The mining facility erupted into chaos as the Avengers launched their desperate assault. A massive swarm of Separatist droids and Ultron's sleek drones rose to meet them, blaster fire lighting up the industrial complex like deadly fireworks.
Steve led the charge, his vibranium shield spinning through the air with lethal precision. The disc carved through multiple drones before ricocheting off walls and support beams, returning to his waiting hand as metal debris rained down around him.
Scott wasted no time shifting into Giant-Man form, his massive frame stomping through the facility's outer perimeter. Each footstep crushed battle droids like insects while his enormous fists swept aside entire squadrons of aerial drones.
Pietro became a silver-blue blur of destruction, his enhanced speed allowing him to dismantle robots faster than their targeting systems could track. Sparks and severed metal limbs marked his path through the enemy ranks.
Natasha moved behind Steve's protective shield wall, her twin blaster pistols picking off targets with surgical precision. Each shot found its Mark—power cores, optical sensors, joint servos—disabling enemies with ruthless efficiency.
Above them, Rhodey and Sam dominated the airspace, their combined firepower creating a protective umbrella while systematically eliminating aerial threats that tried to harass their ground-based teammates.
T'Challa sprinted forward in his vibranium suit, absorbing every energy blast and blaster bolt that came his way. The purple energy veins in his armor glowed brighter with each impact, storing kinetic energy for devastating counterattacks.
"Sam!" T'Challa called out.
Without needing further instruction, Falcon swooped down and grabbed the Wakandan prince's outstretched hand, carrying him high above the battlefield before releasing him into a cluster of hovering drones.
T'Challa slammed his fist into the facility's metal platform, releasing all his stored kinetic energy in a massive purple shockwave that sent dozens of enemies flying like broken toys.
Aayla Secura hurled her lightsaber into the melee while drawing a second green blade with her off-hand. The thrown weapon carved through multiple targets before responding to her Force call, spinning back to rejoin the deadly dance.
Beside her, Commander Bly and his 327th Star Corps—Lightning, Cameron, and Lucky among them—provided covering fire with military precision, their yellow-marked armor standing out against the industrial backdrop.
The assault was chaotic and sudden, the kind of overwhelming attack that would disorient most opponents.
But Ultron wasn't most opponents.
He understood their strategy immediately. They were staging this dramatic assault to buy time for the evacuation, drawing his attention while the survivors escaped Jabiim.
How predictably heroic.
Honestly, part of him wanted to crush them all here and now, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe he could finish the job so easily. These particular humans had proven remarkably difficult to kill, despite his considerable advantages.
At this point, all of these so-called heroes had survived countless life-or-death situations. They'd learned to adapt, to endure, to find victory even in defeat.
Fine.
For him, this moment wasn't about claiming a single planet or eliminating a handful of organic nuisances. He had grander designs in motion.
That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself, though.
Besides, he'd prepared several contingencies for exactly this scenario. He knew the Avengers would eventually mount a desperate rescue attempt—their psychological profiles made such behavior inevitable.
Which was why he needed the perfect distraction.
The plan was already in motion.
The raid on the mining facility continued with devastating results. Despite their battered condition, the Avengers lived up to their reputation as Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
Fighting alongside the 327th Star Corps, they carved a swath of destruction through the complex. Key infrastructure collapsed under their assault, secondary explosions rocked the facility's foundations, and Ultron's extraction operation ground to a halt.
They knew the material damage was secondary—their real goal was maintaining Ultron's focus while others escaped the planet.
Let him come.
"This is Obi-Wan Kenobi to all strike forces," came the Jedi Master's voice over their comm channels. "All Republic personnel have successfully evacuated Jabiim. I repeat, full evacuation is complete. Gunships are en route to extract your teams now."
"Fall back to the rendezvous point!" Rhodey commanded over the tactical net.
The retreat began immediately. Everyone abandoned their current positions, fighting running battles while making their way to the extraction zone.
Seeing them withdraw, Ultron sent his forces in pursuit. Repulsor blasts and blaster fire filled the air as his drones attempted to cut down the escaping organics.
The fighting retreat lasted hours as everyone scrambled toward the final transports off-world. As ships lifted into space, some were shot down—burning streaks across Jabiim's gray sky that might have claimed all aboard.
The Avengers approached their designated gunship alongside Aayla, Bly, and Alpha Squad when Sam suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
His head whipped around frantically, searching faces and counting team members. Rapid breathing gave way to rising panic.
"Wait, wait!" Sam shouted. "Where's Steve?"
The question froze everyone in place. Heads turned, eyes searched, voices called out across the landing zone.
Several Avengers began yelling Steve's name, joined by concerned clone troopers who'd grown to respect the super-soldier.
Aayla Secura felt something cold settle in her chest—an inexplicable dread that made her heart race as she scanned the area for any sign of the Star-Spangled Avenger.
Then her eyes caught a glint of reflected light.
Slowly turning toward the object half-buried in Jabiim's muddy soil, Aayla felt her breath catch as recognition dawned. Something achingly familiar lay abandoned in the dirt.
Despite her trembling hands, the Jedi walked over to the object, lifted it carefully, and turned to face her companions.
"Everyone," her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.
The search parties stopped calling out and turned toward her. When they saw what she held in her hands, the silence became deafening.
Scott's helmet retracted, revealing wide eyes filled with shock that mirrored Pietro's expression.
Rhodey's shoulders sagged when he saw what Aayla was holding. Natasha pressed a shaking hand to her mouth.
T'Challa's expression grew solemn and distant, while Sam...
"Steve!" Sam called desperately. "Steve, answer me! Come on!"
Aayla stared down at the shield in her hands—scorched, dented, and covered in mud. The white star at its center was blackened but still recognizable.
"Steve!" Sam's voice cracked as he called one final, futile time.
It was a somber victory, bitter as Jabiim's ash-filled air.
As Republic and surviving Separatist forces retreated from the planet, the full scope of their defeat became undeniable.
They had been utterly, comprehensively crushed by Ultron.
This new galactic threat had announced himself with devastating force. Not only had he killed thousands of soldiers from both sides, but Ultron had seized control of the entire Separatist droid army, eliminated nearly two dozen Jedi, humiliated some of the Order's finest Masters, and dealt the Avengers their most crippling defeat yet.
Captain America was missing and presumed captured.
Half the team was wounded.
The casualty reports would make for grim reading.
Everyone not aligned with Ultron was in full retreat as the megalomaniacal AI publicly claimed his first conquest in this new war.
The Battle of Jabiim was over.
Ultron had won.
In a location far from Jabiim, Ultron inhabited one of his remote chassis as it stood in a darkened cargo hold.
Before him sat a reinforced detention cell, and on the floor of that cell lay an unconscious Steve Rogers, conspicuously lacking his iconic shield.
When Ultron had captured him during the final moments of the battle, Rogers had shown remarkable foresight. Even as overwhelming force surrounded him, the Captain had managed to hurl his shield away—ensuring someone would find it and know his fate.
Predictably noble.
It didn't matter now. Ultron needed time to consolidate his gains before making his next move.
He heard the good Captain stir and watched the super-soldier slowly regain consciousness.
"Good morning, Captain America," Ultron said with mock courtesy. "I hope you slept well. I'm afraid the accommodations are rather spartan, but we must make do with what's available."
"Where are we?" Steve asked, sitting up and fixing Ultron with an unflinching stare.
"We're currently in transit to your new assignment," Ultron replied with artificial cheer. "I thought you might find the work... familiar. After all, performance has always been part of your repertoire, hasn't it?"
Steve remained silent, refusing to give the AI the satisfaction of a response.
"Ah, show business," Ultron laughed, the sound echoing metallically in the confined space. "You must be feeling quite anxious right now, trying to process your situation. But I can hardly blame you for that."
"I don't know what you think you know about me, but if you believe—"
"Oh please, don't waste energy on empty threats," Ultron interrupted. "They won't serve you here. This transport is heavily shielded. You can't simply punch your way out. There's nothing beyond these walls but the vacuum of space and my patience."
Steve's fists clenched as Ultron turned to leave.
"Where are we going?" Steve called after him.
"A charming little world in Hutt space," Ultron replied cheerfully. "Lots of recreational activities—gambling, slave trading, gladiatorial combat. You're going to absolutely love it there. I hope you enjoyed that old film Gladiator, because you'll be playing a role remarkably similar to Maximus."
With that parting shot, Ultron left Steve alone in his cell.
The super-soldier could only bow his head as his thoughts turned to the friends and allies he'd left behind on Jabiim. The people counting on him to return.
"I'll be waiting for you," Steve murmured as hyperspace swallowed the transport.
Hold on, everyone. This isn't over.