Steve Rogers stood on the bridge of the Negotiator, Obi-Wan Kenobi's flagship, staring at the holotable with haunted eyes. His broad shoulders sagged under an invisible weight as he processed what he and Rhodes had just learned aboard the Republic vessel.
The situation couldn't get any worse.
Ultron was back.
While the Avengers had been with Aayla and Obi-Wan above Mandalore, their communications systems erupted with distress signals—dozens of them, streaming in from star systems across both Republic and Separatist space. It was a coordinated blitzkrieg on a galactic scale: mysterious fleets dropping out of hyperspace above strategic worlds, launching devastating surprise attacks that sent shockwaves throughout the galaxy.
Republic forces stationed above Mandalore scrambled to make sense of the chaos. Confusion reigned for nearly half an hour until the most devastating news of all came through:
Coruscant was under siege.
The Republic's capital world was fighting for its life against an unknown enemy whose sudden invasion had caught their defenses completely off-guard. But it was Natasha's intel that made Steve's blood run cold—her report on who was leading the assault on the galactic capital.
Now Steve stood alone with his thoughts, trying to process the impossible.
He'd hoped it was some kind of mistake, a communication error, anything but the truth. But deep down, he knew better.
Ultron was alive. The mechanical monster they'd thought they'd destroyed was back, and this time he'd brought his war to an entire galaxy.
"Steve?" A gentle touch on his shoulder broke through his spiraling thoughts.
The super soldier turned to find Aayla Secura studying him with concerned violet eyes, her blue skin creased with worry.
"Are you all right?" the Twi'lek Jedi asked softly.
Steve attempted a smile, but it came out strained and hollow. He looked down at the deck plating, letting out a long breath.
"I'd be lying if I said I was fine," he admitted quietly. "I just... I don't know how to explain this."
"Can you tell me what you're thinking?" Aayla pressed gently.
"I was terrified when I heard the news," Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And if I'm this shaken, I can only imagine how everyone else must be feeling."
Aayla's brow furrowed at his tone. There was something more here, something he wasn't saying.
"This Ultron," she said carefully, "you have history with him?"
"That's putting it mildly." Steve's jaw tightened as he met her gaze. "We've faced him before. Too many times."
"But you've been able to defeat him in the past, haven't you?"
"We did. It wasn't easy, but we managed it." Steve's hands clenched into fists. "The problem is, the three people who were most crucial to stopping him—Thor, Tony, and Vision—they're not here."
"Still no information on Vision?" Aayla asked.
Steve shook his head grimly. "Or Wanda." Without warning, he slammed his fist against the holotable's edge, the metal ringing under the impact.
Aayla startled. She'd rarely seen Captain America show such raw frustration.
"You weren't supposed to be dragged into this," Steve said, his voice thick with guilt. "None of you were. This is our mess, our failure, and now an enemy we thought we'd put down for good is loose in your galaxy. I'm just—" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm trying to figure out how to fix this."
"Steve," Aayla said gently, moving closer. "This isn't your fault. Some things are beyond anyone's control."
"Is it?" Steve's blue eyes blazed. "Is it really?"
Before Aayla could respond, the clone pilots announced their imminent arrival at Coruscant. The blue-white tunnel of hyperspace gave way to a scene of devastation that made even the battle-hardened super soldier draw in a sharp breath.
Debris fields stretched in every direction around Coruscant—the twisted remains of the enemy fleet that had attacked the capital the day before. While the Republic forces had ultimately overwhelmed Ultron's assault through sheer numbers, the level of destruction was staggering.
Steve's expression darkened as he took in the aftermath of Ultron's opening gambit—an attack so sudden and vicious it left the entire sector reeling.
Aayla stared out at the devastated battlefield, her Force-sensitivity picking up echoes of the violence that had played out here.
"The scope of this is..." she began, then trailed off, unable to find adequate words.
"At least the fighting's stopped for now," Steve said quietly.
The destruction was so extensive that Aayla couldn't sense whether there had been any survivors among the attackers. It was a grim thought, but one that carried troubling implications.
As she stood there, something unusual touched her Force awareness—a sensation coming from Steve himself. She'd grown accustomed to the strange void he created in the Force, the way his enhanced nature seemed to deflect its touch. But now...
Despite that barrier, raw emotion was radiating from him with such intensity that it pierced through and reached her directly. Without conscious thought, she let her awareness expand, trying to understand what she was sensing.
Guilt.
Wave after wave of self-recrimination and remorse poured off the super soldier, so powerful it made her gasp aloud and break out in a cold sweat.
"Aayla?" Steve's concerned voice cut through her Force-trance. His hand was on her shoulder, steadying her. "You all right? You look pale."
"I..." Aayla wiped the perspiration from her forehead. "I'm not sure."
"Did you sense something through the Force?" Steve asked, studying her face intently.
Before she could answer, Commander Bly approached them with crisp military bearing.
"General, Captain," the clone officer said professionally, then paused when he noticed Aayla's condition. "General? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Commander," Aayla said, waving off his concern. "What do you need to report?"
Bly glanced between her and Steve, who gave him a subtle shrug, then set aside his questions to focus on more immediate matters.
"The gunship's ready to take us planetside, General."
"Thank you, Bly." Aayla straightened, forcing herself back into command mode. "Let's go."
The three made their way to the hangar, where a LAAT gunship waited with Lightning, Lucky, and Cameron already aboard. The clone troopers each gave Steve respectful nods, which he returned with a genuine smile despite his troubled mood.
Steve's expression warmed slightly as he noticed the Avengers insignia painted on each trooper's armor. It still amazed him to see the clones proudly displaying the symbols of every Avenger they'd served alongside. Cameron and Fives had explained it was a tradition among the 212th, 501st, and 327th—a way of honoring their off-world allies.
That moment of warmth faded quickly as the gunship lifted off and soared over Coruscant's devastated cityscape.
The sight below hit Steve like a physical blow, dredging up memories of battles fought on Earth—bombed-out cities, displaced civilians, the aftermath of superhuman conflicts. His grip tightened unconsciously on the LAAT's support handle until the metal groaned in protest.
The handle snapped off in his enhanced grip.
Steve stared at the broken piece of metal in his hand while Aayla looked on with wide eyes.
"Uh, everything okay, Captain?" Lucky asked cautiously.
"Yeah," Steve said quietly, tossing the mangled handle aside. "Just fine."
The others exchanged glances but said nothing more, focusing instead on the rescue operations visible throughout the city. Gunships and transport vessels of every size moved through the urban canyons, clearing debris, delivering medical supplies, and evacuating the wounded.
It was a scene Steve had hoped never to witness again.
His attention was so focused on the devastation below that he missed the concerned looks passing between Aayla and Bly, their silent communication speaking volumes about their worry for him.
Eventually the gunship reached its destination. The clone troopers dispersed to assist with relief efforts while Steve, Bly, and Aayla headed toward their objective. Not far away, another LAAT touched down, disgorging Obi-Wan Kenobi, James Rhodes, and Commander Cody.
Together, the group made their way toward the Senate building, where answers—and likely more troubling questions—awaited them.