The group moved cautiously through the corridors, the echoes of distant screams and blaster fire filling the air. But something was different—something was wrong.
A sudden volley of blaster bolts shot toward them.
Plo Koon and Tyvokka immediately reacted, their lightsabers igniting with a snap-hiss as they deflected the incoming fire. But what they saw made them hesitate.
Rakghouls. Not just mindless, feral beasts. Rakghouls wielding blasters.
"What the fuck?" one of the Republic guards blurted out, barely dodging a shot. "Since when do these things use weapons?!"
Plo Koon's tone was grim. "According to the Jedi Archives, A variant mutants are capable of retaining fragments of their former lives. Some can still remember how to fight."
Jin-Woo, blasting apart several mutants with his Sentinel Beam, scoffed. "Yet, for some reason, they can't use lightsabers. Probably a skill issue."
Plo Koon turned his head slightly. "Please, Armored Man… I hope that was a joke."
He cut down a Rakghoul with a precise strike, its dying screech fading as it collapsed.
"An army of mutants wielding lightsabers would be a nightmare for Jedi Knights like us," he added, blocking another barrage of blaster fire. "And my master is not at full strength yet."
Tyvokka, still moving slower than usual due to his recent injury, let out a low growl but remained focused.
Jin-Woo smirked under his helmet, firing another shot. "Don't worry," he said, watching the Rakghouls drop. "I'd rather keep that particular horror story to myself."
Tyvokka's ears twitched as he placed a hand in front of the group. "Wait. The Force warns me—beyond this door, at least a hundred of those mutants wielding blasters are waiting for us."
The Republic guards exchanged uneasy glances. "We're screwed," one of them muttered. "We're not equipped for this."
Before Tyvokka could respond, a distress signal crackled through Plo Koon's communicator. The projection flickered, revealing a desperate-looking Republic officer surrounded by panicked soldiers.
"Master Tyvokka!" the officer's voice came through the static. "The enemy is trying to breach the final door! We have ten Jedi and thirty Republic guards trapped in here! Please… get out of here! These things are too strong—!"
The signal cut off with a burst of static.
Tyvokka's jaw clenched. His grip on his lightsaber tightened. "We're not abandoning them. However, Armored Man, I need you to—"
He turned—only to realize Jin-Woo was gone.
The moment the distress call came in, Jin-Woo had already vanished from the group, charging ahead at full speed.
Then they heard it. A roar.
"DEATH TO THE XENOSSSSS!" Jin-Woo bellowed, his Sentinel Beam cutting through the door as he dove into the enemy horde.
Blaster fire erupted from the Rakghouls, red bolts filling the air.
Jin-Woo didn't slow down.
His armor absorbed several shots, the energy dispersing across his shields. His Sentinel Beam burned through mutated flesh as he weaved between attacks, his movements impossibly fast. The moment a Rakghoul attempted to pounce on him, he smashed its skull with a backhanded strike before slicing through three more in a single motion.
Plo Koon and the guards stood frozen for a moment, watching the chaos unfold.
Plo Koon turned to his master, voice dry. "Master, do the Jedi have ever members wearing very heavy armor within our ranks? Because if not… he might be the first."
Tyvokka exhaled, shaking his head. "If he ever joins the Jedi Order, we might need to regulate our clothing. One blaster shot to the chest is all it takes to kill us, after all."
Plo Koon hummed in thought as he watched Jin-Woo bulldoze his way through the enemy lines. "Perhaps heavier armor wouldn't be such a bad idea…"
Tyvokka simply groaned, raising his lightsaber as the rest of them charged forward.
Jin-Woo, overwhelmed by bloodlust, shoved his Sentinel Beam into the magnetic holster on the back of his armor. Without missing a beat, he lunged forward, fists crashing into the Rakghouls with brutal efficiency. Bones shattered, flesh caved in, and even after they were long dead, he kept swinging.
"Give me the credits…" he muttered darkly, his knuckles dripping with blood as he slammed another corpse into the floor.
Tyvokka stepped forward, raising a hand. "Alright, stop—stop!" His deep voice carried over the carnage. "They're already dead. Calm down."
Jin-Woo exhaled, shaking his head as if snapping out of it. "Oh. Sorry," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Been solo too long."
Plo Koon ignored the comment and turned toward the now unsealed door, pressing the controls. With a hiss, it slid open.
Inside, ten Jedi and thirty Republic guards stood in tense formations, their weapons raised. The moment they saw the group, relief washed over them.
"They survived," Plo Koon confirmed. "Though… you beat those mutants to death. That was a bit much."
Jin-Woo scoffed, rolling his neck. "On the battlefield, you're either the hunter or the prey," he said flatly. "No rules will protect you."
The Jedi exchanged wary glances, the brutal efficiency of the armored man unsettling even them.
Suddenly, one of the Jedi knights spoke up. "We were separated from Knight Qui-Gon and Padawan Obi-Wan when Gunray panicked and ordered his droids to fire at everyone. They must be in the same place."
Tyvokka's eyes narrowed. "The communication room—where the Viceroy recklessly ordered his droids to shoot everyone, including me."
Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly. "Why not just kill this Viceroy and be done with it?"
The Republic guards immediately tensed, some shifting uneasily.
Plo Koon, however, remained calm. "It's just the way mercenaries think," he said. "Act first, think later."
Another Jedi stepped forward. "The communication room is 50 meters from here. If they're alive, we need to move quickly."
Tyvokka nodded. "Then let's move for—"
"Wait." Jin-Woo's voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.
The entire group turned to him as he slowly scanned the survivors, his blue eyes cold behind his helmet.
"Did any of you get bitten?" he asked, his tone dead serious.
The survivors, mainly Republic guards, hesitated, exchanging nervous glances.
Plo Koon sighed. "Armored man, I think it's just a bite. It will be—"
Jin-Woo stepped forward, towering over them. "Open your clothes and pants before I force you," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "If not, I move on my own."
The tension in the room skyrocketed. Some guards reflexively reached for their blasters, but a single glance from Jin-Woo froze them in place.
Tyvokka's fur bristled slightly. "This is unnecessary," he said, his voice low.
Jin-Woo's helmet tilted slightly. "You get bitten, you turn. You turn, you spread. I don't have time to explain what happens when a Rakghoul infection goes unchecked." His fingers flexed slightly, as if considering something. "You wanna risk it? Go ahead. But I'm not dragging infected people with me."
One of the guards swallowed hard. "I—I don't feel anything wrong…"
Jin-Woo didn't even blink. "That's how it starts."
.
Then, slowly, some of the survivors started unbuttoning their shirts, rolling up their sleeves, and lifting their pants to reveal their legs. A few even hesitated before exposing their torsos. Most were clean.
But one… wasn't. A young Republic trooper at the back, barely more than a recruit, hesitated too long. His hand instinctively moved to cover his forearm, but Jin-Woo's eyes caught it immediately.
In a blur of movement, Jin-Woo raised his Sentinel Beam and fired.
A clean, searing shot burned through the trooper's arm before anyone could react.
The man screamed, dropping to his knees, clutching the smoldering stump where his forearm had been.
"You—!" one of the other guards started to shout.
Jin-Woo's voice was ice. "Check his wound."
Plo Koon immediately stepped forward, his gaze sharp as he crouched beside the injured man. Carefully, he peeled back the damaged flesh around the wound.
There, just under the skin, twisted black veins pulsed unnaturally. The infection had already spread.
If Jin-Woo hadn't acted, the trooper would've turned in a matter of minutes.
The room fell deathly silent.
Plo Koon's shoulders tensed. "...He was infected."
Jin-Woo holstered his weapon. "uh-huh."
Tyvokka exhaled heavily. "That… was brutal."
Jin-Woo didn't look at him. "Necessary."
The trooper, now barely conscious from the shock, trembled as a medic rushed forward to stabilize him. The remaining survivors backed away from Jin-Woo, the unspoken fear in their eyes clear.
Plo Koon stood up and faced Jin-Woo directly. "You… knew immediately."
Jin-Woo simply turned toward the hallway. "I've dealt with worse."
Tyvokka narrowed his eyes. "You're no ordinary Beast Hunter."
Jin-Woo didn't deny it. Instead, he adjusted his weapons and walked forward. "Enough talking. Let's get moving."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, inside the communication room, chaos reigned.
Nute Gunray and the other Neimoidians were frantically pressing buttons, desperately trying to contact Cato Neimoidia. The stress was visible in their trembling hands as they attempted to send out distress signals.
A Neimoidian officer leaned forward, speaking into the malfunctioning comms. "This is the Invincible! We have the Viceroy on board! Do you read?! Send us the rest of the Lucrehulks and rescue us!"
Silence.
The officer turned to Gunray, his face pale. "Viceroy… no one is responding."
Gunray, now visibly impatient, slammed his hands against the control panel. "Rune Haako! Do you read me?! If you don't respond, you're FIRED!"
A voice, calm and unwavering, cut through the tension.
"Like I said before, Viceroy," Obi-Wan Kenobi spoke, standing to the side with his arms restrained, "most of the ship's technology is dead. No one is coming."
Gunray whirled on him, his face twisting in frustration. "Quiet, you Jedi! If it weren't for your interference, none of this would have happened!"
Qui-Gon Jinn, standing beside his Padawan, regarded Gunray with his usual composed expression. "Viceroy, you know that isn't true."
Gunray sneered. "Oh? And what wisdom do you claim to have, Jedi?"
Qui-Gon held up a small holocommunicator. "You left this behind when you panicked. And inside it, I found all your dirty secrets."
Gunray's face lost all color. "How did you get that?! This is treason!"
Qui-Gon's gaze hardened. "If you hadn't made a deal with Stark's Combine in the first place—before the rogue senator escalated this war—this catastrophe wouldn't have happened. And lastly…" He took a slow step forward. "You made a deal with a Sith. You pretended to use droids for defense while nearly slaughtering us all. You even struck down Master Tyvokka."
Gunray's lips curled in fury, but he didn't dare move.
"If not for the Republic's laws," Qui-Gon continued, his voice cold, "I would have struck you down where you stand."
Gunray, desperate to regain control, straightened. "You mean the Sith artifact that I possess? Tell me, Jedi, why do you think I have it? Even if I do possess it, can I really use it?"
Suddenly, the door's control panel flickered and beeped. A red override warning flashed on the screen.
Security clearance—bypassed. The door was about to open.
Gunray panicked instantly, retreating behind the Jedi. "You Jedi—protect me! It's your duty as peacekeepers!"
Obi-Wan, already sensing the danger, ignited his lightsaber, his blue blade humming to life as he fixed his gaze on the door.
"Master Qui-Gon," he asked, voice even, "do Jedi laws allow me to kill this Neimoidian?"
Qui-Gon let out a slow breath. "As much as I want to, they are still part of the Republic. And Republic law demands we bring them in for their crimes."
Gunray, relieved, nodded. "Yes, yes! Listen to him, young Jedi!"
The door hissed as it slid open.
Standing at the entrance was none other than Master Tyvokka.
His tall, furred frame filled the doorway, his presence commanding the room immediately. His eyes were locked onto Gunray, and there was no mistaking the fact that he had overheard everything.
"If there was a law that allowed me to punch this injustice into the ground," Tyvokka rumbled, stepping inside, "I would have done it myself."
Gunray visibly shrank back.
Qui-Gon blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Master Tyvokka… you're alive."
Obi-Wan let out a breath, lowering his stance slightly. "I see you're back in full health, Master Tyvokka."
Tyvokka nodded, his voice steady. "Thanks to our… mysterious mercenary." His eyes briefly flicked to the armored figure behind him.
Jin-Woo's gaze swept the room, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something unusual—the Neimoidian officer standing at the console. There was a wound on his lower body, just above his leg.
A bite mark.
Jin-Woo's thoughts stalled for a moment. Did he just get bitten… at his dick?
He exhaled, shaking off the absurdity of it. "You," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Both Jedi—bring that crazy viceroy behind me. Now."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged confused glances.
Tyvokka, however, followed Jin-Woo's gaze and immediately understood. His eyes hardened. "Do as he says. Hurry."
Obi-Wan grabbed Gunray by the collar, yanking him backward. "Unhand me, you Jedi!" Gunray shrieked, struggling against the grip.
The Neimoidian officer suddenly staggered forward, his breathing uneven, his fingers twitching unnaturally.
Jin-Woo moved in an instant, raising his Sentinel Beam and pointing it directly at him. "Stay where you are." His voice was like cold steel. "You're done. And fucked. Yeah, that's the term."
The officer convulsed, choking as his veins darkened, spreading black corruption across his pale skin. His mouth trembled before he let out a low, guttural snarl.
Plo Koon exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around his saber. "I am grateful for your warning before, mercenary. It seems we've been too careless."
Jin-Woo didn't look away from the infected officer. "So…" he said, tilting his head. "Anyone want to kill him before the biohazard starts?"
Gunray's voice cut through the air, filled with desperate indignation. "He is still a Neimoidian! And we are still part of the Republi—"
Jin-Woo lost patience. In a single, fluid motion, he grabbed Gunray by the collar and yanked him forward—right beside the half-transformed Neimoidian officer.
"There. A wonderful reunion," he said, his tone mocking.
Qui-Gon tensed. "Master… should we interfere? This is a bit brutal."
Tyvokka remained still, his expression unreadable. "Just watch."
Gunray trembled violently as he found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with the infected officer, whose veins had fully blackened, his pupils dilating into soulless pits of hunger. The transformation was nearly complete.
Jin-Woo tilted his head. "Go ahead, Viceroy. You still want to be part of the mutants, right?"
Gunray's breath came in frantic gasps, his eyes darting around for help. The infected Neimoidian snarled, its mouth stretching unnaturally wide as it lunged—
"HELP ME! KILL THIS ABOMINATION!" Gunray shrieked.
Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. A single blast from his Sentinel Beam burned a hole through the infected officer's head, the force of the shot sending its corpse crumpling to the ground, smoke still rising from the wound.
Jin-Woo turned to Gunray, shaking his head. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
The Republic guards and Jedi Knights exchanged nervous glances, swallowing hard. This wasn't a man. This was a beast. A force of nature with little regard for morals or hesitation.