Back at Shelter Base, everyone was attempting to recover from recent events, tallying their losses and preparing for what seemed inevitable.
A sense of impending doom permeated the installation, leaving everyone on edge.
At this moment, two figures stood alone on the base's landing platform, neither particularly concerned about the rain.
Their armored suits provided substantial protection from the downpour, except for one whose mouth remained exposed.
"I'll admit, T'Challa, I'm surprised how quickly you adapted to helping us," Matt acknowledged as both took a brief respite.
"I could say the same about you, my friend," T'Challa replied. "You don't strike me as someone who goes to war willingly."
Matt didn't respond immediately, silently experiencing the raindrops striking and sliding off his enhanced senses.
"I don't feel like I've contributed much since joining the Avengers," Matt said after several seconds of contemplation. "Though I admit, I didn't expect you to be so eager to join us, especially in the middle of a galactic conflict."
T'Challa spoke thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "My time away from Wakanda—in America, on Kashyyyk, and now here—has shown me that my people have remained too isolated. When someone possesses the power to save lives and help others yet keeps it selfishly guarded... I can think of nothing more morally reprehensible."
Matt found himself smiling slightly. "Did you learn that from Peter?"
"What do you mean?" the prince asked.
"Peter told me something similar once," Matt said with a shrug. "About why he does what he does."
"What did he tell you?"
Matt looked ahead to where Peter stood with several clone troopers from the 501st and 104th Legions, distributing web grenades and providing instruction on their use.
"With great power comes great responsibility," Matt recited after watching the teenager help a clone adjust his shoulder armor. "If you have the ability to help those who cannot help themselves, you should do so."
"Wise words from someone so young," T'Challa observed. "Though it does raise another question."
"Which is?"
"Is involvement in war a responsibility, or something else entirely?"
In another section of the base, most senior Republic officials, including Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Rhodes, gathered around a large holographic table projecting a tactical map of the surrounding region.
"We've lost ground on multiple fronts," Obi-Wan said grimly. "At this point, Ultron's forces have essentially driven us from Jabiim's entire northern hemisphere. Eighteen Jedi and nine thousand clone troopers have perished in the fighting."
"Force preserve us," Ima-Gun Di muttered in dismay.
"Reports indicate the Nationalists are in complete disarray," Leska added. "It appears Stratus has vanished, and he's most likely dead."
"Where was he last seen?" Rhodes inquired.
"Choal City," Anakin answered.
"Then he's definitely dead," Sam concluded.
"So what's our next move?" Natasha asked. "Looking at this... we're all that remains of the Republic presence here."
"We need to begin preparing for our own evacuation," Rhodes said, striking the table with his fist. "We don't have extensive supplies here, and if we don't extract now, Ultron will descend on this location and eliminate us completely."
"How long can we hold our position?" Anakin asked.
"Not long," Steve replied. "We need to start preparing immediate withdrawal. The orbital fleet is taking severe losses, and we cannot maintain this position any longer."
"Give the order," Aayla said with grave authority. "Begin evacuation preparations. All personnel, pack essential equipment. We're leaving."
No one disputed her directive as they quickly dispersed throughout the base.
Anakin walked down a corridor with Steve and Natasha.
"Where's Ahsoka?" Steve asked as they moved swiftly through the passage.
"She's with Barriss and the other Padawans," Anakin replied.
"Padawans? How did they get that designation?" Natasha asked with confusion.
"All their Masters are dead," Anakin said in a somber tone. "Apparently the Council decided it would be preferable to keep them together rather than reassign them to surviving Masters. They can learn from each other."
Speaking of Padawans...
A female Falleen leaned against a supply crate, her gaze distant and unfocused. Nearby were some of her companions who had been stationed on-planet before Ultron's arrival.
Honestly, she was grateful for the rain, as it helped conceal the tears streaming down her face. News of her Master's death had recently reached her, and maintaining composure was becoming increasingly difficult. Her hands—both organic and cybernetic—were clenched together with fierce intensity, though their owner seemed oblivious to any physical pain.
Master Joclad had been the only instructor who could reach her properly, as no one else could break through her barriers. Now that Joclad was gone, there might never be another who could teach her as he had.
"Zule is the only one among us who was being considered for Knighthood, and this is her first war," observed a dark-skinned human male to the female Falleen. "My Master Nico was a true Jedi Master. All of us combined could barely match his strength, wisdom, and determination."
"If we don't escape this planet, we may never live to become Knights," added Elora Sund.
"Given our new allies' presence, we might still have a chance," said a male Padawan named Vaabesh.
Hope was dwindling as their Masters fell one by one.
In another section of Shelter Base, Mak Lotor—a human male Padawan—was operating long-range scanners with his companion, Kass Tod.
"Anything on the scanners, Mak?"
"Nothing. It's disturbing."
"For all we know, the system could be compromised."
"No, I've been maintaining it as dry as possible—there's nothing wrong with the equipment."
"Perhaps enemy forces are simply conducting routine patrols beyond scanner range," Kass exhaled wearily. "How I wish we could be certain of that."
The two looked at each other, gazing into each other's eyes. They were exhausted, frightened, and ultimately terrified.
"Mak..." Kass's voice was barely audible. "If we don't—"
She fell silent as Mak grasped her hand and drew her closer.
"Nothing is certain," Mak said softly. "Except the Force."
"And death," Kass whispered.
The two moved closer, their faces nearly touching.
"And my feelings for you."
With those words, Mak pulled Kass close and kissed her as if this might be their final day.
Kass held him tightly, responding softly to his kiss, neither aware of anything beyond this moment.
Which was unfortunate, because they failed to notice another Jedi approaching them.
"Mak, Kass, you—"
The two Padawans immediately separated, eyes widening as they saw Barriss Offee standing there, her mouth agape in shock.
Both were stunned by her sudden appearance.
"You—you two are—"
Kass attempted to address the newcomer calmly. "Barriss, please—"
"But you two... you know the Code forbids this," the Mirialan said, clenching her fists tightly.
"We don't care," Kass was surprised by how quickly she responded defiantly. "We've known each other since childhood."
"Barriss, I love her as much as she loves me," Mak admitted. "Not a day passes when I don't worry about her safety. Wouldn't you feel the same about someone you truly care for?"
Barriss didn't know how to respond. She could sense it through the Force.
The profound affection they shared for each other. It was so pure and genuine.
"But you both know the Jedi Order would never permit such a relationship," Barriss whispered with visible frustration.
Nothing was said among the three until Kass spoke in such a quiet voice the others could barely hear her.
"Then maybe we should leave."
Barriss was stunned by this declaration. She had never imagined someone would voice such thoughts.
The tense atmosphere was broken when a nearby scanner suddenly activated with urgent beeping.