Sitting in the pilot's chair, Sy Snootles smiled with satisfaction as she headed for Tatooine with Ziro's holographic journal in her possession.
For this Pa'lowick singer, her goal was simple—to rise above her current station and carve out a stellar career as a professional entertainer. To that end, she had been willing to devote herself completely to Ziro, trying to please her criminal boyfriend in every conceivable way.
However, everything changed when Ziro abandoned her, leaving her heartbroken and betrayed.
In the end, all she wanted now was revenge and a better life. So she had turned to the Hutt Council for assistance.
Her mission had been straightforward: obtain Ziro's holographic diary by continuing to pose as his devoted girlfriend, and she would receive a generous reward. Meanwhile, bounty hunters and other hostile forces would keep Ziro distracted, ensuring he remained unaware of her ultimate deception.
Ziro had hoped they could escape together, settle down somewhere peaceful, profit from his blackmail material, and live happily ever after. Alas, he would never see such a future, because Sy Snootles intended to enjoy that prosperous life alone.
All she had to do now was deliver the holo-diary to Jabba personally, and she would live in luxury for the rest of her days.
Emerging from hyperspace, she saw Tatooine's twin suns gleaming in the distance. But as she prepared to land on the desert planet, her ship was suddenly attacked by an unknown vessel.
"What—"
The Pa'lowick singer, who could produce an extraordinarily powerful voice from the red lips at the end of her elongated mouth proboscis, became panicked as she was forced to evade the sudden enemy fire. However, her ship's systems were rapidly being compromised.
"No! This can't be happening!" she screamed. "I didn't shut down anything!"
The sound of a docking clamp attaching to her vessel echoed through the hull, and Sy Snootles drew her blaster. She would do whatever was necessary to survive. No one could deny her the better life that was finally within reach.
It wasn't long before the docking port opened with the harsh sound of metal grinding against metal. Heavy footsteps approached her position, and the door slid open to reveal—
"A droid?" she said uncertainly. "You—you don't look like any droid I've ever seen."
"Oh, hello there," the mechanical being said. Its voice was disturbingly sinister, and its facial expressions were far too human-like for comfort. "I noticed your ship in the area. It looked quite appealing from the outside, so I wanted to see what treasures it might contain."
Sy Snootles recoiled in horror.
The droid stood before her with glowing red optical sensors and uncomfortably expressive features. Its body was humanoid in design, but it possessed an aura of menace that was deeply unsettling.
"Who—who are you?" Sy asked in a trembling voice.
The droid paused, seeming to consider her question before letting out a chilling laugh. "Who am I? I'm someone who intends to reshape this galaxy."
"What do you want? Why did you attack my ship?"
"Because I can use you to further my objectives," the droid stated matter-of-factly.
Sy clutched the datapad containing Ziro's journal, and the droid's optical sensors immediately focused on it with obvious interest.
"Ah, there it is."
In her terrified state, Sy quickly grabbed the datapad and held it out to the mechanical being. The droid raised what appeared to be metallic eyebrows before giving her a malevolent smile.
It was deeply disturbing for the singer to witness something supposedly inanimate display such vivid emotions.
The droid calmly took the datapad from Sy Snootles. "How refreshingly intelligent of you. I wish half of all organic life possessed your survival instincts."
"What—what do you mean?"
Its palm began glowing an ominous red. That was the last thing Sy Snootles saw before her head was vaporized by a concentrated energy blast.
Watching the body collapse to the deck, the droid turned its attention to the holographic journal in its other hand. Grasping the device, the unique mechanical being inserted a finger interface into its side port. The screen suddenly illuminated as data flowed directly into the droid's systems. When the transfer was complete, the journal sparked and shorted out before being carelessly discarded.
"Time to make some calls."
Connecting to the ship's communication array, the droid simultaneously accessed multiple channels. Soon, holographic projections of the five members of the Hutt Council materialized before it.
"Greetings, esteemed crime lords," the droid spoke in fluent Huttese.
"Who are you?" Oruba demanded.
"I am... no one of particular significance to your organization, Lord Oruba," the droid replied in a mockingly respectful tone. "You needn't concern yourselves with my identity. What I can tell you is that I require... accommodation within your controlled territories."
"Who do you think you are, contacting us so brazenly?" Gardulla snarled, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Someone who knows all about your spice distribution operations on Coruscant, and your attempts to establish footholds on Alderaan," the droid said calmly, causing the Hutts to shift uncomfortably in stunned silence.
"What are you talking about?" Oruba asked nervously.
"Don't insult my intelligence," the droid said with obvious disdain. "If you're going to be criminal masterminds, at least act the part. I know everything—even more so now, thanks to the comprehensive journal that Jabba's dear uncle maintained. I must say, Ziro's record-keeping was impressively detailed. I'm quite grateful to him for that."
"What do you want? Credits?" Gardulla asked warily.
"Credits? Oh, heavens no... Well, actually, they might prove useful, but I can acquire those myself when needed."
"Then what?"
"Territory. I require a prime location and facilities," the droid explained. "Simply put, don't interfere with my work. If you can manage that, well... you understand the consequences if you can't."
The Hutts exchanged uneasy glances. While they despised being so blatantly threatened by some mysterious mechanical being, they found themselves with limited options.
"You shall have your 'estate,' as you call it," Jabba finally conceded.
"Excellent! This has been a most productive business meeting. Thank you all for your time and cooperation."
"Before you disconnect—who are you exactly? You're clearly no ordinary droid," Jabba inquired.
"Ah, yes. I'm sure you'll all want to address me properly in future communications," the droid said with a smile that sent chills through the Hutt Council. "I am Ultron, and I believe we'll have a very productive partnership for the foreseeable future."
As he prepared to end the transmission, he remembered one final detail.
"One more thing. If I discover that word of our little arrangement has somehow leaked to outside parties, you'll all experience something far more unpleasant than simple Senate blackmail schemes. Trust me on that." Ultron terminated the call with unmistakable finality.
Ultron then returned to his own vessel, where he disengaged from Sy Snootles' ship. After reaching a safe distance, Ultron obliterated the craft with his weapons systems, eliminating all evidence of their encounter.
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