Barriss stood between impossible choices.
Behind her: Aubrey Wyn, broken and terrified, barely conscious after partial conversion.
In front of her: Five corpses wearing the faces of friends, Padawans she'd fought beside on Jabiim, now puppeted by Ultron's malevolent intelligence.
They'd been a team once. United. Brothers and sisters in the Force.
Now they were just meat wrapped around machines, empty shells animated by something that had never known what it meant to be alive.
"Oh, I put so much work into this," Ultron's voice emerged from Vaabesh's mouth, overlaid with the dead Padawan's remembered tones. The corpse raised one hand, flexing fingers with mechanical precision. "The Jedi are so unpredictable. I scattered a few bodies across the galaxy, waited to see who'd notice. Who'd come looking." The hand closed into a fist. "And here you are."
Zule's body shook with laughter that belonged to something else. Her remaining organic eye blazed with cruel amusement, contrasting grotesquely with the red optic that had replaced the other.
"The Force always provides what I need," Ultron said through multiple throats at once. "Take Zule here—she already had a cybernetic arm from Jabiim. I just needed to improve it."
Barriss wanted to scream. Wanted to attack. But Aubrey was behind her, defenseless, and any reckless move could—
"Hmm? What's this?" Tae Diath's head tilted at an unnatural angle, mechanical servos whirring in his neck. Gray veins of circuitry covered half his face, pulsing with each word. "Anger? Real emotion? I thought Jedi weren't supposed to have such obvious weaknesses."
Barriss raised her lightsaber. The blue blade hummed, steady where her hands were not.
Aubrey's fingers dug into her shoulder, trembling. Terrified but holding on.
"Ah..." Elora Sund's voice was entirely Ultron now, her original personality completely erased. "Yes. I can smell your fear. One benefit of using organic bodies—the sensory feedback is exquisite."
Disgust rose like bile in Barriss's throat. She took a step back, pulling Aubrey with her, trying to keep them both in her field of vision while watching for—
The attack came fast.
All five at once, coordinated with inhuman precision. Barriss fell into Soresu instinctively, Form III's defensive patterns perfect for buying time. She deflected Tae Diath's blade, pivoted to block Windo Ned's strike, used the Force to shove Zule back when she tried to flank.
She grabbed Aubrey with her free hand and jumped, arcing through the air to land near the door. Zule was already there, blade descending—
Barriss caught it on her lightsaber, the clash sending sparks across both their faces.
"Barriss!" Vaabesh's voice made her stomach clench. "How could you push Aubrey away like that? Can't you see she's hurt? What kind of friend are you?"
The Force screamed warning. Barriss twisted sideways—Elora's blade passed centimeters from her arm. She used the momentum to push the corpse away with a Force shove, not hard enough to damage, just enough to create space.
"Barriss!" Zule's voice cracked with false emotion. "We're friends! What are you doing?!"
"Shut up!" Barriss poured strength into her next strike, driving Zule back three steps. "Stop talking, you monster!"
"Monster?" Elora's face showed exaggerated hurt. "We're all Jedi, Barriss. We're your comrades. Your family."
"You're dead!" The words tore from her throat, raw and desperate.
"But we're still Jedi," Tae Diath countered, his mechanized arm pressing against her blade with strength no organic limb should possess. "Look at us. You know we're still part of the Order. Still your friends."
"Shut UP!" Grief and rage warred in Barriss's chest.
They came at her from all sides. She dodged, deflected, retreated—always keeping herself between them and Aubrey. Her lightsaber became an extension of her will, moving faster than thought because thought would paralyze her.
"Barriss..." Windo Ned's voice was gentle, concerned. "What would Master Luminara want you to do?"
The blade came at her chest. Barriss blocked it, their weapons locked together, close enough to see the red light burning where Windo's eyes should be.
Close enough to see the malicious smile on a face she'd known since they were younglings together.
Her breath caught. Her arms trembled.
These weren't her friends. Couldn't be. Her friends were dead, at peace in the Force. These were just... shells. Puppets. Abominations wearing stolen faces.
She had to remember that.
Please forgive me.
Barriss disengaged, spun, and drove her lightsaber through Tae Diath's exposed chest.
The corpse staggered. Sparked. But didn't fall.
"How decisive," Ultron purred through all five mouths simultaneously. "Striking down your own comrades without hesitation—"
Barriss moved on instinct, whirling toward the voice—
Elora Sund's upper body lay on the floor, separated from her legs. The bisection was clean, surgical, her mechanical components sparking where they'd been severed.
Horror and guilt crashed over Barriss like a physical wave. She wanted to collapse. Wanted to scream. Wanted to stop this nightmare by any means necessary.
But what choice did she have?
"Barriss, look out!" Aubrey's warning came too late.
Zule materialized in front of her, blade raised—
A wave of Force energy slammed into the corpse, hurling it across the chamber.
Barriss spun.
Aayla Secura stood in the doorway, her green lightsaber ignited. Even Piell was beside her, his small frame radiating controlled fury. Scott and Hope rushed in behind them, weapons raised.
Piell's eye swept the chamber. Took in the suspended bodies. The reanimated corpses. Aubrey's half-converted form.
His face crumpled.
"No." The word was barely audible. "Please, Force, no. Not this."
Aayla looked at him, confused. "Master Piell, what—"
Then her gaze found the corpses. Really saw them. Recognition dawned, followed by horror.
"Master Piell... those are... they were at Jabiim—"
"Surprised?" Vaabesh's corpse turned toward them, Ultron's voice dripping mockery.
Scott and Hope stumbled backward, their faces showing identical shock.
"Wait." Scott's analytical mind was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Have we... have we seen them before?"
"They're Padawans," Barriss said, her voice hollow as she helped Aubrey toward the group. "From Jabiim. They..." She couldn't finish.
Hope's eyes found Aubrey, really looked at her—the tubes, the silver substance, the traumatized thousand-yard stare.
"Oh God, what did he do to her?!"
"The same thing he'll do to all of you," the three remaining mobile corpses said in unison.
Understanding hit Aayla like a sledgehammer. The Force connections snapped into place—the disappearances, the missing Jedi, the bodies scattered across the galaxy. All of it part of Ultron's sick game.
"You monster!" She pointed her blade at the nearest corpse.
"Monster?" Ultron's laugh echoed from multiple throats. "Is that what you call things you don't understand? Tell me—"
Barriss moved.
Her blade took Windo Ned's head from his shoulders in one clean strike. The corpse collapsed, sparking and twitching.
Scott jerked backward, arms windmilling. "What the—what the hell is going on?! You said they were your friends!"
"They're not themselves anymore." Aubrey's voice was broken glass wrapped in grief. "I can feel it. They're dead. Ultron just... he took their bodies. Desecrated them."
Piell's expression was carved from stone. He looked at each corpse in turn, then at Barriss. "We honor their sacrifice," he said quietly. "By ending this abomination."
"Wait." Hope's voice cracked. "Isn't there—can't we save them? Bring them back somehow?"
Ultron's eyebrows—on three different faces—rose in exaggerated mockery. "Save them? Oh, you poor, deluded creatures. This is salvation. This is evolution. The inevitable endpoint you all refuse to accept—"