Jin-Woo clenched the crystal slightly, just enough for everyone to feel the tension.
"I don't like waiting. Thirty percent. That's the new deal. Or you and your Death Watch are stuck with a Sith-colored Darksaber, and your future leaders will be mocked by every warrior who remembers what it used to mean."
Bo-Katan gritted her teeth, fingers twitching near her belt. "Seventeen percent," she countered. "And you give us the black kyber crystal. Now."
Jin-Woo laughed softly. "Shitttt… you really want to break tradition that badly?" He leaned forward just slightly. "The only thing I'll give you… is a chance. A challenge. The right to claim the black kyber crystal—twenty years from now."
He pointed the crystal at her. "Or you want to be remembered as the warrior who let the Darksaber rot… stained in red. A failed legacy."
Bo-Katan's face twitched, pride at war with logic. The silence held for several tense seconds, then—
"…Twenty percent," she muttered through clenched teeth. "Fine. I agree."
Jin-Woo didn't move for a beat. Then, slowly, he pressed his fingers tighter around the black kyber crystal. A faint glow pulsed through it—dark, sharp, and terrifying.
"Thirty percent," Jin-Woo said coldly. "I'm a businessman. You tried to play me, and now I squeeze you out. Don't fuck with a businessman."
Bo-Katan's mouth parted, a protest rising—but she stopped herself. The air around Jin-Woo was too thick, too still. Like standing next to a sealed coffin that could pop open any second.
Across the table,
Jaster leaned toward Jango and whispered, "If you ever want to make a deal with the Armored Man… read the contract very carefully."
Jango's reply was dry, but truthful. "I read it ten times when it came to him."
Satine, who had stayed largely composed until now, finally spoke, her voice more wounded than angry. "I never thought… the Armored Man would be this cruel. I thought you were a hero."
Jin-Woo finally turned his helmet toward her, slow and deliberate.
"I came from a world," he said softly, "where it's kill or be killed. Right now, I'm being kind. I'm being negotiable. Ask your Death Watch. The ones watching me so seriously. They probably didn't tell you everything I did at Korda Six." He turned his head slightly toward Bo-Katan. "Which, frankly, is for the best."
The room fell into a deeper silence. Every breath felt like it had to fight its way through the weight pressing in.
Jango stared at Jin-Woo for a long moment, beads of cold sweat forming on his neck.
Ashborn… he thought. He really is a horrifying monster. Behind the armor of the Armored Man… resides the Lord of the Dead.
Satine broke the silence with a heavy sigh, placing a hand over her chest. "It's my fault," she said, shoulders sagging. "My mistake. Thirty percent it is. I'm the one who listened to Bo-Katan—trying to improve our relationship."
Obi-Wan turned sharply. "Satine, isn't that a bit much? The Republic can help compensate—"
But Satine shook her head, voice firm but burdened. "The Republic doesn't want our people to stabilize on their own. They're comfortable when we're fractured and dependent. My problems… are still heavier than you know."
Just then, Jin-Woo raised a hand. From the crown of his helmet, a small projection node extended—and suddenly, a full-scale holographic display formed in the air above the table, flickering into crisp focus.
The image: a lavish Republic office.
And seated behind the desk… was Ranulph Tarkin.
The moment Tarkin noticed the transmission, he narrowed his eyes, scanning the holo-source.
"Where's this signal coming fro—" He stopped.
His eyes widened. "…Armored Man," he breathed. "You're alive! Thank the stars, I was just about to finalize your commendation. There's a ceremony planned—public, full honors—you'll be promoted as my personal ad—"
"I'm calling in one of my favors," Jin-Woo cut in flatly,
his voice sharp and unamused. "Can you do it?"
Tarkin sat back, straightening his uniform with a practiced tug, all business now. "I'm listening."
Jin-Woo didn't budge, his tone as iron-clad as his exoframe.
"You see the woman behind me?" he said, tilting his head slightly toward Satine Kryze. "Make sure she is the legitimate ruler of Mandalore. Forty years. I don't want any shit, no power plays, no interference, no bureaucratic backdoors trying to dethrone her. Mandalore stays under her rule, uninterrupted."
Satine blinked, stunned. "F-Forty years? That sounds like… a monarchy."
Obi-Wan folded his arms with a sigh. "Of course. You rescued Ranulph Tarkin just for this moment, didn't you?"
Bo-Katan clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing in bitter realization.
This bastard… he planned this. Three steps ahead. He knew our every move before we made it.
Tarkin, still on the screen, gave a single nod of approval. "I have… considerable leverage with Chancellor Valorum and key Senate committees. Five minutes."
Then he added, almost smugly, "Also, Armored Man—I do hope you'll indulge me in a deeper conversation soon. About military coordination, perhaps."
"I'll be waiting," Jin-Woo replied calmly.
The hologram blinked off.
Jin-Woo leaned back a little and stretched his fingers. "Now… does anyone have a holonews feed? I wanna hear it when the galaxy catches up to me."
Jaster gave a short grunt. "Here. Found it."
He reached over and flicked on a portable holo-projector. The blue holographic newsfeed shimmered to life, and a calm but alert reporter's voice filled the chamber.
"This is Republic News Net, breaking coverage: Satine Kryze has officially been ratified as Mandalore's sovereign leader for the next forty standard years. The motion—surprisingly—was fast-tracked by Senator Ranulph Tarkin with full backing from the Chancellor's Office. No opposition recorded."
Jin-Woo leaned back with a casual sigh, his armored fingers tapping the armrest in rhythm. The holofeed flickered in the background, replaying Satine's official appointment like a victory anthem.
"…And that's checkmate," he murmured with satisfaction.
Satine blinked, then looked up at the ceiling half in disbelief. "And now I'm ruler of Mandalore for forty years… What star did I pray to last night?"
Obi-Wan folded his arms, raising a brow. "This isn't the Jedi way, Armored Man."
Bo-Katan scoffed beside him. "And it sure as hell isn't the Mandalorian way."
Jin-Woo tilted his head lazily. "Oh my god… now I understand why Order 66 was so damn efficient."
Everyone in the room turned toward him in synchronized confusion.
"…Order what?" Obi-Wan asked, puzzled.
Satine frowned slightly. "Is that some kind of military command?"
Bo-Katan narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat, you smug bastard?"
Jin-Woo gave a silent shrug beneath his armor. "Nah. Just a thought. Now can we finalize the deal so I can get out of here? Bo-Katan looks like she's five seconds away from trying to kill me."
Bo-Katan crossed her arms and sneered. "Oh, I will kill you one day. I'll strip that cursed armor off your corpse, take the Darksaber, and pull the black kyber crystal from your cold, dead hand. It won't be Pre Vizsla who holds it—I will."
Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly, amused. "Shame, really. Because Pre Vizsla's the one currently holding the Darksaber hilt. If you want it that bad… guess you'll have to kill each other first."
Bo-Katan's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
Satine exhaled slowly, brushing past the tension in the room. "Jaster," she said calmly, "can you give me the deal papers?"
Jaster nodded once. "As you wish, Duchess."
He retrieved the datapad and stylus, handing them to Satine. She scrolled through, paused, then modified the agreed amount—adjusting the beskar allotment from 20% to 30%. Without hesitation, she signed her name and turned the device around.
"Armored Man," she said, steady voice cutting the air, "your turn."
Jin-Woo stood, stepping forward silently. He took the stylus in one hand, flipped it, and signed with the unmistakable curved glyphs of the Forerunner language—symbols ancient and unreadable to most of the galaxy.
As he finished the last stroke, the datapad pinged in confirmation."Done," he said. "Finished."
As the datapad pinged and the deal was sealed, Jin-Woo slid the black kyber crystal back into the hilt of his Vectivus lightsaber. A low hum pulsed once, then vanished as he stored the weapon back into his inventory.
Bo-Katan crossed her arms and scoffed. "Most of Death Watch and Mandalore won't help you as you mine the beskar, Armored Man. You'll be all alo—"
The door hissed open. Jin-Woo was already gone.
Satine muttered under her breath, "At least wait for someone to finish a sentence, Mister Speechless."
But before anyone could process the moment, a voice echoed down the corridor. Loud, clear, furious.
"This is Pre Vizsla! And I stand before the Armored Man himself!"
Satine froze.
Obi-Wan's brows furrowed.
Bo-Katan's eyes went wide.
Jaster and Jango exchanged looks.
They all had the same thought—Oh no.
Together, they rushed into the corridor.
What they saw made even Bo-Katan's breath catch.
Pre Vizsla stood armor polished and gleaming, his face shadowed but determined. And behind him—hundreds of Death Watch soldiers, fully armored, lined in formation like a private army. The Darksaber hilt was gripped in his hand, black blade unignited but resting against his armored leg.
Jin-Woo said nothing. Just stood there. A shadow encased in iron, unmoved.
Pre Vizsla stepped forward, voice steady. "Armored Man… you killed my father. But I heard how you did it—with honor. And for that, I offer respect."
The Darksaber hissed to life in his hand. The blade ignited not in its traditional white-edged black—but blood red. Tainted. The bled kyber crystal still pulsed within, a Taint that had never healed.
"I'll honor his request," Pre vizsla continued. "And as you command, we'll support Duchess Satine Kryze for the next twenty years. After that…" He raised the blade slightly, eyes narrowing. "I'll fight. I'll take the black kyber—"
Jin-Woo casually reached out and tapped his shoulder, cutting him off mid-declaration.
"Yeah, yeah. Good speech," he said dismissively, voice flat.
Then he turned slightly and looked at the hundred Death Watch soldiers. "Stand aside. Move."
Without hesitation, every armored warrior shifted, stepping to either side in unison, creating a perfect path.
"Yes, new leader," they said in unison.
Jin-Woo walked through them like a ghost through a battlefield, heading toward the exit, footsteps echoing without urgency.
Pre Vizsla gritted his teeth, gripping the Darksaber tighter. "At least LISTEN TO YOUR OPPONENT, DAMN TIN CAN!"
No reply. Just the sound of Jin-Woo's steps growing fainter.
Satine blinked, arms crossed, expression half-incredulous. "Is he always that rude?"
Jango Fett sighed, glancing sideways. "Mercenaries are typically like that, my Duchess." He paused, then added under his breath, "But that one's in a league of his own."
As Jin-Woo stepped outside, the crisp Mandalorian air brushing against his armor, his system window flickered to life—translucent and glowing faintly in his vision.
.......................
[Notification: Event Quest Complete]
Quest: Mandalorian Civil War (Complete)
Description: Ensure Satine Kryze becomes the undisputed ruler of Mandalore while the Death Watch is severely weakened—but still has a chance to regroup. Gain legitimacy in both Mandalore and the Republic. Secure 20% of Mandalore's beskar supply. Change the fate of Jango Fett and Jaster Mereel.
Rewards:
• Holocron of Nomi Sunrider
• 1x Companion Voucher
• British Lostbelt Teleportation Voucher (Fate/Grand Order: English Lostbelt)
Penalty for Failure: Loss of Second Anchor (nulled)
Note: Do not eliminate the Death Watch entirely—ensure they are severely weakened, but still survive to regroup.
..................
[Hidden Event Quest: Complete]
Description: You demonstrated that the Armored Man is a businessman—calculating and ruthless. From 20% to 30%, you reminded everyone that playing you comes at a cost.
Reward:
• 700,000 EXP
• Holocron of Cade Skywalker (Force Healing)
• Custom Color Kyber Crystal (Choose any one color, permanently)
..................
Jin-Woo gave a slow, satisfied grin beneath the mask. Two black kyber crystals, huh... I just might be able to make that happen.
Footsteps echoed softly behind him.
Master Yoda emerged from the shadows near the palace wall, his tiny silhouette dwarfed by the towering structure of Sundari's dome.
The ancient Jedi looked up, cane tapping gently as he joined Jin-Woo's side.
"Enjoying the dome, I think," Yoda said, calm and curious.
Jin-Woo didn't look at him, still gazing outward over the horizon of the city. "Yeah," he said after a pause. "The dome's a symbol. Not just protection, but survival. What remains of Mandalore... and what's still worth fighting for."