebula lingers back, her scowl locked in place.

Peter nods to Tony. "Show me the goods," he says, eager for the shipyard's marvels.

Tony claps Peter's shoulder, grinning. "Brace yourself. This shipyard's our masterpiece."

Optimus steps forward, his optics glowing. "A fusion of our strengths," he rumbles, gesturing to the sprawling complex.

Rocket scampers ahead, cackling. "Built to kick ass. Follow me!"

Peter, Gamora, and Nebula trail them, the shipyard's scale dwarfing them. Warships loom, half-forged, a fleet reborn.

Conveyors hum, rolling out sleek fighters. Cannon-heavy, they gleam with Rocket's scrappy, speed-driven design.

"Those babies corner like nobody's business," Rocket brags, tweaking a fighter's thruster. Sparks cascade, lighting his fur.

Peter's Mechu-Deru hums, syncing with the machinery. "Damn, Rocket. These could outrun X-wingers."

Warships tower nearby, their hulls near-indestructible. Cybertronian alloys shimmer, bristling with Tony's AI-guided turbolasers.

[Insert warship pictures. Most likes will be what they look like.]

Tony taps a holo-schematic, glowing with warship specs. "Smart guns, smarter shields. Unbreakable, mostly."

Optimus nods, his voice deep. "These vessels embody resilience. They will endure any storm."

Gamora's eyes flick across the warships, impressed. "This could challenge empires," she says, voice steady but awed.

Nebula's gaze narrows, calculating. She exchanges a glance with Gamora, both seeing the fleet's galactic might. Their father would kill for this...

The shipyard pulses, sparks showering from welders. Holo-schematics flicker, designs dancing in the smoky air.

Peter grins, awestruck. "You've outdone yourselves..."

The air's thick with oil and heat, machinery roaring. The shipyard's a beast, feeding Peter's growing power.

Gamora folds her arms, studying a fighter. "This is serious firepower, Quill. What's your play?"

Nebula's silent, her crush simmering. Peter's empire feels too big, yet she's drawn to his vision.

Optimus' presence grounds the chaos, his frame towering. "Your will shapes this, Peter. Choose wisely."

Peter's Mechu-Deru tingles, feeling the ships' potential. He's not just a Jedi—he's a warlord now. Or at least he could be if he wanted to.

Tony gestures to a tunnel ahead. "Shipyard's just the appetizer. Droid factory's the main course."

Tony leads the way, smirking. "Shipyard was fun, but this? This is the real show."

The crew guides Peter, Gamora, and Nebula into the droid factory, a labyrinth of gleaming auto-forges. AI cores pulse, alive with code.

Peter's Mechu-Deru tingles, anticipation surging. He feels the factory's potential, a force to reshape the galaxy.

Sleek droids march off lines, their optics glowing red. Tony's AI makes them sharp, almost sentient.

'I should double-check the AI to make sure there's no Ultron's being born...' Peter made a mental note to overlook their work, especially Tony's.

Rocket's weaponry arms them—blasters, vibro-blades, missile pods. Each droid's a walking arsenal, his signature chaos etched in.

Cybertronian resilience binds their frames, unyielding as Optimus himself. These machines are built to dominate.

[Insert droid pictures here. Most likes will be what they look like.]

"Holy sh*t," Peter breathes, floored. He grins, picturing defense fleets or conquest. "This is insane."

The factory's output staggers—thousands daily, enough to rival most empires...

Nano-forges pulse with molten light, servos whirring in perfect sync. The air hums, electric with creation.

Rocket's voice crackles over comms. "My babies'll wreck anything! You're welcome, Star-Lord!"

Peter laughs, shaking his head. "Rocket, you're a lunatic. These could storm Coruscant."

Optimus looms nearby, his optics steady. "Power serves purpose, Peter. What is yours?"

Gamora folds her arms, watching Peter closely. His grin hides ambition, and she knows it.

Nebula's silence speaks volumes, her gaze flicking to Peter. This army could break worlds—or him.

The factory roars, droids assembling in endless rows. Their precision is chilling, a galactic force unleashed.

Peter's Mechu-Deru syncs with an AI core, feeling its pulse. He's no Jedi now—he's a king.

The crew watches, proud but tense. Peter's next move will define Knowhere, maybe the galaxy.

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