There was a moment of silence. Then, without missing a beat, Qui-Gon answered calmly.
"It was Master Yoda," he said, nodding once in the Grandmaster's direction. "As always… his perception is sharp. He noticed something wasn't adding up in Dooku's responses almost immediately."
He clasped his hands together atop the table. "As for me… I began to suspect something when the duel didn't line up. Master Dooku is the finest duelist in the Jedi Order. Even Mandalorian fighting styles shouldn't have overwhelmed him like that—not without the Force playing a deeper role. And then…"
He glanced at Yoda briefly.
"I consulted with Master Yoda directly. Shared my observations. His instincts confirmed it. Something had been tampered with. Something intentional."
Jin-Woo let the silence stretch again. Then, with a faint chuckle beneath the helmet, he nodded once.
"Bravo," he said dryly. "You figured out the first puzzle."
He leaned back slightly, arms still crossed as the shadows around his armor shifted subtly with his breath.
"Dooku asked me something, that you know aswell," Jin-Woo continued. "He asked what I wanted. And I asked him the same."
Yoda's ears twitched gently as he gave a small nod, tapping his gimer stick softly. "Yes. I know. He spoke with me—after your duel. He said… he wanted to reduce casualties. Jedi are peacekeepers no longer. Guardians of the galaxy, we have become. And your armor…" Yoda looked at him directly. "He said your technology could perform miracles. Regeneration beyond bacta. Healing we've never seen. He saw a future where fewer Jedi died in war."
Jin-Woo tilted his head. "At least you both see it. You're not blinded by the usual self-righteousness."
Qui-Gon's voice followed gently, "But… must you have sealed his memory? His words?"
Jin-Woo didn't flinch. "That was the wager. He won—he would've gotten my formula. I won…" he gestured faintly with one gloved hand, "and part of the truth about me stays buried ."
He leaned forward slightly, gaze sharp behind the mask. "And more importantly… he was the one who proposed it. So determined that his idea of 'greater good' was absolute."
Qui-Gon met his stare and calmly asked, "May I ask that you release the seal?"
Jin-Woo's response came without hesitation. "No. That's something I won't do. Not now… and not for the next twenty years."
Qui-Gon gave a subtle nod, quietly accepting the rejection without further argument.
Yoda, ever the pivot when tension rose, gently shifted topics. His voice was low and curious. "Change the subject, I will. Korda Six… its landscape changed. A new map, they call it now." His ears twitched. "Are you involved in that conflict, Armored Man?"
Jin-Woo leaned back, a grin tugging beneath his helmet. "Yeah. That was me. The battle with Tor Vizsla… was entertaining."
Yoda's ears twitched slightly, eyes narrowing with faint curiosity. "Must you always wear a mask on every appearance?" he asked, voice calm but probing.
Jin-Woo leaned forward a touch, his voice flat. "Yes. I have… a problem I need to solve first."
Yoda hummed knowingly. "I understand now. When Dooku said I would need to be ready in nine years… he wasn't speaking out of pride. As for my current state…" Yoda paused, tapping his cane once. "I don't have the standing… to free my apprentice."
Jin-Woo said nothing. But beneath the mask, his smile curved just slightly.
Beside him, Qui-Gon turned his head toward the small Grandmaster and whispered, "Master… what did you mean when you said if you fought this man, you would lose?"
Yoda kept his gaze on Jin-Woo, but whispered back, "He is not a Force user… at least, not as we sense it. And not from this galaxy. But in my gut, I feel it." His voice grew even quieter. "Strong he is on par with Master windu ."
Jin-Woo rose from his seat . "Can I leave now?"
"I have other matters to attend to." he asked very directly .
Yoda gave a small nod. "Go, you may."
Jin-Woo turned without another word, his boots echoing against the polished floor of the Sundari palace chamber. But just as he reached the doorway, Yoda's voice followed him—calm, but sharp with intent.
"Hear it, I did not. But all know what Mandalore holds—its treasure. The beskar. You, Armored Man… what will you do with it? A mercenary type, you are."
Jin-Woo paused in the doorway, one foot already beyond the threshold. His voice carried back with a grin hidden in the steel.
"To level myself up." And then he was gone.
The room fell silent for a moment, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Qui-Gon turned toward Yoda slowly. "Master Yoda… is he a Sith?"
Yoda didn't answer right away. His eyes remained on the door Jin-Woo had passed through, his expression unreadable.
"I do not know," Yoda finally said, his voice low and grave. "But… I saw it. A faint trace. A shadow—very small, very distant." His ears lowered slightly as he added, "That armor of his… it is not for protection."
He turned to face his old student fully now. "It is a cage. A restraint. Holding back something… vast."
-------------------------------------------
Jin-Woo stepped calmly into the next meeting room, the echo of his armored boots tapping across the sleek floor. The air inside held a weight—political, emotional, and historical.
Seated or standing in a wide circle were the key figures of Mandalore's future and its fragile present: Duchess Satine Kryze, her younger sister Bo-Katan standing with arms crossed; Obi-Wan Kenobi at Satine's side, eyes alert but unreadable; Jango Fett and Jaster Mereel flanking a table at the far end—one a hardened bounty hunter, the other a weathered warrior who'd seen too much civil strife.
Jin-Woo scanned the room and immediately noted a particular absence.
"Where's Pre Vizsla?" he asked plainly, voice cool through his helmet. "I know he's not a crybaby. He understands what his father chose. He should know the weight of that legacy."
Bo-Katan, her expression sharp and defensive, answered before anyone else could. "Let a man grieve, will you? You cleaved his father in half. Tor Vizsla died with his torso and legs separated by your sword. That's not exactly easy to get over."
Jin-Woo didn't blink. "That day,"
he said evenly, "was war."
He looked around the room, voice dropping an octave.
"Every cheat tactic. Every ambush. Every dirty move. All of it—legal. He chose that fight. He proposed the rules. He swung first. I just… ended it."
Jaster gave a subtle nod. "And you ended a war we've been bleeding in for years."
Jin-Woo leaned forward slightly, the faint mechanical hum of his exoframe settling with the motion. "Before we continue—because honestly, it's been gnawing at me—I need to clear something up."
His helmeted gaze moved between the two women.
"Satine Kryze and Bo-Katan Kryze. You're sisters… but the way you two clash, you're willing to tear each other apart over your ideals."
The room held its breath for half a beat.
Bo-Katan and Satine turned their heads in perfect sync and snapped in unison, "Piss off, Armored Man."
Even Jin-Woo paused for a second, not expecting the exact same words from both.
Obi-Wan blinked, his tone half-in disbelief. "I've never seen the day… where Satine speaks like that."
Satine gave him a quick glance, only slightly sheepish. "Even I have limits, Obi-Wan. And this… tin man tends to test them."
Bo-Katan smirked faintly. "Internal problem," she repeated. "Family business. You wouldn't understand. Besides…"
She nodded at Jango. "We already know what you want. Jango filled us in before you stomped in."
Jango gave a casual shrug. "Figured it'd save time."
Bo-Katan jerked her chin toward an open seat across from Satine. "Take a seat."
Jin-Woo said nothing. With a low hiss of his exoframe joints, he moved and sat down in silence, elbows resting on the chair's arms. The weight of his presence fell across the room like a drawn curtain.
Bo-Katan crossed her arms, her tone clipped but composed. "As temporary representative of Death Watch, we'll comply. Our… former leader," she paused for a breath, "got cut in half and his final order was to follow the Armored Man's command. That means taking refuge under Jaster Mereel and supporting Satine Kryze's rule for twenty years."
Jin-Woo leaned back slightly in the chair, his fingers tapping once against the armrest. "You still angry about that?"
Bo-Katan's eyes narrowed. "You brutally killed him in front of his men. Some of them still can't sleep right. You left half of him twitching in the dirt. Yeah, I'm angry. And now we're supposed to hand over twenty percent of Mandalore's beskar to the guy who did it?"
She scoffed. "You didn't just take his life. You impacted Death Watch—shattered the old guard before the new one's even been chosen."
Obi-Wan raised a brow, folding his arms calmly as he stood near Satine. "To be honest, I'm just as surprised. Of all people in the galaxy… you, Armored Man, with arguably the most advanced technology we've ever seen—you're the one asking for beskar? And not just a little. Twenty percent? That's… substantial."
Jin-Woo sat quietly, saying nothing—only that faint smile beneath his mask gave away any reaction. His silence, as always, spoke volumes.
Satine took a calm breath, stepping forward slightly. "Armored Man," she said gently, "I do thank you. For ending the Mandalorian Civil War—even if only for twenty years. You've given us a window. A chance to rebuild. Perhaps even… a chance to change my sister's ideals."
Bo-Katan immediately rolled her eyes, arms folding across her chest. "That's not gonna happen. Not in twenty years. Not in a hundred. You pacifists need a reality check."
Satine raised a hand, eyes never leaving Jin-Woo. "Let me finish."
Bo-Katan scoffed but said nothing more.
"I know what beskar is capable of," Satine continued, voice even. "It's the hardest metal in the galaxy. Even lightsabers have difficulty with it. And I understand the value you're asking for. Twenty percent is... considerable." She clasped her hands in front of her. "Could we negotiate? Perhaps… five percent instead. A symbolic stake. You'd still be the only outsider with a claim."
Bo-Katan glanced sideways with a smirk. "At least my sister's finally learning how to negotiate. That's progress."
Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly, tone as casual as ever. "Family power. Power of friendship. It really does run deep in this galaxy."
He leaned back a little, his voice sharpening just slightly beneath the humor. "But it's about to become seinen now that I'm here. That's when horrifying reality starts to seep in."
Everyone paused. Bo-Katan blinked. Satine frowned faintly. Obi-Wan looked sideways in confusion. None of them understood what that meant.
Then, with a soft mechanical whir, Jin-Woo raised his hand—and pull his weapon.
The Vectivus lightsaber floated into the air, spinning once before dropping into his palm. He ignited it with a harsh snap-hiss. A deep hum rumbled through the room as the black blade came to life, shadowy energy rippling across its edge.
Obi-Wan stepped forward slightly, eyes wide. "You have a lightsaber?"
Without a word, Jin-Woo tilted the hilt forward and slid open a panel—revealing the rarest component of all.
The black kyber crystal pulsed inside,, exuding a pressure that felt ancient.
Bo-Katan's jaw clenched as the tension in the room thickened like smoke. Her hands curled into fists, the muscles in her neck twitching as she glared at the black crystal in Jin-Woo's grasp—an artifact that now carried the weight of their entire legacy.
"This," Jin-Woo said, lifting the crystal for all to see, "is a black kyber crystal. Very fucking rare in your galaxy. Maybe the last one of its kind."
His gaze shifted across the table—Satine, Bo-Katan, Obi-Wan, Jango, and Jaster—burning into each of them with silent pressure.
"Thirty percent of Mandalore's beskar," he said flatly. "Or I crush this crystal in my palm… and your precious Darksaber will remain forever stuck—tainted—by that bled kyber I gave you. No future Mandalorian leader will ever wield it properly. Not without this."
Satine hesitated, her voice quiet but uncertain. "I… I don't know what the situation is with the Darksaber."
Bo-Katan snarled. "You bastard. You planned this." Her voice trembled with fury. "You knew from the start. You destroy the original crystal, give us a bled one—and now you dangle the other black crystal in front of us like a leash!"
Jin-Woo stayed calm, voice cool and level. "Satine already signed the deal. She suffered the most. She knows what's at stake. She was ready to give me twenty percent of the beskar."
He leaned forward slightly, tilting his head toward Bo-Katan.
"But you? You've been stomping around with that old mantra—'beskar is only for the people of Mandalore.' You want to lock it behind tradition. And now?"