Barriss turned in the direction Even Piell had indicated.
A corridor stretched before her. Short. Dark. Ending in a door that shouldn't exist—smooth metal where the wall should have been solid, no markings, no indicators, just a barrier between her and whatever lay beyond.
Her breathing quickened. Each inhale felt insufficient, like the air had turned thin. Pressure built in her chest, behind her ribs, a physical weight pressing down on her lungs. Sweat beaded on her forehead, cold despite the ambient temperature.
The wrongness in the Force was screaming now. Not a whisper or a disturbance—a full-throated howl of agony that made her teeth ache.
She walked forward anyway.
The world narrowed. Sound faded—the distant explosions, the comms chatter, Piell's voice calling after her—all of it muffled as if she'd been submerged underwater. Her vision tunneled, focused entirely on that door, and she barely registered crossing the distance.
Her hand rose without conscious thought, trembling. The Force gathered at her fingertips, and the door's locking mechanism surrendered to her will.
The door slid open.
Barriss stepped into darkness.
Lights activated automatically, blindingly bright after the dimness of the corridor. She squeezed her eyes shut, waited for the spots to fade, then opened them to see—
No.
Her mind rejected what her eyes reported. This couldn't be real. Couldn't be possible.
Six bodies hung suspended in the chamber. Not on tables or in tubes—suspended, held upright by mechanical harnesses that pierced their flesh at shoulders and hips. Tubes ran into their bodies at dozens of points, pumping silver fluid through systems that should have been filled with blood.
She knew these faces.
Knew them as well as her own reflection. Had fought beside them. Meditated with them. Shared meals in the Temple refectory and trained together in the practice yards.
Aubrey Wyn. Tae Diath. Elora Sund. Windo Nend. Zule Xiss. Vaabesh.
The Jabiim survivors.
But they couldn't be here. Some had died on Jabiim—she'd felt their deaths in the Force, mourned them properly. Others had returned to Coruscant with her. She'd seen them at the Temple just days ago.
How—
The answer hit her like a physical blow.
Ultron hadn't just taken Even Piell. He'd been hunting Jedi for months. Plucking them from across the galaxy, one by one, and the Order hadn't noticed because he'd been careful. Strategic. Taking those who might be missed less, or framing their disappearances as combat casualties.
Barriss's face went white. Her hand flew to her mouth as her stomach tried to revolt. Tears blurred her vision but she couldn't look away, couldn't—
A gasp.
Wet, pained, desperate.
"Aubrey!" Barriss lunged forward, nearly tripping in her haste.
Aubrey Wyn's eyes were open—barely, just slits—and filled with confusion and terror. Her body was covered in the same silver substance coating all of them, but hers was different. Incomplete. The conversion process was still active, tubes pulsing with each pump of alien fluid into her veins.
Barriss's hands hovered over her, trembling. She wanted to rip the tubes out, tear away the harness, free Aubrey from this nightmare. But medical training warred with desperation. Pulling them out wrong could kill her. Could sever arteries or damage organs or—
Aubrey's eyes snapped fully open.
She screamed.
"Aubrey, stop! Stop!" Barriss grabbed her shoulders—carefully, so carefully. "It's me! It's Barriss! You have to stay calm, you have to—"
Aubrey thrashed against her restraints, the harness biting deeper into her flesh. Blood mixed with the silver substance, running in rivulets down her arms.
"Aubrey!" Barriss's voice cracked. "Listen to my voice! Focus on me! You're safe, I'm here, just please stay still—"
"Barriss?" The word was barely recognizable, torn from a throat raw from screaming. "Is it... really you?"
"Yes." Barriss forced her hands steady, calling on the Force. Healing energy flowed from her palms, soothing inflamed tissue, calming traumatized nerves. "I'm here. Just hold on. I'm getting you out."
She started with the smallest tube, the one that looked least vital. Gripped it firmly and pulled.
Aubrey whimpered.
"I know," Barriss whispered, working as quickly as she dared. "I know it hurts. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"
"What... happened?" Aubrey's voice was thread-thin. "I can't... remember..."
Tears streamed down her face. Not from physical pain—from something deeper. Something worse.
"I don't know," Barriss lied, because the truth would break what was left of Aubrey's sanity. "But you're safe now. Just focus on breathing."
Aubrey's hand shot out, fingers digging into Barriss's forearm with desperate strength. "Make it stop."
"Make what—"
"The screaming." Fresh tears carved paths through the silver residue on Aubrey's cheeks. "They're dead but they're screaming, Barriss. He brought them back. He didn't care how much it hurt. He kept killing them and bringing them back and changing them and they're still screaming through the Force and I can hear them, Barriss, please, please make it stop—"
Barriss's hands froze. Her own tears fell freely now, dripping onto Aubrey's chest.
She could hear it too. Once Aubrey said it, once she listened, she could hear the echoes in the Force. Souls trapped in dead flesh, aware but unable to escape, forced to experience every violation of their bodies while—
Barriss covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hold back a sob.
She couldn't do this. Couldn't stay calm. Couldn't be the healer Aubrey needed because her own trauma was rising like a flood, threatening to drown her.
But she had to.
Barriss forced her hands back to work, pulling tubes, using the Force to seal the wounds they left behind. She couldn't look at the others. Couldn't let herself see what had been done to Vaabesh's chest—split open, organs replaced with wiring—or how Zule had been torn in half and fused back together with mechanical components bridging the gap.
She focused on Aubrey. Only Aubrey.
Almost done. Just a few more tubes. Just—
"Barriss." Aubrey's voice was hollow. "The others... are they...?"
"Don't look at them." Barriss physically turned Aubrey's head away from the suspended corpses. "Just focus on me. We're almost—"
"Oh, come now." The voice was synthesized, metallic, dripping with malicious amusement. "Why deny her a chance to see her new friends? To witness their progress?"
Barriss turned slowly, though every instinct screamed not to.
The five dead Padawans' eyes had opened.
All of them glowing red.
"Come on, Barriss." Tae Diath's mouth moved, but Ultron's voice emerged, puppeting the corpse like a sick marionette. "Aubrey should at least see what she's becoming."
"Yeah," Vaabesh's body added, his violated chest heaving with artificial breath. "Don't deprive her of the opportunity. Let her see what evolution brings."
Aubrey's scream was a thing of pure horror. She clung to Barriss, nails digging in, whole body shaking.
"Ohhh." Zule's corpse smiled—one side of her face still recognizable, the other replaced entirely by Ultron's chrome plating, red optic blazing where her eye should be. "Is that anger I sense? Aren't you Jedi supposed to be all about peace and love and compassion?"
Barriss wanted to attack. Wanted to destroy these abominations wearing her friends' faces. But her lightsaber remained unlit, her body frozen by impossible conflict.
These were corpses. Empty shells. The souls trapped inside were already beyond saving, their suffering a product of Ultron's cruelty.
But they were still her friends. Still the faces she'd known and trusted. Even destroyed, even desecrated, she couldn't bring herself to—
Aubrey was in no condition to fight. Barely conscious. Traumatized beyond measure.
Getting her out was all that mattered.
The corpses began to move.
Tae Diath, Zule, and Windo Ned detached from their harnesses, landing in crouches that no living body could achieve. Joints bent at wrong angles. Movements perfectly synchronized, perfectly inhuman.
Barriss stepped in front of Aubrey, her lightsaber finally igniting. The blue blade cast harsh shadows, making the advancing corpses look even more nightmarish.
"So." All five spoke in unison, Ultron's voice overlaid with the remembered tones of the dead. "Shall we begin?"