Peter struggled to his feet, his vision swimming from the sonic attack's aftereffects. Before he could fully recover, metallic fingers closed around his throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air.
Ultron's face twisted into a sadistic grin as he watched the young hero's legs kick helplessly.
"Children," Ultron said with mock pity. "You were designed to replace them... but now? Your story ends here and now."
Peter managed a weak chuckle that made Ultron's optical sensors flicker with confusion.
"You really were made by Mr. Stark," Peter wheezed. "You're just as chatty as he is sometimes."
The condescending smile vanished, replaced by something far more lethal.
Ultron's grip tightened around Peter's neck. Electricity coursed through his arm plating, sending crackling energy directly into the teenager's body.
Peter's scream of agony echoed across the battlefield, but he didn't surrender. Through sheer force of will, he fired a web-line at Ultron's head and yanked himself forward.
His knee connected with the robot's face with a satisfying clang, forcing Ultron to release him in surprise.
But Peter wasn't done. As he fell, he grabbed Ultron's arm and used his momentum to pull him off-balance.
Ultron stumbled backward, his dignified composure cracking into an enraged snarl.
"Insolent child!"
The gravitational manipulators in his arm activated, yanking Peter back into his grasp. This time, Ultron didn't hesitate. He slammed Peter into the ground repeatedly, each impact accompanied by burning heat and electrical discharge that seared through the boy's suit and into his flesh.
Ahsoka and Barriss finally shook off the lingering effects of the sonic attack, their vision clearing just in time to witness their friend's brutal beating.
"Peter!" both Padawans cried out, extending their hands in unison.
The raw emotion in their voices was enough to break Ultron's concentration. He looked up just as their combined Force push struck him like an invisible battering ram, denting his chest plating and sending him flying backward. Peter tumbled free, landing in a crumpled heap.
The two Padawans stumbled forward on unsteady legs, their bodies still recovering from the sonic assault. They reached Peter's motionless form and dropped to their knees beside him.
Ahsoka carefully removed his damaged mask, revealing a face covered in burns and bruises.
"Karen, are you there?" Barriss called, her voice trembling.
"I'm here, girls," came the worried reply from Peter's suit AI. "Peter is alive, but he has multiple contusions and lacerations across his body. I'm also detecting signs of a concussion."
"He'll receive much worse than that," a synthetic voice sneered behind them.
The girls spun around to see Ultron rising to his feet, his damaged chassis sparking but still functional.
"A teenager with raging hormones," Ultron said mockingly. "How typically—"
A blue lightsaber blade erupted through his torso from behind, cutting his words short. The energy blade bisected him cleanly, and his upper half toppled forward while his legs collapsed beneath him.
Anakin Skywalker stepped over the fallen robot, his lightsaber still humming with deadly energy.
"Don't even think about hurting my Padawan, you damn Clanker," Anakin growled, his eyes blazing with protective fury.
Ultron's head turned at an unnatural angle, somehow still functioning despite the damage. He smiled that cold, mechanical smile.
"Oh, here I thought only teenagers had anger management issues."
"That's a lot of talk for a broken droid," Anakin said, pointing his lightsaber at Ultron's face.
Ultron simply rolled his optical sensors in an exaggerated display of boredom.
"Expendable chassis, Jedi Knight," he taunted. "Didn't the Avengers tell you? Or weren't you listening?"
The red glow faded from Ultron's optical sensors as his consciousness transferred elsewhere. The lifeless shell toppled backward into the mud.
Anakin's jaw clenched with frustration, but the sound of his Padawan's labored breathing quickly refocused his attention. He turned to see Barriss and Ahsoka desperately trying to rouse Peter from unconsciousness.
Around them, Mak, Cass, and Fay were struggling to stand, all six teenagers bearing the wounds of their brutal encounter. But Peter's injuries looked the most severe.
"Kix, I need a medical team here now," Anakin spoke into his wrist comm. "Peter's in critical condition—unconscious with severe trauma. We've got Padawans and clones who need immediate medical attention."
"On our way, General," came the medic's prompt reply. "Jesse, Hardcase, move out!"
Shortly after the call, Ultron's forces began a systematic withdrawal from the battlefield.
The Republic had barely survived, but at a devastating cost.
Hours later, the surviving leadership gathered in the shelter base's main operations center. The holotable displayed the ongoing battle between the Republic fleet and Ultron's armada—a dance of destruction among the stars that the Republic was slowly losing.
"There's no point staying here any longer," Obi-Wan said wearily, his robes caked with mud and ash.
"Ultron's hijacked every droid the Separatists had," Rhodey reported grimly, his arms crossed. "Half our people are dead or wounded. Peter's in critical condition, Hope's injured, Matt's down for the count. Several Jedi and clone officers are either hurt or..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
"We can't hold this position," Steve announced, his shield resting against the table's edge. "Ultron has the numbers advantage now. More ships, more troops. He could wipe us out whenever he chooses."
"Our fleet's still fighting," Admiral Kilian said tiredly. "For now."
"Then why hasn't he?" Anakin demanded, his hand resting protectively on Ahsoka's shoulder. The young Togruta sat beside Peter's makeshift medical bed, her eyes never leaving her friend's unconscious form.
"Ultron is many things," Natasha said while rewrapping a bandage around her arm. "And while I could list his flaws all day, he's primarily a narcissistic megalomaniac. This is intentional."
"Why?" Aayla Secura asked. The Twi'lek Jedi had nearly lost her commander and several of her best troopers in the planetary assault. She'd watched Steve nearly get vaporized by a Separatist tank, seen fellow Jedi cut down in their prime. Even with her exceptional emotional control, the strain was showing.
As Quinlan Vos's former Padawan, she'd inherited some of his rebellious tendencies—and his hatred of losing good people to preventable tragedies.
"He wants us panicked," Steve explained, his tactical mind already working through possibilities. "Wants us to break formation and make the first desperate move. Then he can exploit our mistakes."
"Last time we fought him, he was impatient," Pietro said, wincing as Kix finished bandaging his ribs. "He's playing a different game this time."
"We can't stay on Jabiim," T'Challa declared from his position beside Matt Murdock's unconscious form. "If we remain here, Ultron will destroy us piecemeal."
"So what do we do?" Barriss asked quietly. Her Master was coordinating the evacuation of wounded clones and loyalist militia scattered across Jabiim's surface. The young Mirialan's robes were soaked through and scorched, exhaustion written in every line of her body.
She sat beside Peter's bed, her hands moving in gentle healing motions over his injuries. Despite the difficulty of Force healing on someone not connected to the Force, she was making progress. Combined with Peter's enhanced healing factor, he would recover—but the timeline remained uncertain.
"What can we do?" Ahsoka asked, despair creeping into her voice. "Ultron won, didn't he? Jabiim is his now."
Steve's expression grew grim as he met each pair of eyes around the table. When he spoke, his words carried the weight of a man forced to acknowledge an unpleasant truth.
"Yes," he admitted. "Ultron has taken Jabiim."
Several people inhaled sharply. Hearing Captain America concede defeat was deeply unsettling.
But Steve wasn't finished.
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