[Anakin's POV]
The next day I woke up early.
According to Earth's schedule it was 5:00 in the morning, but my body didn't feel it that way. I never needed much sleep. My Jedi training, my connection to the Force, it's as if a part of me always remains awake. Alert. The Force compensates for what others call exhaustion.
I moved quietly toward one of the gardens at the headquarters. The air was fresh, damp. There was still no light, only a soft twilight beginning to clear along the horizon.
I sat on the ground, legs crossed and back straight.
I closed my eyes and breathed.
The Force flowed through me. Not like a storm, nor like an overflowing river. But like a steady, clear thread running through every muscle, every thought. I was balanced.
While I meditated, I also decided which path to take. After spending a week getting used to the culture of this planet and learning more about it, and after failing to repair the holotransmitter, it was time to make a more active decision.
I would not try to build an intergalactic ship. That was impractical, even for me. Earth's technology doesn't allow it. The distance is too great. And even if I could build it, I have no heading. No maps. No destination.
But a galactic exploration vessel is viable.
One capable of traveling through this galaxy, beyond Earth's solar system.
If I achieve that, I can explore the galaxy, different planets.
Search for more advanced technology.
Star charts. Interstellar trade routes. Civilizations that may have crossed galaxies, or left traces of how to do so. I might even find transmitters capable of connecting with Obi-Wan.
That is the first step. I will not ask official permission from a government to build a secret spacecraft in the middle of their paranoid planet. I'm not one of those people. Political meetings make me sick. They are slow, filled with falsehood and bureaucracy.
The problem, of course, is the same as last night: I have no money. No space. No materials.
So I need to solve that problem.
One of the Avengers is Tony Stark. A millionaire. A technological genius. He is Iron Man.
In terms of engineering, he is brilliant. Perhaps one of the few people on this planet with the capability, and the resources, to build something even remotely similar to what I need. He has money, resources, and more.
And, from what I've seen, he doesn't answer directly to the government. In theory, his help could solve many of my problems.
The only detail is that my relationship with Tony Stark is practically nonexistent.
I've only been here eight days. I barely have a decent relationship, mostly because of yesterday's events, with Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Gwen. With Tony I've only seen him from a distance.
I don't have the trust needed to ask for his help.
Much less to ask him to finance a personal, secret, potentially dangerous project that would almost certainly be forbidden by any Earth treaty defining what is reasonable.
Besides…
I don't know what he's like.
I don't know if he's like Steve, who acts on principle even when it goes against orders.
Or if he's more like a politician with power: charming on the outside, but calculating within.
I finished meditating and slowly opened my eyes.
The sunlight was beginning to rise over the horizon, warm but faint. It illuminated the main garden of the headquarters with a soft golden glow, like a veil covering everything in momentary peace.
There was almost no wind, barely a touch in the air. I felt the Force so clearly, so present, as if it wrapped around me like a cloak of harmony.
My breathing was steady. My mind centered. Everything was in balance.
Until I noticed a presence.
Someone was staring directly at me.
I turned my head slightly and there she was. Natasha Romanoff.
A few meters away. Motionless. Slightly crouched, one knee bent, her arms resting on her leg, her face tilted like someone observing a rare species in a zoo.
I jumped immediately, with a small involuntary hop where I sat, as if she had caught me meditating in my pajamas.
"By all the suns of Tatooine!?" I said, straightening up quickly, still sitting cross-legged. "How long have you been there!?"
Natasha raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Long enough to see you take meditation very seriously, galactic monk."
"Galactic monk…" I repeated with annoyance. That nickname was starting to follow me everywhere. It was a terrible nickname. I'd heard Gwen call me that too.
"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Natasha added with a half-smile that didn't hide her intent. "I was going to say zen star child, but that sounded too cute."
I looked at her as if she had just suggested I wear a pink robe.
"Since when are you so talkative, Black Widow?" I asked, slightly surprised.
Until now, in this past week, Natasha had been the most reserved of the group. Not cold, but quiet.
She shrugged casually, "Since I decided that observing in silence was boring."
I nodded, though not entirely convinced.
On the other hand, Wanda was also quiet, but her silence was different. Not calculating. It was soft and kind. There was a sort of shy warmth in her. Always ready to offer a calm word or a brief smile.
She reminded me a little of Padmé.
"So, do you need me for something?" I asked.
"Yes. A very important mission," Natasha replied, and I couldn't help raising an eyebrow.
"Breakfast is ready," she added after a few seconds. "Everyone's inside. Even Steve made the breakfast his father used to cook back in nineteen-hundred-something… Move before Sam takes your portion."
I froze for a moment before sighing, "Alright, let's go. I suppose even galactic monks need to eat."
She stopped. Blinked. Then tilted her head slightly with a clearly amused smile.
"Galactic monk, huh? Well… you're learning to laugh at yourself. It suits you."
I didn't answer. I only gave her a sideways glance as we walked toward the building.
We entered the dining area, where the smell of coffee, toasted bread, and something that smelled like old butter, probably Steve's century-old recipe, filled the air.
Sam was already sitting with a fork in his hand and his mouth full. Vision was flipping through a book while serving himself something as if he needed to eat (he didn't, but he liked the aesthetic of the ritual). Steve placed another plate on the table, and Wanda was sitting quietly with a cup between her hands, her eyes lifting just as she saw us enter.
"Good morning, Anakin," Steve said in a firm but kind voice.
"Hey, Padawan," Sam greeted with a slight smile.
"Good morning, Anakin," Wanda added with a small nod.
Even Vision looked up from his book. "Did you sleep well?"
I swallowed, uncomfortable for a moment. So many friendly greetings it was new. Too new. But I didn't want to seem distant or rude.
"Good morning," I murmured with a slight nod of my head. Then, after a pause, "And yes. I slept well, thanks."
I sat down next to Wanda, accepting the plate Steve slid toward me. I didn't know exactly what everything on it was, but it smelled better than any Jedi field ration.
We began eating. They talked among themselves, light comments, jokes, some analysis of training. I stayed quiet for a few minutes. Then something itched inside me.
"By the way…" I said, looking up. "What happened to the mutant lizard?"
The conversation stopped for a second.
"The Lizard?" Steve repeated.
Vision was the one who answered with surgical precision.
"Kurt Connors. Doctor of biogenetics. Expert in cellular regeneration. He worked in a private laboratory operating outside certain ethical protocols. His experiment consisted of accelerating human regeneration using reptile genes. However, the process proved unstable. When you encountered him, he was in his most aggressive mutated state."
"And he escaped, thanks to the fact that the police were aiming at you like you were the villain, by the way," Sam added, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee. "Classic."
I nodded slightly. The unconscious man had regained consciousness while I was dealing with the local police, trying to explain that I wasn't a threat and that I was a defender of the galaxy.
"One of them even shot at me, and they still looked at me like I was some kind of lunatic when I could've already beaten them all," I muttered, growing irritated.
"I know," Steve said in a grave voice. "He no longer has a license to carry a weapon. He's been suspended. And the official report made it clear that your response was defensive. Though the people in the government are still a bit tense."
"Tense?" I repeated with a resigned sigh, returning my attention to my plate.
I knew why they were still tense. Fear of the unknown. Showing up out of nowhere. Blah, blah, blah.
Wanda took a sip from her cup and spoke softly, though there was a smile on her lips.
"I think if you hadn't said, 'Do you want to escalate this into an interplanetary conflict?'… the situation might have gone a little better."
I stayed still for a moment, "Yes. Maybe that wasn't the most diplomatic thing," I admitted at last, a little embarrassed.
"Definitely not very Jedi of me," I added.
"That's true. According to what you told us, Jedi don't get involved in political matters or start interplanetary conflicts themselves. So why did you say it?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Out of irritation, mainly… I saved a group of civilians, defeated the monster, they pointed guns at me, and then one of them shot me. I don't know about you, but I found that a little offensive," I replied with a shrug.
"Fair point. That does sound offensive," Natasha said, agreeing with me.
Wanda's smile grew a little brighter. Sam shook his head with a half-smile. Vision, as always, simply nodded, as if he were recording everything in some kind of emotional database.
...
Read 10 chapters in advance on my patreon: [email protected]/SkyReaderff