(3000 words )
Four months before the deadline.
Jin-Woo sat alone at a small restaurant near the royal palace of Theed, his posture relaxed, one hand casually wrapped around a cup as the city's gentle hum carried on around him. From here, he could sense the pulsing activity underground — Sentinel drones deployed by Adjutant Resolution, tirelessly carving, reinforcing, and shaping the vast bunker beneath Theed Royal Palace.
Even with all their advanced systems, they still needed his presence. His energy, his sheer existence, acted like an amplifier to the operation — without him nearby, the process would crawl at a slower pace.
Suddenly, a calm voice echoed through his mind. Offensive Bias.
"Supreme Executor, current bunker progress: 20 %."
Jin-Woo gave no outward reaction, his face still, his eyes half-lidded. But inwardly, he nodded in quiet satisfaction as his fingers lazily traced scribbles across the table. Thirty days without sleep, and yet he wasn't tired — not even close. The most powerful being in the galaxy, a Monarch ruling over shadow, death, and conquest… but even so, boredom gnawed at him like a slow itch. Progress was steady. The groundwork was holding. The bunker beneath Theed was crawling forward under the tireless work of his drones and constructs.
Suddenly, footsteps of an entourage echoed nearby. Jin-Woo didn't need to look up — he already knew who approached.
Queen Amidala, flanked by Captain Panaka and the handmaidens, strode up with formal grace. At the front was Sabé, Padmé's trusted decoy, dressed in the heavy, ornate robes of the Queen. Her painted face held the same controlled poise as the real Padmé.
Sabé stepped forward, voice calm and practiced. "Jin-Woo," she announced formally, "you are the head leader of the Purple England merchant group. Governor Sio Bibble has spoken highly of your influence. I would like to see your weapon merchandise… if you have time."
Jin-Woo didn't even lift his head. He flicked his pen in a lazy arc, voice cool. "I'm waiting until Padmé arrives."
Sabé — still fully in character as Queen Amidala — tilted her head slightly, her tone unwavering. "I am Queen Amidala, ruler of Naboo."
Jin-Woo finally let a small smirk . He leaned back slightly in his chair .
"Padmé's not here," he said bluntly. "She's busy reviewing things with my floating monitor right now."
"Also," Jin-Woo added casually, "you can drop the act."
The words hung in the air like a quiet hammer blow — the kind that made even Captain Panaka flinch slightly, his hand twitching near his holstered weapon before catching himself. Sabé's carefully crafted mask faltered just a fraction, her eyes flicking with the briefest crack of surprise.
Jin-Woo just kept smiling faintly, fingers drumming lightly on the tabletop. "Tell the real queen I'll show her the merchandise when she's finished her work. I don't waste time putting on shows."
Captain Panaka leaned slightly toward Sabé, his voice dropping into a whisper. "Told you," he murmured under his breath. "He's sharp — far sharper than any merchant I've ever met."
Sabé, still wearing the face of Queen Amidala, shifted subtly. But her eyes, usually calm and distant, now narrowed with a protective edge — the bodyguard beneath the disguise starting to show through. She stepped forward carefully, her tone more guarded.
"Tell me, Jin-Woo," Sabé said softly, "why does my trusted friend Padmé place so much faith in you?"
Her gaze sharpened, a hint of real worry flickering behind the painted façade. "To the point that right now, she rarely leaves the castle. She looks exhausted every day. And you…" Sabé's eyes swept over him, studying him from head to toe, "…you're always here. Always nearby. Twenty-four hours, no rest, no sleep — always near the royal palace."
She crossed her arms lightly, her voice edged with quiet suspicion. "What exactly is going on?"
Without a word, Jin-Woo reached into the folds of his coat and flicked something with two fingers — a small, matte-black card sailing smoothly through the air. Sabé caught it on instinct, her eyes flicking down to study it. Stamped faintly on its surface was a mark she didn't recognize: the emblem of Adjutant Resolution.
Jin-Woo leaned back lazily, voice smooth. "Raise your hand when you're inside Theed Royal Palace. You'll know. And only you will understand."
Panaka straightened sharply beside her, eyes narrowing. "Where's mine?" he asked, tone firm.
Jin-Woo turned his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "For you, Panaka? Not yet." His voice stayed casual, almost lazy. "You're a good man — I know that. Loyal. But your instincts…"
Jin-Woo's eyes flicked up, sharp and cold. "…duller than an animal's."
Panaka stiffened, jaw tightening. "I'm Captain of the Guard. Probably the best marksman on Naboo."
Jin-Woo Eyes narrowed . "You want to play a cowboy game with me, Panaka?" His voice dropped just a little, a razor edge beneath the amusement. "I can holster a revolver lower than your blaster — and you'll still lose. No matter how fast you are."
Sabé didn't bother arguing further. She tucked the black card carefully into her robes, her eyes flicking over Jin-Woo one last time. "You better be right, Jin-Woo," she said quietly. Then, without waiting for further banter, she turned sharply on her heel, heading briskly toward the Theed Royal Palace.
Now at the palace's interior entrance, Sabé took a slow breath and raised the black card high, her eyes flicking warily around.
A faint pulse of light shimmered across the ceiling — a stealth Sentinel drone, previously invisible, scanned the card silently.
Without warning, the ground beneath Sabé shifted. She gasped softly as a hidden platform gripped her boots — and with a smooth mechanical hum, the hidden elevator dropped, pulling her swiftly underground.
As the walls blurred past her, Sabé whispered under her breath, "…What in the stars is my queen building down here?"
The elevator slowed, then halted smoothly.
Sabé stepped out, her eyes going wide.
Level A – Command Nexus. The chamber walls weren't durasteel, and stone. They gleamed with rare black-gray beskar plating, traced with sleek, alien Forerunner architecture. Strange glyphs shimmered faintly at the edges. The air thrummed with quiet, layered energy. And then — voices.
Sabé stepped cautiously forward, her boots tapping against the polished floor, until the sound became clear.
Padmé, standing beside the floating blue-lit form of Adjutant Resolution, her expression tight with frustration.
"Droid, we are a peaceful planet," Padmé was saying firmly, her arms crossed. "There's no need for a Level G — Industrial & Fabrication. This is a bunker, not a war complex. And I think that's what's making the construction take so long."
Adjutant Resolution hovered calmly, its pulsing light unwavering. "As I have already clarified, I am not a droid. I am the Monitor for Installation 07."
Padmé let out a small huff, clearly unimpressed. "Still a droid. Now let me—" She broke off suddenly, her eyes widening slightly as she noticed Sabé approaching.
Sabé stopped just a few steps away, lowering her hands slowly.
"My queen…" she said softly, voice tinged with quiet concern, "can I know what's going on here?"
Padmé exhaled slowly, her shoulders tense. "Sabé… what's in here stays in your mind. If not… we're all alone when the four months are up before the deadline."
Sabé's face tightened with understanding. She gave a silent nod, swallowing whatever questions had started to rise.
Adjutant Resolution pulsed faintly, its blue core humming. "Acknowledged. Supreme Executor has designated another personnel who is aware of the bunker. I now designate Sabé as top-secret second personnel beside Padmé Amidala."
Padmé didn't even glance at the monitor. Her arms crossed tightly, her voice firm. "We're about to be attacked in four months, Sabé… by an unknown force. My idea is to make sure our people are safe here, underground, and then show the evidence to Chancellor Valorum so the Republic will help us."
She sighed, her tone turning sharper. "But there's no need for an all-out war — no matter what this droid says."
Sabé drew in a slow breath, her brow furrowing. "This is because of Jin-Woo, isn't it?" she said quietly. "He's the one feeding you this nonsense, my queen. I'm sorry… but you're still young. You don't know how crafty merchants can be."
Without a word, Adjutant Resolution pulsed once — and with a smooth mechanical hiss, a hidden chamber nearby opened. Inside, standing upright like an armored mannequin, was the full Proto-Didact Exoframe, the legendary battle armor known across the galaxy. Around it hovered multiple Sentinel drones, softly humming as they glowed faintly in the dim chamber light.
Padmé turned calmly toward Sabé, her voice cool and composed. "I don't need to explain who Jin-Woo is under his alias, do I? Everyone in the galaxy knows it."
Sabé's face paled slightly, her throat tightening as the realization slammed into her. "The a-a— The Armored Man…"
A beat passed — then Sabé slapped a hand over her forehead with a groan. "… Ouhhh , I should have asked him for a sign…"
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to compose. Straightening, Sabé looked at Padmé with steady eyes. "My queen… what can I do to help?"
Padmé gave a small, tired sigh. "How about convincing this floating droid here not to push for an all-out war?"
Sabé, emboldened by her usual protective instincts . Without thinking twice, she pulled her blaster, raising it toward Adjutant Resolution.
"Can you obey my queen, please?" she said sharply.
Padmé deadpanned instantly, her hand rising halfway in exasperation. "Sabé… forget what I asked. Please stand down."
Adjutant Resolution's blue eye pulsed once, voice flat and mechanical. "Your blaster would not be able to pierce my outer layer. Is this… a mock demonstration?"
Without hesitating, Sabé pulled the trigger — the blaster bolt shot out, — and froze mid-flight, hovering just before the monitor like it had slammed into an invisible wall.
Adjutant Resolution pulsed again, voice calm and almost condescending. "Had enough?"
Suddenly, the air around them rippled. A slipspace seam cracked open — and Jin-Woo stepped out smoothly .
"You all are so loud," Jin-Woo said dryly, voice low, "I want to take control myself now."
Sabé immediately turned toward him, voice sharp, "Jin-Woo — you didn't do anything to Captain Panaka and the others, did you?"
Without a word, Jin-Woo flicked two fingers, and a holoscreen shimmered to life beside him — showing Panaka and most of the Royal Guards slumped unconscious on the ground outside, weapons scattered, faces frozen in stunned shock.
Padmé let out a tired sigh, one hand pressing lightly to her forehead. "Jin-Woo… was that really necessary?"
Jin-Woo shrugged lazily, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "They wanted to know my skills, so I boasted. That's it. They're too slow for me… even when I'm just playing cowboy deadshot games."
Suddenly, a small holo-page and stylus materialized shakily in Sabé's hands.
Sabé trembled slightly, cheeks flushed, voice uneven as she looked up at him. "C-c-could you… sign for me, Armored Man?"
Jin-Woo's gaze slid coldly toward one of the nearby chambers, where the imposing Proto-Didact Exoframe stood, gleaming in the low light like a silent metal sentinel. His expression didn't soften in the slightest — if anything, his patience visibly thinned.
Without a word, Jin-Woo reached forward, his finger casually slicing through the holo-page with a precise, sharp cut — four clean slashes across the digital surface. The stylus clattered to the floor at Sabé's feet.
"Get lost," Jin-Woo muttered flatly, his tone bored and dismissive.
Sabé blinked, heart pounding — then looked down at the flickering holo-page. Her eyes widened slightly as she read the rough, jagged message left across it: Get lost.
A small, sheepish smile crept onto her face despite herself. "H-his signature says Get lost… thank you, Armored Man…" she mumbled softly, clutching the marked holo-page like it was some rare treasure.
Padmé, standing nearby, let her thoughts drift quietly for a moment. When Jin-Woo wrote for me: 'To Queen Amidala — Stay strong. –The Armored Man'… was that pity? Does he see me as some helpless creature? A faint frown touched her lips, her mind flickering between irritation and self-doubt.
Shaking herself out of it, Padmé straightened slightly and spoke firmly. "Jin-Woo, the Level G — the Industrial & Fabrication level — I think it's a waste of space. We could use it to create more living quarters, make sure people don't get cramped."
Jin-Woo, seated lazily with one leg draped over the other, gave her a slow, measured look. "And if the evidence doesn't get through? If there's a jamming signal spanning light-years, blocking any transmission? What will you do then?"
Padmé opened her mouth, then quickly replied, "Then we'll use a ship to carry the message ourselves."
Jin-Woo let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "And if there's a giant ship — no, five giant ships — forming a blockade? What then? We still need to break through, you know."
Padmé fell silent, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. She clenched her jaw, the weight of the reality settling in, her mind racing but unable to form a clear answer.
Sabé, trying to break the heavy tension, stepped forward slightly, forcing a small, nervous smile. "Sir Armored Man… I think you're being a bit har—"
In an instant, Jin-Woo's head turned, his sharp gaze locking onto her. His purple pupils flared with an , cold glow, .
"The Armored Man is gone," Jin-Woo said quietly, his voice like iron wrapped in ice. "The last thing I need is to become a celebrity. So call me by Jin-Woo. Got it?"
Sabé's eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. She quickly nodded in silence.
Padmé's voice cracked, a small tear slipping down her cheek. "Why does… when I want to help, everything suddenly starts falling apart? I mean… I know I'm young — I'm just a fourteen-year-old queen… I know that. But why does fate feel like it's against me? And the Force… is it against me too? Why am I so blind to every threat, to—"
Before she could spiral further, Jin-Woo moved — smooth, calm, effortless.
Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms gently around her, pulling her close. Padmé stiffened at first, eyes wide in surprise, but then her body trembled slightly as she leaned into him, the weight of everything she'd been carrying pouring out. Her tears soaked faintly into his clothes, her breath shaky against his chest.
"It's not your fault," Jin-Woo murmured quietly, his voice steady, almost like a lullaby wrapped in steel. "You want to help. You want to be the best for your people. But the Republic's problems… they're going to blow up because of its own corruption, not because of you."
He rested his chin lightly on her head, his arms firm but not crushing. "It's not your fault… it's just that war… war never changes."
Padmé clung a little tighter, her shoulders shaking, tears slipping freely now — not because she was weak, but because for the first time, she realized how heavy her burden had truly become. And beside her, Jin-Woo simply stayed, letting the moment pass, letting her breathe, step by quiet step.
Sabé gave a small, approving nod, watching quietly as Padmé trembled in Jin-Woo's arms, her tears finally finding release. A satisfied smile tugged at Sabé's lips. She turned slightly toward the floating construct nearby.
"Your name is Monitor, right?" Sabé said . "Thank you… for supporting my queen. She's carrying a very big burden."
Adjutant Resolution's blue eye pulsed once, the voice flat and mechanical. "Finally… someone calls me a Monitor. And no, I do not like your queen. She calls my name wrong. I am simply executing the tasks Supreme Executor assigned."
Sabé blinked, a little thrown. "Wait… you mean Jin-Woo? Why call him Supreme Executor?"
Adjutant Resolution hovered slightly higher, its tone cool . "Oh, I was not the one who designated that title. It was assigned by a greater war-class AI — one far superior to Mendicant Bias. But… I cannot disclose its name to you."
Padmé, still nestled lightly in Jin-Woo's arms, wiped at her damp cheeks and looked up at him with a small, hesitant voice. "Can you… teach me how you think, Jin-Woo? How you approach all this?"
Jin-Woo gave a faint smirk, his gaze calm but edged with blunt honesty. "How about this — start by thinking with common sense. No more daydreaming about perfect peace or heroism saving the day. That's more than enough."
Padmé nodded quietly, almost like a scolded but determined child, her eyes wide and earnest. "…Alright, Jin-Woo. I understand."
Suddenly, Offensive Bias's cold, measured voice echoed in Jin-Woo's mind:
"Supreme Executor, the Gungan people's home — their underwater city — can be used as a tunnel connection. It links naturally to the surface and could be expanded toward Level D of the bunker, providing a secondary access point in case of overcrowding."
Jin-Woo's lips twitched faintly at the corner, but he didn't reveal the report just yet. Instead, he turned slightly, eyes glancing toward Padmé with mild amusement.
"So, Padmé… you want me to show you how to speak with people? How to at least make peace possible?"
Padmé's face lit up with eager hope, her eyes shining. "You can? Please… teach me!"
Jin-Woo only smiled in silence, that smile saying everything without a single word